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awooghan · 2 years

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24 to 25 ✧.* y.ji (part one)

❄ PAIRING: jeongin x fem!reader

❄ GENRE: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, christmas

❄ WARNINGS: mild language, mentions of food, long as hell, i put the ‘slow’ in slowburn (in my defense this trope does not work without it), i’ve checked like 1922847473 times for inconsistencies but if there are any pls be nice it’s my first long fic ;w;

❄ WORD COUNT: 47.7k (part one: 25.9k; part two: 21.8k) i'm so sorry

❄ SUMMARY: “stay for christmas?” was a phrase jeongin first uttered to you when you were both ten years old, but you had no idea how much those three little words would mean to you as the years go by. (inspired by “24 to 25” by stray kids)

❄ NOTES: IT’S FINALLY UP!! i’m so sorry for the wait, i really really wanted to get this right and it took me wayyy longer than i thought it would. but i love how it turned out and i'm so proud of it. i hope y’all enjoy :’)

i’ll include more to the note when i'm not in such a rush to get this posted but tysm to everyone who helped me in writing it! @crispy-chan jas thank you for beta reading (i’m so sorry it was so long) your comments were really sweet and really reassured me that i was doing okay <3 thank u @pearleechai and @gloseoks for helping me out with that one part i got stuck on for like a week lmaooo. to parker specifically, ty for all ur help and encouragement in the couple chapters i asked for help on :D i’m sorry it meant u had some of the fic spoiled for u tho ;w; lastly, @svtbabies hopie u have been my lifesaver from start to finish w this fic. thank u so so much for planning w me and for the multiple times u saved me from a huge writer’s block. i wouldn’t have been able to complete this without you, so ty for everything <33 also ty for the banner lol

➳ IMPORTANT!!! this fic is so long that i have to split it into two parts. i'd use the legacy editor but i can't toggle btwn the two anymore 😭 i did not intend for it to be this lengthy but anything for childhood friends to lovers i guess

[part one] | part two

network tags: @straykidsland

9 years old. (prologue)

“Come on, Y/N, you can’t cling onto my shirt forever,” your mother urges you with a small chuckle.

You stiffen up in your spot at the edge of the picnic bench, and your eyes bounce between the several children on and around the playground equipment. Mixtures of squeals and cheerful laughter ring above the Christmas song playing from the outdoor speaker your new neighbors, the Choi family, set up. You forgot if it was the one with the son older than you or the son your age, though—you didn’t exactly bother to learn their names when your mother introduced you.

“Go on, Y/N.” Her voice fills your ears again as she gently pushes you off the bench. Speak of the devil.

Shoving your hands in your pockets, you kick the dust with your feet and you keep your gaze cast down on the ground. You didn’t want to socialize—why would you want to make new friends when you had perfectly good ones back in your old neighborhood? Why couldn’t you just go back there? Or just snatch your mother’s dingy old flip phone for a couple minutes to send them a message?

Besides, most of the children here don’t seem like ones you’d be particularly… compatible with. You shouldn’t be one to judge, but the majority of the ones doing laps on the playground equipment couldn’t have been older than five or six. At your big age of nine years old, there’s not much you would have in common with a literal kindergartener. Plus, it seems like they had all formed a friend group of their own, and you’re more than content just watching them chase each other around, gleeful, high-pitched squeals bubbling from their sticky mouths.

Turning your head slightly, you find a group of teenagers sitting around another bench several feet away from all the adults, two of which had their bottoms perched on top of the table as they faced their friends. You would approach them, but just like how you wouldn’t exactly favor befriending the five-year-olds with crayons up their noses, the teenagers likely thought the same of you. Closing your eyes in despair, you groan to yourself and resort to dragging your feet across the dirt.

Why did you even have to move?

As you let out a sigh, you perk up at the fact you could see it in the cold air. It sparks an insurmountable amount of joy for some reason. Perhaps it’s because of the timing of the puff of air with the line, ’Jack Frost nipping at your nose’ that rings from the speakers at the other end of the small neighborhood park, but it causes a giggle to slip past your lips. It’s almost like a new light under the already-dimming sky, the soft pinks and oranges slowly dissipating as the sun begins to dip behind the mountains and give way to the overcast above.

However, you quickly get distracted by the sight of a boy your age—or at least, you assumed—and you hesitantly step closer.

And there he was.

He was short, upside down on the monkey bars, and wearing the most obnoxious shade of purple you had ever laid eyes on. You aren’t sure what hurts more: the sun in your eyes or staring at his sweater.

Looking away from the light gray clouds that hung above the park, you let your gaze fall to the boy. He watches you quietly as he continues to hang upside down, and you notice the small smile that paints his slowly reddening face.

Here goes nothing, you guess.

“Um… hi.”

He stays silent, staring at you with his beady eyes.

Gulping, you continue. “I’m Y/N.”

He mumbles something back, but you can barely make out what he says and you tilt your head slightly in confusion.

“Huh?”

“My name is Jeongin,” he repeats, only the slightest bit louder.

A smile of your own quickly forms on your face. You raise a hand up for him to shake, and he just stares at it for a second before moving one of his outstretched arms to meet you, his hand grasping yours at an awkward angle. You both can’t help but giggle as you give your best attempt at a handshake.

“Nice to meet you, Jeongin,” you say, slowly pulling your hand away and letting his drop above, or rather, below his upside-down head. “I’m Y/N.”

“You said that already,” he says, and his bluntness makes you chuckle.

Slowly, Jeongin maneuvers himself so he’s sitting on top of the monkey bars instead of hanging upside down. Once he gets upright and steadies himself from the blood rushing down from his head, he stares back down at you.

You stuff your hands into your pockets and heave out a sigh. “My mom says I need a friend,” you explain your current plight to Jeongin, and you find his soft gaze once again. It’s strange, really—you’ve only exchanged a few words with this boy, but you already feel comfortable enough to complain about your mother’s nagging to him.

You suppose that helps your next words spill out more easily.

“Want to be friends?”

You watch Jeongin expectantly as he looks down, picking at a piece of lint on his hideous purple sweater. He ponders your question for a minute, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you when he finally nods in response. If your mom wanted you to have a friend so badly, there you go. You got one.

You stand there awkwardly, your eyes drifting back up to the sky for a moment. It occurs to you that you’ve never asked someone to be friends with you; it’s always just kind of happened.

And now you’re stuck, unsure what to do next.

You let out another huff of air, another smile tickling your lips as you watch the faint, white puff form in front of your eyes. Then you look back up at the boy in the obnoxious purple sweater, who seems just as amused by the cold air as you as he lets out his own breath, exhaling like a small dragon.

A chuckle escapes your parted lips as you watch him, kicking his legs lightly as he stares up at the sky. After another minute, you speak again.

“Can I sit up there with you too?”

Nodding his head, he mumbles a small “yeah” and the corners of your mouth twitch up as you hurriedly climb your way up onto the monkey bars. You dangle your legs through the same section as Jeongin’s, and you shift your position slightly as you steady yourself.

A gust of cold air causes you to shiver and as a response, you pull your puffy coat closer to you. This seems to make Jeongin chuckle fondly, and you feel his eyes linger on you for a second before he looks out at the horizon. Neither of you are tall enough to see much above the houses in front of you, but you figure you can use your imaginations to picture what lies beyond that. It’ll have to do.

You both remain silent for a while like this, allowing the chatter and Christmas music below to fill the air around you. It’s comfortable, it feels like a weighted blanket wrapped around your shoulders—which is funny to say because you’re sharing this moment with a kid you’ve barely known for ten minutes. You don’t mind, though. By the looks of it, and the friendly glances you exchange with each other, Jeongin doesn’t seem to, either.

Suddenly, a cold, wet spot falls onto your nose, causing you to gasp and look up.

“Is that…”

Jeongin tilts his head up as well, and he chuckles when another wet drop lands on his face. Meanwhile, you’re in awe. You let your mouth fall open, and your eyes swirl with pure wonderment as you watch the white crystals above you flutter down. It sends chills down your spine, but wraps you up in a cocoon of warmth at the same time.

“Snow…” is all you manage to mumble.

Jeongin turns to you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Have you never seen snow before?”

You glance at him once, shake your head, and look back up at the sky.

The boy’s jaw drops. It almost mirrors your dazed expression, except his features are twisted in surprise. But it’s true—snow was something you had only witnessed in movies. As far as you were concerned, the fluffy, white particles only ever graced the stop-motion characters on the old-timey Christmas cartoons you rewatched every year, or the main couple in whatever cheesy Hallmark movie your parents decided to indulge in.

That is, until now.

You didn’t know at that moment what type of future you had in store, but you know one thing: the snow is beautiful. And as you follow Jeongin down the monkey bars and to your first snowball fight, you have an inkling that you’ll be sticking with him for a while.

Maybe this move won’t be so bad after all.

10 years old.

You let out a huff of air, letting your chin bore into the palm of your hand. Unfortunately, though, the air inside a school classroom doesn’t allow you to watch it come to life. Sure, you had a heater and the bulky coat your mother gave you to thank for warmth, but at what cost?

No matter how hard you try to focus on the math test that was laid out in front of you, you just can’t. Not when the outside seemed to beckon you like a siren, begging you to come out and indulge in the ever-approaching Christmas atmosphere.

It’s all tempting. So, so tempting. Everything else seemed to be falling into place—the air has started to get colder, Christmas music has been playing 24/7 in the stores since November, you’ve worn every ugly Christmas sweater you could get your hands on at least once in the last two weeks, and you’ve begged your mom for a cup of hot chocolate every chance you could get.

Now you just need it to snow, and you need it badly.

After you scribble a random answer for the question you’ve been stuck on for five minutes, you throw your pen onto the table and lean back in your hard, plastic chair in defeat. This was too much mental torture, espically when you could hear Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer faintly playing in another room.

You can’t take it anymore.

Hopelessly, you stare at Jeongin, who somehow sleeps peacefully next to you. You’re sure he’s been asleep since he sat down in his chair. His head lays on his arm, which is covered by his purple sleeve. You snicker at the sight and pray that one day he grows out of that abomination of a sweater.

Your eyes drift back to your stupid math test, silently praying again that the torture won’t last for much longer. You were just one step away from greasy pizza and store-bought sugar cookies until your stomach hurt while The Polar Express filled the dim room. Well, one step away is technically two more questions, but it still feels so far.

You begrudgingly answer one of the questions then slump back into your seat, burying your head in your arms. You’re so close to freedom, but you still feel held captive by the test, like it’s shackled your arms and legs to your desk while Rudolph down the hall taunts you, dangling the coveted Christmas cheer over your head.

You don’t even care if you get the questions right anymore. You just scribble down some scratch work that seems somewhat coherent and circle whatever answer is closest then shove your test in your teacher’s hands, eager to get that nasty piece of paper away from you. Then you’re left to wait… and wait… and wait.

It’s unfair. You weren’t meant to be doing a math test the last day before winter break. You weren’t built to be suffering silently at your desk because some people didn’t know how to do long division. (Well, neither do you, but that’s besides the point.)

But nevertheless, you wait… and wait… and wait.

And then, finally, the last student turns in their paper.

The second the teacher plops the pile of tests on her desk, you practically spring up from your seat. You revel in the sweet, sweet freedom, but although your classmates seem just as relieved, they also seem painfully slow. That might also just be all the candy from your teacher’s goody bag pumping through your veins, but it made no difference to you.

Acting as self-appointed leader, you hastily motion for other kids in your class to move the tables to either side of the room, forming a sort of tetris with the desks, while others line trays of food across them. The pizzas are laid out next to different bowls of chips and festive little chocolates in the shapes of snowflakes and snowmen. Small Christmas-themed cups sit at the end of the table with giant bottles of bright, sugary drinks for you to choose from. Like, the ones that are bigger than your face. That’s how you know it’s good.

Hushed whispers of excitement make their way around the classroom as everyone settles down, wrapping themselves in the blankets they had brought to school for today. You take a seat next to Jeongin on the carpet right as the teacher switches the projector on, placing your paper plate filled to the brim with junk food in between you two as you get comfortable.

“How many cookies did you grab?!” Jeongin gawks, marveling at the sight. Whether it’s from amazement or concern is unclear.

You smile smugly at him. The light from the projector as your teacher sets up The Polar Express illuminates his baffled stare. “Not enough.”

He blinks once. “We’re not gonna split it?”

You giggle and push the plate closer to Jeongin, but not without swiping a Santa-shaped cookie from the pile. “I never said we weren’t.”

Jeongin just laughs at you and shakes his head, but the fact that he takes not one, not two, but three cookies from the plate tells you he’s just as excited as you. He attempts to remain nonchalant, though, as he wordlessly pushes a plate stacked with pizza towards you.

Grinning at him, you pick up a slice, the grease glinting in the low light. “Thanks,” you mumble as you take a bite.

Rolling his eyes, he continues to laugh. “Don’t mention it.”

There’s something about being next to Jeongin as you watch The Polar Express together, fluffy throw blankets draped around your outstretched legs that catch the crumbs from the snacks you two share, that brings you a sense of comfort. Excitement courses through your body, but somehow, you also feel oddly at peace.

It even seems to transport you to another world, and you forget you had even painstakingly suffered through a math test leading up to this in the first place. Eventually, your mind stops paying attention to the movie—it’s okay, though, because you practically know the story front to back. Instead, you find yourself daydreaming about being awoken in the middle of the night like the boy in the movie, and finding yourself on the fantastical train with Jeongin. A small smile decorates your face as you ponder, imagining all the chaos you could get yourselves into as you made the magical journey to the North Pole together.

However, when the other kids start to gasp and point towards the window, you’re brought back to the real world. Looking over to where they were pointing, you’re greeted with a powdery blanket covering the grass outside, and a grin instantly spreads across your face in delight.

Finally. It’s snowing.

You aren’t the only one to jump up from out of your seat in hopes of rushing outside to experience the first snowfall of winter. And you aren’t the first one out of the classroom door either. The calls from your teacher fade into the background like white noise as you scramble out from under your blanket and make a dash for the door as quickly as you can.

“Y/N,” Jeongin calls right before you can run outside, and you turn on your heel.

He speed-walks, then speeds up to an awkward half-jog to where you stand as he digs his hands through his pockets, and you can’t help but chuckle. It takes him until right after he stops in front of you to fish whatever this thing was out. Was it an early Christmas gift? The dreaded cheese touch? You are about to find out.

A crumpled piece of paper falls out of Jeongin’s coat, grazing his hand as he yanks it out of his pocket. He picks it up and unfolds it carefully, squinting at the note.

Leaning over, you peek over his shoulder and furrow your brows as you try to decipher the writing scrawled on. “’Ask Y/N about Christmas’?” You turn your head to the boy. “What about it?”

Jeongin eyes widen for a second as he tries to remember the context of the note. “My parents wanted me to ask if you wanted to…”

You tilt your head. “Wanted to…?” You repeat.

“What was it that they said?” He mumbles to himself. He looks up, his eyebrows furrowed, and then something seems to click. “Was it… stay? Stay for Christmas?”

You blink, watching the boy with inquisitive eyes. “Stay for Christmas?” you question.

“Yeah, stay for Christmas.” He hums, and his voice grows more confident as he continues. “Yeah, that’s what they said to ask!” He’s now grinning, and his movements become more animated. “Yeah! Stay with us for Christmas Eve! You have to come, Y/N, it’s a Christmas sleepover! It’ll be fun!”

You light up like a, well, Christmas tree at the idea. You could already picture the absolute blast you’re going to have. Chasing each other around in your pajamas as Christmas music rings in your ears? Eating the cookies his mom laid out for Santa until you're sick? Finding the jolly man himself? And imagine playing in the snow in the morning after ripping your presents open!

“That sounds so fun!” You squeal, beaming from ear to ear. “I'll have to ask my parents, but I'm sure they'll let me go!”

“Y/N, Jeongin,” your teacher interrupts your enthusiasm, her arm propping the door open. “You can’t stay inside by yourselves, come on!”

“Coming!” you two call back in unison, and then you glance at each other. You catch a mischievous glint in Jeongin’s eyes before he bolts for the door, outstretching his arm in front of you before you can react and outrun him.

“Race ya!”

“Hey!”

…

“Mommmm! Daddddd!” you drawl out, a frown stretched across your face as you bounce on the balls of your feet. Your finger impatiently hovers over the doorbell, and if your parents took any longer to grab… whatever they brought for Jeongin’s parents, you would just mash the white button yourself. Or you’d teleport yourself inside; forget the doorbell entirely.

You follow their movements attentively, your fists balled around your backpack straps and teeth pressed against your tongue to keep yourself from complaining more. You had already gotten an earful in the car, not to mention some confused glances when you mentioned the long-anticipated sleepover you had stayed up until the ungodly hours of 10pm preparing your backpack for. If they thought that was late for a fourth-grader, imagine their horror if they knew of your and Jeongin’s plan to stay up all night and see Santa Claus!

Regardless, you couldn’t pinpoint why your parents raised their eyebrows and snickered at the idea of you sleeping over at Jeongin’s house. Maybe it was the fact that you had your hair messily thrown up into a ponytail and that your light-up Christmas sweatshirt was maybe a size too big—I mean, say what you want, but you’re perfectly dressed for the occasion.

You were sure that was the reason. And certainly not the fact you were practically jumping out of your skin—maybe acting a little bit too excited—to get inside to see your best friend.

Your parents just didn’t understand that this was a pivotal moment. Plus, you’re getting cold. One can only stand outside for so long.

After what felt like hours of waiting, the door finally swings open to reveal Jeongin’s mother, welcoming you and your parents inside. You release your backpack straps from your grip and sprint past your mother, shouting a “Hi, Mrs. Yang!” as you rip your shoes from your feet.

Shaking your backpack off your shoulders, you make a beeline for Jeongin, who puts down his video game controller when you come into view.

“I made it, Jeongin!” you grin from ear to ear, tossing your backpack aside.

“Yay!” he breaks out into a grin and scoots over.

You plop down at the spot next to him, grabbing the spare controller as you watch the mustached man on screen walk right into a brown mushroom and die. And in World 1-1, you may add.

“Let me on! Let’s get this sleepover started!” you mash the ‘A’ button repeatedly, hoping it somehow speeds up Jeongin getting back to the main menu. Oh, were you ready to kick his sorry butt.

Suddenly, you hear bouts of laughter echo from the hallway. You tear your eyes off the screen, finding your and Jeongin’s parents entering the living room. If it weren’t for the wall that your father leaned against, he would have collapsed to the floor from how hard he was laughing.

“Jeongin, you told Y/N there was a sleepover?!” Jeongin’s mother exclaimed in between giggles.

Jeongin looks up from his game, his eyebrows drawn together. “Yeah?” He blinks, his voice laced with confusion. “That’s what you said to ask?”

His mom laughs even harder at his reply, her hand over her mouth. “Honey sweet, no!”

Jeongin‘s mouth twists into a frown. He opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again.

Mrs. Yang takes a minute to regain her composure before explaining to the boy, “I meant to ask her to stay for the evening, not the whole night.” She tries to keep a straight face, but another giggle slips out. “There’s no sleepover.”

Jeongin looks down, avoiding eye contact with the four adults laughing at his mix-up as heat rises to his cheeks. Dropping his game controller on his lap, he covers his face with his hands, and lets out a nervous chuckle as his face slowly turns red.

You would’ve been lying if you said you weren’t disappointed that you couldn’t try to see Santa with Jeongin, after all. Despite this loss, you try your best not to laugh at your friend, covering up your giggles with awkward coughs to save Jeongin from more embarrassment. You know both his and your parents will never let him live this down.

And frankly, neither will you.

11 years old.

“You son of a nutcracker!” You cry in unison with Buddy the Elf, your mouth stuffed with an audaciously big chunk of cookie. Maybe you got a bit carried away, but you couldn’t help it if someone was kind enough to bring a platter of fresh-baked cookies to the annual neighborhood Christmas party. It might have been the Choi family—the one with the son your age—which makes sense since they’re hosting the party this year.

Looking up from the gingerbread house he was carefully decorating, Jeongin stares at you with a disgusted frown as you struggle to break down the cookie.

You look back at him innocently, trying not to laugh. “Hi,” you wave, your mouth still full.

Jeongin shakes his head at you. “I worry about you sometimes.”

“You should.” You swallow most of the bite, wincing as you feel it go down.

Gulping down the rest of the cookie, you prop your chin in the palm of your hand as you pull your attention away from the tv and watch Jeongin. He bites his bottom lip lightly, glancing back and forth between the gumdrops and peppermints around the island and the gingerbread house. He squeezes out some icing, poking his tongue out in concentration, and sticks a peppermint window to the food structure.

Smiling at his little creation in progress, you gently poke one of the small candy canes that stand around the house. Jeongin quickly pushes your hand away, letting out a small whine.

You chuckle at his reaction and do it again, and he swats your hand away once more. “Stop itttt~”

You giggle and hold your hands up. “Okayyy, okay.”

You silently follow his movements with your eyes before they flick down to his sweater. It’s hideous, as most holiday sweaters are. The cartoon reindeer with a head too big for its body taunts you, but at the same time it just screams Jeongin. But there is no trace of that obnoxious shade of purple, and you thank whatever deity is above you for it.

Jeongin studies the gingerbread house for a moment, gently turning the brown building around. He takes a yellow gumdrop in his hand and hovers it over a spot on the roof, squinting ever-so-slightly as he imagined how it would look in the final product, whatever he imagined it to be. You stay quiet and just let him go—you know better than to interrupt Jeongin’s creative process.

“What if you did rows of gumdrops on the roof?”

Mrs. Choi, on the other hand, doesn’t know better. The one with the son your age, that is—he tagged along with you and Jeongin for lunch a couple times. What was his name again? Beomgyu, right?

You notice the corners of Jeongin’s mouth twitching downward before he catches himself. “I don’t know,” he says, putting the gumdrop down. “I’ll figure it out.”

Mrs. Choi shrugs and just lingers around, mumbling something about how it reminds her of Hansel and Gretel. You thought she had a point… kind of. You had always heard of the tale of Hansel and Gretel and the house made of candy, but considering it wasn’t much of a Christmas story, you tended to ignore it.

“Oh, that reminds me…” she says to herself after a minute, walking over to the dining table where all the parents sat around. You lean over in your seat and listen closely.

“Beomgyu keeps bugging me about having a sleepover with Jeongin,” Mrs. Choi says as she approaches Jeongin’s mom, her voice carrying over the rest of the chatter enough for you to eavesdrop.

Mrs. Yang nods, a small smile playing at her lips. “That'd be fun for them, when can he come over?”

You blink. It’s… it’s that easy for him?

The two mothers begin talking about schedules or appointments or some other boring adult thing. Whatever it is, you tune it out and turn back to Jeongin, who has opted for an array of different colored gumdrops carefully spread across the roof.

“You’re,” you hesitate, “You’re allowed to sleep over with Beomgyu?”

“Yeah,” Jeongin hums. ”I’ve slept over at his place and he’s been begging to come to mine.”

He chuckles, gluing on another gumdrop, until his words sink in and he fully processes them. His eyes then widen in realization, and he lets the tube of frosting drop from his hand before marching over to his parents.

“Mom,” Jeongin taps on his mom’s shoulder until she turns to him. “Why does Beomgyu get to sleep over but Y/N doesn't?”

You lean over again, hoping to overhear an explanation from Mrs. Yang. All you hear is laughter.

Laughter? That’s it?

You squint as you lean further in their direction, as if squinting would increase the volume of the conversation. All you could observe was a confused look from Mrs. Choi, and a fit of giggles from Mrs. Yang. How helpful.

“Did I ever tell you what happened last year?!” your mom practically shouts to Mrs. Choi, proving your efforts unnecessary.

“Oh my god, you have to hear this! It’s a good one, it’s so cute,” Mrs. Yang gushes, glancing at a flustered Jeongin.

The boy frowns and buries his face in his hands, growing more frustrated. “Mommm!”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker between the now-insanely-embarrassed Jeongin, and his parents’ delight at retelling the account of ‘stay for Christmas’. As Mrs. Yang continued, Jeongin sinks deeper and deeper into himself, and you could practically see a little pinkish-red aura surrounding him.

“And so he tells her…” Mrs. Yang's voice fades into the background when you look out the window and gasp.

Snow.

Before you can register it, your legs are already pushing yourself off the stool, and then you’re running and shoving past other partygoers as you make your way to Jeongin.

“Jeongin.” You tug on his sleeve as you try to get him to move his hands away from his face. However, he swats your hand away.

“Shut up,” he whines.

“No, look,” you try again, tugging more. “It’s snowing!”

Hands instantly falling from his face, he looks out of the window you were motioning at and gasps as well. “Snow.”

Quickly, you glance at Mrs. Yang, making sure she’s still in in-depth story mode before you grab onto Jeongin’s hand and pull him outside into the cold. You shiver lightly as the winter air nips at your nose, but welcome it nonetheless.

“Wanna make a snowman?” you suggest.

Jeongin shrugs.

“Suit yourself.”

Humming to yourself, you squat down at an empty spot and begin to pile some snow together. A small smile decorates your face, perfectly pairing with your rosy cheeks.

I mean, how could you not be happy right now? It’s the first snow of winter. It may be your third first winter, but you swear each one gets more magical than the last. You know Jeongin would agree, no matter how cranky he may be right now.

“That’s like the fifth time my mom’s told that story this month,” the boy huffs after a minute, kicking at the snow in front of him. “It's not even funny anymore. I was a stupid ten-year-old.”

Looking up from the small base of the snowman, you let out a laugh. “I mean… you were ten last year.”

“Y/NNN,” Jeongin whines.

“And it was kinda funny—”

“Y/N!”

You feel a sudden blast of cold hit your side and you let out a yelp, shielding your face with your arms. Gasping, you look back up after a second to Jeongin preparing more ammunition. Suddenly, you’re in the mood to wipe the shi—sorry, poop-eating grin from your best friend’s face. One nice, cold wipe.

“You ass!” you shriek, gasping and covering your mouth once you realize what you had just said. Thank goodness your mom didn’t hear you or she would’ve brought out the bar of soap.

“That’s what you get!” Jeongin cackles back, hurling another snowball your way. This one also hits your coat, splattering into pieces once it collides with your stomach.

“Oh, it’s on!”

12 years old.

The final bell rings across the school to signal the start of winter break. Students of all types make their way out of the main entrance, leaving you and Jeongin in a rather quiet hallway with your locker still open.

Whilst you clear it out, the fruitful voice of Jeongin’s new club buddy fills your ears.

“‘Sup, babies.”

You and Jeongin jump at not only the sudden voice, but also the feeling of an arm going around both your shoulders. A year older than you, Jisung, whom Jeongin had met through the middle school’s anime club, sports round glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose. His hair is a chestnut brown, split right down the middle to frame his face.

Jeongin shrugs Jisung’s arm off of his shoulders, but his other arm stays around you. “How are my favorite underclassmen?” Jisung coos, reaching around to ruffle Jeongin’s hair.

Jeongin jerks his head away from Jisung’s hand, a groan escaping his lips. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

“Nope!” Jisung says, flashing the younger boy a dopey grin.

Chuckling, you duck under Jisung’s arm to grab your backpack as Jeongin scrambles to fix his messy hair. You aren’t sure when or why Jisung started referring to you two as ‘babies' when he was only a year older. He once said something about “taking Jeonginnie under his wing” when you first met him, but that’s the closest thing to an explanation that you got.

Once Jeongin manages to tame his hair, he looks at Jisung with a shimmer in his eye. “Did you pick what we’re going to watch next?” he asks, referring to the next club meeting. It wouldn’t be until after New Year’s, but you figured they’d want to plan ahead now while they’re technically still in school.

“Not yet, but I was thinking of going with a classic,” Jisung muses before turning to you. “You should really join us, Y/N.”

You hum in response, pushing your lips into a line as you ponder it. Of course Jeongin had tried to get you to watch anime with him before, but it was just something you found difficult to get into. “Maybe,” is all you say, mostly to make Jisung happy.

“Yeah! Anyway,” Jisung quickly moves the conversation along, slinging his arms around both your shoulders again and pulling you two closer to him. “What are you guys doing for Christmas? We should do something!” He gleams, glancing back and forth between you two. “With our parents’ permission, of course.”

As Jisung gazes longingly at a dog passing by, yours moves to Jeongin and you giggle at the sight of his cheeks tinting pink. He says nothing, but when he looks up and notices you staring at him, he rolls his eyes.

At the silence, Jisung finally tears his eyes away from the dog, who stops at a street pole for a sniff, and looks between you and Jeongin again. “What's up with you two?” he gulps. “You’re acting weird.”

Jeongin makes a sour face. “You’re acting weird,” he tries to rebut, but he only proves Jisung’s point.

Jisung stops suddenly on the sidewalk. He tilts his head at Jeongin and squints, searching the younger’s face. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Jeongin deadpans, turning his heel to continue the walk home.

“Noooo.” The older boy pulls him back by the hoodie before he can walk away. He gets all up in Jeongin’s face, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows suspiciously. “There’s something going on, isn’t there?”

Nosily, you watch as Jeongin opens his mouth to speak before quickly closing it again. He seems to want to shrink into himself, and you both know why. To his dismay, you find it wholly amusing.

“Baby, come onnnn,” Jisung bounces in place as he chants, “Tell me, tell me, tell me…”

Deciding to ignore the boys’ shenanigans, you look up at the clouds and begin to think about your own plans for Christmas, a small smile forming on your lips.

You’ve always loved the holidays, but after settling into your new neighborhood, it grew on you and swept you off your feet like never before. It’s way more than just the snow—it’s the joy swirling in the air when Christmas music finally begins to play on the radio. It’s the sparkle in the night sky when the whole town shows off their colorful lights. Maybe it’s also the inhuman amount of hot chocolate and sugar cookies coursing through your veins. You’re not hyped up on sugar right now, but Jeongin would be hopelessly shaking his head at you if you were.

It’s way more than just beautiful snow, but it seemed to add a magical touch to Christmas that you never felt in your old neighborhood.

It came like clockwork, too, just like the Christmas party, and you’re eagerly counting the days until both come to life for the first time this season. Especially the Christmas party. Your and Jeongin’s schedules only matched up for lunch this year, and you’re in dire need of some quality time with your best friend.

“Y/N?” Jisung gently shakes your shoulder, interrupting your train of thought.

You blink a few times. “Huh? Yeah?”

“What are your plans for Christmas?”

You look back up at the sky, your lips curving upward again. “I’ll be with my family on Christmas. I'm not doing anything much for Christmas Eve, though,” you say with a giggle, emphasizing the ‘eve’. “It depends.”

Jisung continues to look at you—and Jeongin—with an eyebrow raised. “On what?”

You have to take a breath to try and compose yourself before you continue.

“On—”

“Can’t you let it go?” Jeongin cuts you off with a whine. “It was basically two years ago!”

“‘Cause it was two years ago,” you continue to giggle.

Jisung blinks, trying to figure out this inside joke you two are bickering over, but the poor boy is just as confused as when the conversation started. “What was two years ago?”

“Oh my god, Y/N,” Jeongin grumbles, but it’s hard to take him seriously when he’s failing miserably trying to hide a smile. You just flash your brows at him, and he slides out from under Jisung’s arm and heads straight for you.

A teasing grin grazes your lips, and you gently push Jisung’s arm off of you so you can run away.

“You do this every year!” Jeongin cries out, attempting to reach for your backpack.

“‘Cause it’s funny!” you shout back.

You can feel Jeongin’s fingers brush your shoulders every now and then as he chases after you. Giggles bubble from your throat as you try to make a break for it, tricking him by going the opposite way to where he is. However, he catches on to your attempt to escape and grabs you quickly. His arms wrap securely around you and pull you back as he hugs you, his laughter loud in your ears.

You let out a surprised squeak as you try to wriggle your way out of Jeongin’s grip. “Jeongin, I was kidding, I was kidding!” you cry out in between giggles.

“You always do this!” he giggles too, refusing to let you go.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” you squeal. Tears start to prick your eyes from how hard you’re laughing.

Jeongin lets his arms fall and his lip juts out into a pout. You turn to him and quickly match it.

“Sure, you are,” he mutters, enhancing his frown.

“I mean it, Jeonginnieee.” You lean closer and let your arms slip around him. “I'm sorry.”

He stays stiff for a second before he wraps his arms back around you and smiles. “It's okay.”

A high-pitched squeal from Jisung makes you both jump in surprise and let go of each other. You both stare back at Jisung, who wears a giddy grin stretching from ear to ear. His hands are balled up in tiny fists together, flying up to his mouth as he bounces a little in place.

You blink a few times, stunned to silence for a few seconds before finally speaking. “You okay, Jisung?”

“Y-You… the…” Jisung stammers excitedly before trailing off.

He points between the two of you, then to the sky, and as you both follow his finger, a cold wet drop lands on your cheek, and another on your nose. Jeongin lets out a squeak at one hitting him in the eye, and he scrunches up his face at the impact.

You looked back at Jisung, gesturing upward. “The snow?” you finish his sentence.

The older boy nods eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, the snow!”

You want to smile, you really do—it is the first snow of winter, after all. But it seems like he has a different reason for his exuberance than you do.

You exchange a glance with Jeongin, and he seems just as lost as you are. At this point, you might as well just ask. “What about it?”

Was it because the snow was pretty as it dotted the earth below you? Was it because it marked the start of only the most beautiful time of the year? This could really go any direction.

“You know, like the movies?” He rambles. “When the boy and the girl witness the first snowfall together and…”

Oh no, no, no. Not that direction.

Briskly stepping away from each other, you both frantically shake your heads, the tips of your ears glowing red. Jeongin argues back with a string of flustered protests that you could only nod along to, as you were at a loss for words yourself.

You wonder what was in the snow that had fallen on Jisung to make him think this way. It was insane, he was insane. You and Jeongin? Jisung must’ve gone mad.

Jisung deflates a little, a pout pulling his lips downward. “Aww. That would’ve been cute though.”

You force out a chuckle before continuing your route home. Jisung parts ways somewhere halfway through, but an icky feeling persists in your stomach for the rest of the walk.

It truly baffles you how he saw you and Jeongin having an inside joke, you know, like best friends do, and somehow morphed it into some coupley thing all because of a little snow. The snow is beautiful, of course, but throwing that sappy stuff on top of it? Jisung’s watched way too many movies. And anime. An alarming amount of anime.

“I’ll, um,” Jeongin clears his throat as you both approach your front door. “I’ll see you at the party next week.”

An awkward tension still hangs above you from earlier, but you manage to muster a small smile. “Yeah. See you then.”

He smiles back and gives you a little wave before he begins the five-minute walk to his house. But before you knock on your door…

“Wait!” you blurt and reach out for him. You wrap your fingers around Jeongin’s wrist, prompting him to turn around.

“Yeah?”

“That, um, that thing Jisung was saying,” you hesitate, stumbling over your words. You force out another chuckle in hopes to relieve the tension that’s making your stomach twist into knots. “That’s— that’s not gonna happen to us… right?”

Jeongin lets out a scoff, waving you off reassuringly. “Of course not, Jisung’s just being Jisung.” He smiles a little. “We’re best friends, remember?”

His words fill you with relief, and you smile back. “Yeah. The bestest of friends.”

“That’s not a word.”

“You know what I mean, Jeongin.” You chuckle genuinely this time as you roll your eyes, turning back to your front door. “I’ll see you at the party.”

It’s ridiculous that you have to even ask, but apparently it’s necessary. You’re just lucky Jisung listened to Jeongin in the end, or this whole shipping fiasco would’ve been much more difficult than it needed to be.

Especially since several of your classmates who witnessed the interaction in front of the school parking lot actually seemed to believe it.

13 years old.

You nibble at your bottom lip and run one hand up and down your forearm. Jisung has been glaring rather unamused daggers at you for five minutes now, his round eyes perpetually locked on you as you try to focus on the TV. It makes you feel like there was something crawling all over you, and you have the overwhelming urge to itch every bit of exposed skin you had—which isn’t a lot, but still.

Part of you was tempted to turn to Jisung just to try and poke his eyes out. You wouldn’t actually do it, but with his eyes boring into your head like this, it’s hard not to think about it. You just wanted to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas in peace.

“...Are you gonna talk to him? Like, at all?” Jisung speaks.

A small pout plays at your lips and you cross your arms over your chest. “How can I?” you start. “He hasn’t spoken to me since the start of the year.”

The older boy lets out a sigh. “Have you tried to speak to him?”

You nod once. Finally, something he can’t get on your case for.

Jisung blinks. “…Besides at lunch back in April?”

You huff, looking down at your lap. Your knuckles turn white as you ball the fabric of your sweater in your fists. "Well, it was kinda hard to do when he’s always with Beomgyu.”

Jisung leans forward to get a better look at you, whilst he rests his chin on his palm. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound jealous."

You can’t tell if you want to scoff or to laugh. Jealous? You? Of course not. You just wanted to be around your best friend again. To be able to hang out with your best friend of three years without some stupid kid in your grade teasing you about dating or about how ‘oOOoH, yOu’RE sO iN lOvE’. Ever since winter break ended, it was all you ever heard when you were around him.

"I’m not jealous." You raise your voice slightly, pushing him away without moving your gaze away from the cartoon. "He was my best friend first."

"Can you hear yourself when you speak?"

“Can you hear how annoying you are right now?”

Jisung blinks at you again. He pushes himself off the couch and stands in front of you, his gaze more gentle this time. “You know he asks me about you too, right?”

You sigh. It’s probably the fifth time this week that Jisung has reminded you of this. It’s not that you don’t want to believe him, but with the way Jeongin stared at you with hollow eyes the last time you tried to talk to him in the cafeteria eight months ago, you’re not sure if you can.

“Plus, he’s literally…” Jisung continues, spinning you around to where Jeongin sat in the kitchen with Beomgyu. Right where you two sat at the Christmas party two years ago. “…right there.”

“I know,” you huff.

Of course you knew that, and you knew he knew you knew. Jeongin was the first one you recognized when you stepped foot in the Choi house for the party. Sure, part of it was because Jisung frantically shook your arm and pointed him out, but even if he wasn’t there you would’ve spotted the top of his head from a mile away. You would’ve known he hadn’t left his gingerbread house in the kitchen all afternoon, whether or not the coconut-haired boy was there to pester you about it.

”Then gooo,” Jisung chides, pushing you to the kitchen island by the shoulders. “Talk. To him.”

Oddly enough, talking to him is the last thing you want to do. At least, not here. Not when there’s a bunch of adults that, frankly, are nosier than your typical middle schooler. Luckily, the only adult there when you approach the kitchen island only glances at you for a second before stepping past you. No one else is watching, but it still feels like a hundred pairs of eyes are piercing into your skull.

You suck in a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“Hey.”

Jeongin pushes his lips into a thin line when he looks up at you. “Hi.”

From the corner of your eye, you can see Beomgyu raise his head and look at you both before going back to what he was doing. Rocking on the balls of your feet, you take another deep breath. “How’ve you been? It’s been a while.”

You’re not sure how long Jeongin goes quiet for, but every second of silence makes you feel like your insides are trying to escape from you. You purse your lips as your gaze casts down to your feet, unable to look him in the eye. Why did the friendship between you and Jeongin have to change? Why couldn’t people just keep their mouths shut?

“I’ve been okay,” he mumbles. “Just busy, you know?”

You hum in response. He was right; this year had been a lot school-wise, especially when you counted how everyone watched you like hawks, ready to strike at the first opportunity for a ‘ship moment’, as some people had started to call it.

“Yeah.” You try to laugh, but anyone can tell it’s fake. “Me too.”

Jeongin stays silent again, just nodding at your words. You weren’t sure what heartbreak was and of course, you weren’t in love with him. He is—was—your best friend. But if you had to guess, heartbreak probably feels something close to what you’re feeling right now.

You gulp, and take one more shaky breath. Your bottom lip wavers as you try to get your next words out.

“I…” miss you.

You want to say it so bad, but you stopped yourself as soon as you started. When Jeongin doesn’t turn his head, you feel your heart sink to your stomach, or whatever the equivalent of that was when your best friend completely ignores you, effectively declaring the end of your best-friendship.

You hate this so much. Screw the other kids for getting in the way of your friendship, screw Jeongin for letting them, screw yourself for not doing more to stop it, and screw Jisung for pushing you over to talk to him.

You don’t say anything more as you turn away and solemnly make your way back over to where Jisung is still standing. When you feel tears pool in your eyes, you make a sharp turn for the bathroom, and the older boy worriedly trails after you.

“Baby…” he calls as he follows, quickening his pace to catch up to you. “Surely it wasn’t that bad.”

You stop in your tracks, suddenly causing Jisung to bump into you. He leans forward and around your shoulder before taking a step into your view, instantly frowning when he sees the sadness apparent on your face. “Baby…”

“It’s over, Jisung.” You blink rapidly. “We’re never going to be friends again, not after this.”

Furrowing his eyebrows together, Jisung sighs. He places his hands on your shoulders to try and get you to look at him. “Don’t say that, you guys will get past this. You guys are best friends for a reason.”

“No, we won’t.” Your voice shakes as you speak. “You saw how awkward it was back there! There’s no way he wants to be friends anymore… let alone best friends.”

You continue to blink your tears away, but one manages to slide down your cheek. Your breathing becomes ragged as your world feels like it’s crashing down on you, and all you can do is helplessly step closer to Jisung as you hiccup.

“I just want my best friend back.”

Pulling you in, Jisung wraps his arms around you in his attempt to comfort you. He sighs quietly, his own frown on his lips as you choke out a sob.

“I know you do.”

14 years old.

Well, your last year of middle school was off to a surprisingly pleasant start.

After years of being told where in the classroom you could sit, your 1st period teacher nearly had you jumping for joy when she said you were free to pick your seat for the year. It was such a minute detail to be in control of, but it felt so freeing to your adolescent self.

The only problem: you don’t know anyone in this class. You vaguely recognize two or three faces from last school year, but even they had gravitated to other students in the class, clustering into their already-established friend groups. It’s like the galaxies in the night sky that you learned about last year, and you’re a lone star, floating around in the abyss called your new English classroom.

Shrugging to yourself, you scoot past some students in the aisles and pick a seat in the middle of the room in between two other empty desks. You had counted ten or so desks that had yet to be filled, so you figured you should take your chances. You don’t know anyone… at least, for now. Maybe someone will show up later.

Sliding your phone out of your pocket, you plug your headphones into your ears and listen to music for the last few minutes of passing period to relax a little. It quickly feels pointless, though, as the chatter in the classroom overpowers the song blasting right by your eardrums.

However, one voice seems to ring above all the others.

“Um… is this seat taken?”

You take an earbud out, lifting your head to find the source of the voice. Jeongin stands over the chair to your left, adorning a god-awful purple sweater that reminds you of the one he wore when you first met. It almost brings a smile to your face… almost. It probably would have if things had ended differently between you two.

This is the first time you have spoken to him since The Most Awkward Conversation Of Your Life™. Maybe you were being slightly dramatic, or at least that’s what Jisung had told you for weeks after the incident, but you still stood by what you felt. You weren't sure if you and Jeongin could ever get back to the way you were—not having spoken since that moment kind of proved to you that you couldn’t.

Yet here you are. You’re not sure if this will just be a one-off conversation or a second chance of sorts. But after a moment, you decide to take that chance.

“Go for it.” You gesture to the seat.

Jeongin smiles awkwardly, the tips of his ears pink as he sets his backpack down on the floor. He doesn’t move to get any of his things out of his bag, and just sits there with laser-focus on his hands that rest on top of his desk.

You’re not sure how long you two sat in silence, but thankfully, it feels nothing like the last time. It actually feels…. comfortable. Welcoming, even. Almost like when you first met him at the monkey bars.

Jeongin looks over at you after a few moments, still rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand. “So… how are you?” he finally speaks.

It’s then that you notice just how much deeper Jeongin’s voice has gotten since the last time you spoke. You figure it would make sense; you hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, and a lot can happen in said year. It’s still odd, however—seeing him change, but not being there to experience it with him.

You nod, looking down at your own hands, but you let a small smile slip out. “I’m okay.”

You are okay, really, at least for the moment. But now you knew you would be, for sure.

…

“Who wants the last cookie—” Mrs. Yang calls from the kitchen, but she’s quickly cut short.

“ME!”

You and Jeongin spring up from the couch at the same time, giggling as you push past each other and race to the kitchen. At the last second, Jeongin sticks his arm in front of you just as you come in reach of the cookie, barring you from the baked treat as he swipes it with his free hand.

“Hey!” You cross your arms, biting your lip to stifle more giggles from coming out. “You cheated!”

Jeongin doesn’t even try to hide the cocky smirk on his face. “Oh, you love me anyway.”

You narrow your eyes at the boy. “Do I? Do I really?”

Jeongin only stares back at you, blinking a few times before he bites into the cookie. Right. In. Front of you.

Your jaw drops in betrayal. What an asshole, he knew you loved those cookies more than life itself! If you had to choose, though, you highly preferred this over where you two were a year ago. He may be stealing your cookies like the pubescent raven-haired crook he is, but since it comes with being best friends again, you’ll learn to live with it.

You keep your eyes trained on him as you calculate your next move. You know exactly how to get him back for this, but is it worth it? Was waiting only a few months after recovering your friendship enough time?

Oh, who are you kidding—of course it was.

“Two can play that game,” you state, taking a piece of cookie from his hand.

The boy scoffs. “Oh, really?”

Your eyes widening ever-so-slightly, you bite into the cookie. You keep your gaze on him as you chew, not looking away even for a second, and you say the three magic words—even more magic than ‘please.’

“Stay for Christmas?”

His smirk immediately drops, and one of your own plays at your lips. You know you got him.

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” he grumbles.

You just swipe another piece of cookie from his hand, still grinning triumphantly. “To be fair,” you swirl the cookie in your hand for emphasis, “you walked right into it.”

Jeongin sighs, watching you toss the last bit of the cookie into your mouth. “There's nothing I can do to make you forget it, huh?’

“Nope,” you say with your mouth full. “Not unless you do something more quote-worthy.”

“Fine, then stay.”

You freeze, your cheeks still full of chewed-up cookie. “What?”

“You heard me, Y/N.” Jeongin steps closer, not breaking eye contact. “Just stay for Christmas. It’d be fun, and at least then, you’d have nothing to try and tease me with.”

You swallow the dessert in your mouth and stare at him, speechless. All this time, you had been just playing along with the line as a joke. Was it actually possible to have a sleepover with him? You almost smile as you ponder it over in your head. Being all cooped up in his room and kicking his ass at Mario Kart, then scrambling to be in bed by midnight as if Santa would actually appear the second the clock strikes twelve? You don’t have to think twice.

“Honey sweet, you and Y/N are still on that?” Mrs. Yang says, turning her head to look at you two from the sink.

Jeongin groans. “Yeah, mom, and why do you still call me that?!”

His mother just chuckles and turns back to the dishes she’s rinsing. From what you could gather, she doesn’t seem opposed to you sleeping over. It wasn’t a yes, but it certainly wasn’t a resounding no, so you jump to make a beeline for your parents and beg them to let you stay overnight.

Unfortunately, your parents have a more straightforward answer for you. Not even the growing piles of snow outside could save you from going back home at the end of the night.

You also receive quite the lecture about “the dangers of staying over at boys’ houses” on the way home. Their words fly in one ear and the other for you. If this was anyone else, it’d be different, but this is your best friend that they’re talking about.

The only time Jeongin ever laid a hand on you was during the grand battle of Rainbow Road when you were eleven. In his defense, he didn’t mean to push you so hard that you fell off the bed and nearly dislocated your shoulder, but that’s what happens when two of the most competitive people you know go head-to-head in a battle of Mario Kart.

You huff. At least you know actually staying for Christmas might be an option one day.

15 years old.

You peek around the edge of your locker door every so often as you shove various notebooks into your bag. Even when you finished packing up, you busy yourself with pretending to wipe specks of dust off your binder, and checking that you chose the correct textbooks to bring home with you for the fifth time in three minutes.

Another minute or so passes and you check the clock on your phone, then you look past your locker door one more time, slowly leaning over until one eye peeps past the edge. You find Jeongin speaking to one of his teachers as they exited their classroom, waving goodbye as he heads closer to you.

You smile to yourself, then scan the area around you one more time. The coast seems clear, but you decide to give it one more minute before going over to him, just to be safe.

“You’re doing that again?”

You jump and turn on your heel, nearly hitting your head against your locker door. Jisung stands behind you as he watches you incredulously, backpack slung over one shoulder as he leans against the wall of lockers. His arms are crossed as he raises an eyebrow at you, and his features are twisted into an odd mixture of concern and confusion.

You look back at the main hallway, then back at Jisung. “Um… yeah,” you state, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “Is there a problem?”

Jisung just snickers at your confidence. “Babe, honey, sweetie,” he says. You roll your eyes at the endless string of nicknames. “You look ridiculous.”

“I do not!” you scoff defensively.

He leans closer to you, his wide eyes boring into yours. “Is this about a booooy?” he teases jokingly.

You grimace in his direction, delivering a flick to his forehead as you pretend to rummage through your locker again. “You know what it’s about, Ji,” you grumble.

He’s technically not wrong. It is about a boy, but it’s not about a boy. There’s a huge difference—especially when the boy in question was Jeongin.

“You still look ridiculous.” He props an arm against the locker wall. “It’s like you want people to think you’re dating.”

You sigh, slamming your locker shut. “You don’t get it, people will stare if we don’t do this. Plus, our system’s worked for almost a semester already.”

“Y/N, this almost looks more suspicious than if you two just acted normally.” Reaching out a hand, he turns you by the shoulders to face him. “Is this peeking thing really necessary?”

You let out an agitated huff at his constant questioning. The nearly-unreadable grimace makes a return to Jisung’s face, and you know it is there to stay until you explain yourself. It seems pretty simple to you, though.

You see, once middle school came to a close, you saw a window for a fresh start in high school. Any indications of The Incident™ (the former name had become a mouthful for you to repeat every time) were to die with the remnants of your braces phase and short-lived obsession with rainbow loom bracelets and 5 Seconds of Summer, as far as you were concerned. So, accordingly, you and Jeongin had devised a plan to prevent those dreaded “ship moments” from repeating themselves in high school.

Since most of your time together at school wasn’t in actual classes, you and Jeongin agreed to sit separately for bus rides to and from school, sometimes even opposite ends of the bus if necessary. On the way to school in the mornings, you two figured it was safe to walk together to the bus most days. Your neighborhood was one of the first stops and the few kids on the bus when you get on are usually snoring in the back. As long as you and Jeongin sat across from each other near the front and didn’t wake them up, you figured you’d be fine.

However, after school, you had to be fast. Ideally, you’d meet up with Jeongin when the hallways were less crowded than right when the final bell sounds, but when enough students were still hanging around the corridors that it wouldn't raise eyebrows with the school staff. You’d meet, speed-walk to the buses together, and enter separately. Once you pulled up at your stop, you two would depart and walk separately—until your bus turned the corner, then you’d walk each other home. It sounded like a lot, yeah, but after a while you get used to it.

After months of practice, you found that the most optimal time to pull this off was around five to eight minutes after the bell. Eight minutes was pushing it, but as long as you and Jeongin made a run for it, you wouldn’t miss your ride home. You had it down to a science. Jisung had no reason to worry, but he always seemed to find one.

Despite this, you don’t want to bother explaining the system you and Jeongin had perfected over the semester, again—the last time you did, it only raised more questions. So this time, you simply wave a hand in dismissal. “Yes, it’s necessary,” you deadpan, “you wouldn’t understand.”

Jisung blinks, then lets out an exhausted sigh. “If you insist…”

The older boy trails off, just in time for the younger one to appear at your side. “Hey, guys,” Jeongin chirps, waving at you both.

You smile at him briefly before turning to Jisung. “Do you have any other questions before we go?” you ask, your voice dripping in (mostly) feigned annoyance.

“No, but I probably will later.” The older brunet waves at one of his friends from anime club before looking back at the two of you one more time. “You two should go catch your bus, get home safe, yeah?”

You both nod, giving him a thumbs up as he jogs over to his friend, and you and Jeongin make your own jog for the front doors of the school.

You’re immediately greeted with a gray cloudy sky and you instantly feel the cold swirl around you. There are crowds of people littered around each section, waiting for their own respective buses. It doesn’t faze you in the least, though.

You had months of practice under your belt—years, actually, if you included shoving past couples in the school hallways who seemed to walk like they were floating on the moon. To this day, you never understood the appeal of holding up foot traffic for your fifth kiss goodbye of the hour, but whatever. Just like how other teenagers always mysteriously seemed to stop right in front of you just as you were dashing full speed for math class, you always seemed to find a way through the crowd.

It was simple, really. Like, actually simple compared to your aforementioned plan. Just keep your eyes straight ahead, and somehow, people always seem to clear a path for you. Despite your current plight, you and Jeongin have yet to miss your bus since the start of high school.

And that’s what you do. You take the lead in pushing through the masse of students, most of which are chatting amongst their friends as they meander to their ride home. Normally, you and Jeongin would talk a bit on the way, too, but you had hit the eight-minute mark thanks to your encounter with Jisung, so you had to book it.

You keep your gaze locked in front of you, only turning back occasionally to make sure you didn’t lose Jeongin in the crowd. As predicted, students who aren’t otherwise in a hurry move out of your way. You let out a small sigh of relief at this; it’s one less thing you needed to worry about as you got closer to your bus.

Next: enter separately.

By the time you and Jeongin navigate your way out of the crowd and to bus #143, you find a line of students waiting to board that stretches the length of the bus itself. You groan, but at least you wouldn’t be stranded at school, so you consider this a win.

But still, you keep your unwritten pact in mind and you gesture for Jeongin to line up. “You go first,” you mumble, gently pushing him to the end of the line and you step back to wait another minute.

Jeongin turns back to you. “Aren’t you gonna get in line too?”

You stuff your hands in your pockets and quickly scan the line. You recognize the girl in front of him from math class, and two kids from the group of boys that just got behind Jeongin used to tease you two in middle school. “Not yet,” you shake your head. “It’s not safe.”

He furrows his brows together, his lips pulling downward. “You’re shivering,” he deadpans.

Now that he mentioned it, you realize you’re jumping in place in an attempt to warm up. It’s cold outside and you’re eager to leave, but you don’t mind waiting a little longer.

After moments of hesitation, Jeongin removes a hand from his hoodie pocket and grabs your forearm, making sure your hands stay in your own pockets as he pulls you to him. “Just get in line, Y/N,” he mumbles, “the sooner you get in line, the sooner we can get out of the cold.”

With wide eyes, you immediately step back. “Are you crazy?!” you hiss. “People are gonna talk!”

“So? Let them.”

Jeongin’s words ring in your head as he pulls you back towards him one more time.

You let out a gasp when you feel your body collide with his. You blink a few times to recompose yourself and stare up at him, your mouth agape. “What’s gotten into you?” Jeongin makes a face to himself as he responds, “What’s gotten into you?”

“You know what got into me.” You give him a dubious look. “The agreement, the one we both agreed on?”

Jeongin hums, shrugging his shoulders. His eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks back over to watch the line. “Who cares?”

“I thought you did…”

His gaze burning into your skin makes you want to shrink away. Only a few months ago, he was dead set on this agreement, but now? What changed and so suddenly, at that?

“Why should we let them try to ruin our friendship?” Jeongin asks after a beat of silence. “They already tried once, and look what happened. We shouldn’t let them again.”

You freeze yet again at his words, so much that the boy has to drag you onto the bus with him. His hand on your forearm is enough to snap you out of your haze, and for some reason, it’s all you can focus on.

You feel him let your arm go after a minute, and you look over at him. He slings his backpack off his shoulders and places it by his feet as he settles into the window seat, then looks back at you. “Aren’t you gonna sit down?” he says in a similar tone as earlier, patting the empty spot next to him.

“Um…”

Jeongin looks at you expectantly. It was tempting. it really was. But you catch a familiar wisp of curly hair as the group of boys from behind you two turn the corner and strut down the aisle.

You hesitate, before sharply turning on your heel. “I’ll just sit a few rows back,” you mumble.

“Oh my god, Y/N.”

Another surprised yelp leaves your lips as Jeongin pulls you out of the aisle. He tugs you by your hoodie sleeve this time, and when the group of boys walk past you, he lets his grip loosen and you feel his palm rest on your forearm again. It’s warm against your skin and you almost don’t want him to move it, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud.

The boy glances at the seat next to him, then back at you, his eyes almost weary. “Just sit, please.”

You peer over your shoulder as the group of boys collectively take their seats in the last two rows of the bus. Sighing, you supposed that it’s far enough that you would be safe, and allow yourself to plop on the torn blue leather.

“See, it’s not so bad, is it?” Jeongin smiles at you reassuringly. “No one’s gonna talk, we’ll be fine.”

He pats your forearm twice before bringing his hand back onto his lap. You almost frown at the move.

The last of the students file in after a couple more minutes and the bus slowly pulls onto the road. Jeongin leans his head against the dirty window as he plays Doodle Jump on his phone, and you mindlessly watch him try to beat his high score.

You don’t know how much time passed when the bus abruptly stops, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. The two of you are thrown forward as the driver suddenly slams the brakes, and Jeongin instinctively grabs your arm to keep you from falling. You don’t, luckily, but you do bump into him.

“Ahh, sorry!” you exclaim.

Jeongin shakes his head, as if to say it’s okay. “Are you okay?”

He gives your forearm a gentle squeeze before letting go. You follow his hand as it falls back on his lap, before meeting his gaze and nodding slightly. “Yeah–” you hesitate for a second, looking down at his hand again then back at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

You nod once, giving him a tight smile before settling down properly. That is, until you catch white flecks falling outside from the corner of your eye. It takes a second to click, but once it does, you turn to the window in a flash, eyes sparkling at the view outside.

“Jeongin,” you squeal, shaking him by the shoulder and you point to his right. “Look!”

The boy slides his phone in his pocket and a grin of his own appears as he looks out the window, seeing the snowflakes blanket the outside world for the first time this winter. Leaning past Jeongin to peer outside, your smile grows even more cheerful. All you need now is a mug of hot chocolate filled to the brim with whipped cream as you curl up on the couch and put on one of your beloved Christmas movies. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be home for a while, so this would have to do for now.

“I’m not sure if you’ve ever noticed, but,” Jeongin starts after a minute, a chuckle escaping his lips, “the snow always starts when we’re together.”

“Really?” you question.

He nods, his eyes focused on what seemed to be the most interesting bush in the world to him, and he smiles. “Yeah.”

You’re not sure if it was instinct or the cold that made you want to sit closer to Jeongin. You try not to think about it.

“It's just a coincidence,” you attempt to laugh. “You can’t really predict the weather.”

“I don’t know,” Jeongin muses, clicking his tongue. “If Jisung was here right now, he’d be losing his mind.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “That boy lost his mind ages ago. We just spend a lot of time together, of course we’re gonna see the first snow together at least once.”

Jeongin shrugs his shoulders beside you, then it goes silent. You aren’t sure how long for, and you just quietly watch the white crystals of snow hit the glass window.

You feel Jeongin lean into you slightly after another moment. “That reminds me…”

You hum, looking over at him.

His smile curls into a playful smirk. “Stay for Christmas?”

You gape at him with an amused grin. Jeongin? Saying the line himself, unprompted? Who was this boy in front of you? “I thought you hated that line.”

Jeongin shrugs again, a smile still playing on his lips. “Eh, it kinda grew on me.” He pauses for a moment then speaks again. “But seriously, do you want to?”

Your brain goes static for a second. “As in, stay for Christmas? Like, for real?” He nods, and you deflate, slumping in your seat. “You know they’ll just say no.”

The hopeful smile on Jeongin’s face also fades, recalling your failed attempt last year. “I know,” he said, “but maybe it’s worth another try?”

You press your lips into a thin line, keeping your gaze down as you shrug. “We can if you want.”

Once the bus pulls up at your stop, Jeongin walks you home, but not without going inside with you to find your parents. With a reassuring hand on your back, he helps you plead your case to your parents, but as you feared, they shut you down quicker than last time.

Jeongin sends you a sad smile as he heads home that day, leaving you to mentally prepare for the hell you’re about to receive from your mother the minute the door clicks shut behind him.

16 years old.

“One, two…” your mother counts slowly as she tries her best to fit the both of you on her screen. “Get a bit closer together, guys,” she ushers you with one hand.

You huff but follow her order, and step closer to the boy next to you. “Mom, don’t you have enough photos?”

A chuckle leaves your mom's lips as she continues to take more, now at different angles. “There’s never enough photos, sugarplum!”

Jisung snorts from beside you at the nickname and you send your elbow right into his ribs to get him to shut up.

“Y/N!” your mother scolds. “Don’t be so mean, he’s being nice and taking you! Heaven knows he didn’t need to.”

“Mom!” you gasp in surprise.

“Yeah, sugarplum,” Jisung says mockingly, faking a pout as he looks down at you.

You glare up at the older boy and silently hiss. You knew this would be a bad idea, but this is still better than what you were originally going to do: go to winter formal on your own. Especially since Jeongin had his own date.

“Okay, okay,” your mother says as her gaze focuses back onto her phone. “Last ones.”

“You have plenty,” you mutter through gritted teeth.

Your mother finally lowers her phone and slips it into her oversized cardigan pocket. “Bring her home by midnight, okay? No funny business!” She borderline-chastises Jisung, and you give her a look. She’s known Jisung for years at this point, it was almost as bad as if she lectured Jeongin himself.

Luckily for you, Jisung plays along, drawing two fingers to his brow and flicking his wrist to salute. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Okay,” you start quickly as you hastily grab Jisung’s wrist. “We gotta go, bye!”

With that, you drag Jisung out of the door and to his car before your mother can get another word in.

“Whoa there, sugarplum, calm down,” Jisung sings, “we have all the time in the world.”

“Would you let that nickname go, please?” you groan.

Jisung unlocks his car as he walks around to the driver's seat, laughing loudly. “Never, baby.” With the car open, he stares at you and taps his temple. “That puppy is locked into the memory banks for life.”

You roll your eyes for the nth time, open the door, and let it slam behind you as you plop onto your seat with crossed arms, Jisung’s laughter filling your ears as he follows your actions. Igniting the engine, he turns the heaters to full blast and rubs his hands together to try and gain some heat.

“You good?” you ask, watching him blow hot air onto his hands.

He hums and nods his head, and turns the heaters down shortly after. “I like the car to be toasty, okay? I want to feel like a marshmallow.”

“...A marshmallow?”

Jisung nods again affirmingly. “A marshmallow.”

“I don’t even want to know,” you shake your head in amazement and look away from him.

“We’re picking Innie up first, right?” Jisung asks, his attention now on the road as he backs the car out of your driveway.

“Yeah,” you hum. “His date is meeting him there.”

After that it goes silent, partly because Jisung needs his full attention to drive, but also because there just isn’t much to say. You’re surprised Jisung hasn’t taken this time alone with you to grill and interrogate you, but maybe he had turned over a new leaf, changed his ways.

It seems more likely, however, that you just thought too highly of him, especially when he asks you about it in the next moment.

“So, how do you feel about Jeongin having his own date?”

You turn your head to look at him. “Don’t you have the road to focus on?”

“Don’t deflect, baby,” he hums. “You can’t answer a question with a question.”

“You can’t answer a question with a question,” you mimic, tightening your arms around your chest.

“Now you’re just being obnoxious,” he says, which causes you to whine and throw your head back.

“Why are you even asking me? It’s fine, so what if he has his own date? I don’t care.”

“Kinda seems like you do,” Jisung sings.

“I don’t,” you spit back a second too quickly.

“Look at my face.” Jisung takes one hand, motions around his face, and sends a look towards you before focusing back on the road. “Does this face look like one that would believe your bullshit?”

“Your face looks dumb and like you’d believe any type of bullshit,” you mutter, your arms still crossed.

“Now, I know you’re only saying that because you’re annoyed at me for pointing out the obvious.” Jisung laughs. “It's okay, I forgive you and I know I’m the most handsome guy you’ve ever laid your eyes on.”

“You need to get your ego checked.”

Pulling up at the corner of Jeongin’s street, Jisung places the car in park. “The things I do for this friendship,” he sighs dramatically as he pulls out his phone to text Jeongin.

You shake your head, keeping your gaze out the window. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I think you misspelled the word ‘genius’, sugarplum.”

You side-eye the older boy, whose smug smile is illuminated by the light emitting from his phone. “I wasn’t spelling anything.”

“Misspoke, then.” Jisung locks his phone and looks at you innocently. “Same thing. Jeongin’s on his way.”

“Not the same thing,” you mumble before you nod your head. “Okay, but how is he going to sneak out in a suit?”

The sudden thought came to your mind. Jeongin had family come in from out of town for this large family party, which admittedly, he didn’t want to be there for. However, his family would definitely notice if he just walked out of the house in a tux.

“That's where my genius comes in,” Jisung smirks and points to the back seat. “Emergency tux.”

You look back and there is, in fact, a tuxedo folded neatly on the middle seat along with a belt to match, ready for Jeongin to wear for the formal. You stare at it for a moment too long before your gaze settles on Jisung. “What emergency is there where you need a tux?”

The older boy shrugs and makes a face. “A fancy one?”

You blink as you look at him, but you couldn’t stop the side of your lips turning up into a smile. “I really don’t get you sometimes.”

His confident grin makes your own grow wider. He leans forward slightly and ruffles your hair with one hand, causing you to groan before flipping down the sun visor and looking in the tiny mirror on the back of it as you try to fix it.

Jisung laughs as he watches you. “It's okay, you can say how amazing I am and how much you love me, you don’t have to pretend.”

Whilst fixing your hair in the mirror, your mouth twists into a disgusted frown and you send him a glare. “I repeat what I said earlier, you need your ego checked.”

“You’ll admit it one day,” he jokes.

You close the visor back up. “Not gonna happen.”

Before Jisung has the chance to say anything else, the right back door opens up. Jeongin throws himself in and sighs contentedly at the warmth that surrounds him. After a moment, he opens his eyes and smiles at the both of you sitting in the front. “Hey, guys!”

“Hi,” you smile.

Jisung smiles too and points to the suit behind him, which makes Jeongin clap his hands in delight. “Emergency tux?” he says.

Jisung clicks his tongue, sending a wink and a finger gun the younger boy’s way. “Emergency tux, baby.”

With furrowed eyebrows, you blink at the boys. “What is it with you and emergency tuxes? Seriously, what would you even need an emergency tux for?”

“A fancy emergency,” Jeongin answers matter-of-factly, which causes Jisung to point at him and nod.

“See, he gets it!” he agrees. “Hey, without that emergency tux, Innie would be going in sweats to the formal. Wouldn’t want that, now, would we?”

You roll your eyes and look away from them. “Guess not.”

“See, Y/N?” Jisung reaches over to ruffle your hair again, and you successfully duck your head away this time. He chuckles and draws his hand back, shifting the gear to drive and bringing his attention back to the road. “There's a method to my madness.”

You just huff, slumping back in your seat in defeat as he turned the car around.

“Wait,” Jeongin pipes up as Jisung straightens out the wheel, “how am I supposed to change?”

“As I said, there’s a method to my madness.,” Jisung says, perhaps a bit too confidently as he pulls out of the street. “Just give me a minute.”

You narrow your eyes at Jisung, who keeps a straight face as he drives. You almost hate it more than his smug smile from a few minutes ago. At least then, you had the slightest clue to what he was thinking. The fact that the car is silent, save for the quiet Christmas music on the radio, does nothing to calm your worries.

Unfortunately, it looks like your gut feeling was right as you realize Jisung is pulling into a stop just right outside your neighborhood.

“Here you go,” Jisung announces proudly, placing the car in park again. “Changing time!”

Your eyes bulging out of your head, you snap your head to Jisung. “Are you insane?!” you hiss. “We’re in public!”

The older—but you were very hesitant to say wiser—boy shrugs. “He’s gotta do it somewhere! It’s either here or the school parking lot.”

“You didn’t think about a gas station?!”

“Guys, it’s fine,” Jeongin says, his voice wavering slightly as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “Just... just don’t look, please.”

You cover the sides of your eyes as you keep your gaze out the window. Every now and then, you hear Jeongin hit something in the back, causing him to groan in pain and Jisung to holler at his misery.

This goes on for almost a minute before you hear the gear shift click. Keeping your hands around the sides of your eyes, you glower at Jisung, who smirks deviously as he pulls the lever to drive. “Don’t. You. Dare,” you grumble.

“Oh, watch me,” Jisung snickers, tapping his foot on the gas.

“Hey! I’m not done yet!” Jeongin shouts as the car inches forward, sending Jisung into another fit of laughter.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”

Jisung abruptly hits the brake, causing Jeongin to shriek as he thuds against the back of your seat. The older boy lets out another cackle at this, clapping his hands as he throws his head back. He glances at you in hopes that you’re just as amused, but you only glare at him.

He lets out a drawn-out but satisfied sigh, and puts the car in park again. “Ahhh, that was fun.”

You stay silent, maintaining your pointed stare.

“Chillax, Y/N.” He nudges your shoulder, but remains overly cheerful even though you don't budge. “Ooh, look! Snow!“

You blink. As tempting as it is to take your eyes off of him, something in your gut begs you not to.

“I’m serious!” Jisung cries again, pointing fervently in front of him.

You sigh and turn your head slightly. At least he wasn’t lying about the snow, although it does seem lighter this year. A few snowflakes trickle down here and there, but it’s nowhere near enough to obstruct the view outside. And it definitely isn’t enough to keep Jisung from starting and stopping the car one more time, sending Jeongin crashing into the back of your seat again and proving your worries correct.

“I’m gonna kill you,” the younger boy scowls, and you lean over to flick the older one on the forehead.

“Agh!” Jisung slaps your hand away, stifling a giggle. “Okay, okay! I'm done now!”

“You better be,” Jeongin grumbles.

After a few minutes, he gasps. “Done,” he says, and you drop your hands from either side of your eyes.

You look in the rearview mirror, Jeongin in full view as he adjusts his tie. Sure, the suit was a size too big, and the jacket almost slipped off the ends of his shoulders, but he somehow seemed to make it work. You couldn’t explain how, it just has this charm that perfectly complements the sweet but awkward boy you’ve grown so fond of. It’s so incredibly Jeongin, and it makes you smile like a dope.

But as he runs his hands through his hair, in desperate attempts to fix it, you feel your breath hitch in your throat. That… was new. And different. By now, one would look away, but for some reason, you can’t.

That is, however, when you notice Jisung’s eyes are locked on you, his eyebrows ever-so-slightly raised in amusement. You look down at your hands as you feel your cheeks get hot. Now that was another thing you’d have to explain to the older fool. Great.

Snow continues to fall from the sky as Jisung resumes the drive to school, but it never goes past a light sprinkle. It wasn’t even enough to coat the ground in that fluffy, white blanket you had grown accustomed to in the last few years. Every so often, the older boy glances over at you, catching you lingering at the rearview mirror as Jeongin uses his phone camera to fix his hair. It only makes you sink lower and lower into your chair, and you resort to keeping your eyes on your lap for the rest of the ride.

You don’t look up again until you feel the car stop and hear the gear shift click back into park.

“We’re here,” Jisung announces in a singsong voice.

“I can tell,” you grumble, recognizing the dimly lit courtyard in front of you.

“There she is!” Jeongin seems to have spotted his date and he squeaks, checking himself in the rearview mirror one last time. “Do I look okay?” he asks, a hopeful smile on his face.

You both turn back to look at him. You open your mouth to speak but can’t get anything out, and you find yourself stupidly staring at him again.

“You look great, Jeongin.” Jisung smiles over his shoulder. He glances at you for a second, flashing his eyebrows at you, and you turn back around in embarrassment. “Now gooo, she”s waiting!” He winks at the younger boy, ushering him out of the car.

Jeongin chuckles, smoothing out his oversized suit once more before he leaves. You keep your gaze out the windshield the whole time, staring at nothing in particular, but you notice that the snow stops entirely once Jeongin wraps his arms around his date and escorts her inside.

You feel your breath get caught in your throat again. “We–” you start, then pause to clear your throat. “Yeah, we should get going, too.”

Keeping your eyes locked in place, you blindly reach down to unbuckle your seatbelt. You’ve never felt more suffocated in a vehicle in your life and everything inside you was screaming at you to get out.

But Jisung, ever-persistent, seemed to be working against you all evening. He reaches over, gently grabbing your arm before you can touch the door handle. “Uh, uh, uh, you’re not going anywhere.”

You silently groan in your mind as you turn to face him with a sour look. “What do you want?”

His mouth curls up into a smirk. “What was that just now?”

“What was what just now?”

You tilt your head, your eyebrows furrowed with your lips pursed together. No matter how hard you try to keep a straight face, it only seems to egg him on more.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Jisung nudges you repeatedly, his smirk growing wider. “That whole staring at Innie thing! It’s almost like you just realized how in love you are with him.”

A scoff escapes your lips almost instantly. Seeing Jeongin in that suit was… an experience, to say the least, but to go as far as to say you were in love with him?

That said, it doesn’t surprise you that this all came from the guy who genuinely believed his crush would ask him out at midnight if he made a wish and forwarded a poorly-formatted copypasta to seventeen people. Bless his heart, but you’re smarter than that.

Really, you couldn’t pinpoint what sucked the breath out of your lungs when you laid eyes on Jeongin in the rearview mirror. All you could caulk it up to was some ill-timed coming-of-age epiphany: you two were sixteen now, and you could do things the sixteen-year-olds in movies do all the time. It’s a strange pill to swallow, but unlike Jeongin, it didn’t even occur to you that you could’ve asked someone out to winter formal. Everyone else your age seemed to jump at the chance, but a small part of you figured you and Jeongin would’ve gone together—as friends, of course.

Of course, you know Jisung wouldn’t buy that answer, so you had to think of something else. Something more his style.

“That’s— that’s not what happened.” You take a breath then wave him off with your hand as you continue. “It's just the tuxedo effect, it’ll be gone in the morning.”

You turn to get out of the car (again), hoping Jisung would leave it at that, but he leans over (again), grabbing your hand this time.

“No, no, no, sugarplum, you aren’t getting away that easily.”

You want to scream. Praying for the earth to swallow you whole sounds good, too. Anything over facing Jisung, whose eyebrows are raised as he nosily rests his chin on his palm.

“Spill.”

You lightly push him away from you as you sigh. “What is there to spill? It’s…” You pause, before continuing in a rushed mumble. “It's when you find someone attractive because of the fact that they’re wearing a suit.”

Jisung blinks a number of times before he bursts into laughter.

“That’s so bullshit! Finding someone attractive just because they’re wearing a suit?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “That's insane.”

“Oh, so magical snow makes complete sense, but finding someone attractive because of a suit doesn’t?”

“It’s not magical snow, it’s fate and romance all twisted into one!”

“Whatever, you’re hopeless.” You throw your hands up in defeat. “My point still stands: it’ll be gone by tomorrow.”

The main doors capture your attention and your eyes linger on it as multiple other students filter in and out of the formal. Your shoulders tighten and an unexplainable uneasy feeling makes a home for itself in your chest.

“I thought this was what you wanted…” Jisung starts, his gaze following yours, “for people to not think you guys were dating.”

“It’s not that,” you respond quietly.

“Then what is it?” he asks, matching your tone.

“It’s just…” you begin. “It’s weird to think he’s at the age where he’s actually thinking about liking someone and dating people.”

“But you know what that means?” Jisung asks, prompting you to break your staring contest with the school doors and look at him. “It also means you’re old enough to do the same thing: date and move on.”

You scoff, open the car door, and put one foot out, ready to leave. “I don’t know what you’re on about, shut up.” You get up and let the door swing closed behind you.

Jisung quickly follows suit and makes his way around the front of his car and over to you. He places one hand on one of your shoulders, as the other delicately moves some of the hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear.

“I’ll stop bothering you about this, yeah?” he says, his voice more gentle than teasing this time. You could count the number of times he’s spoken to you like this on one hand. “At least, I’ll stop for now. And if Jeongin won’t tell you, then I will—you look absolutely beautiful.”

Gently lifting your chin with two fingers, Jisung leans over and places a light kiss upon your forehead. You swear that for a minute, your heart stopped beating. Even with all of the overly sweet nicknames and the babying, Jisung had never gone so far as to do something so physically affectionate with you as this. However, you like it. You like it a lot more than you thought you would.

His lips linger there for a moment longer before he pulls away with a smile. “You’re more than capable of going after what you want. But don’t let him cloud your judgment tonight. Have fun, make memories.”

The older boy steps back from you, but offers an arm for you to take. Once you do, he leans in slightly and chuckles. “And try not to let this so-called tuxedo effect get to you too much,” Jisung adds as an afterthought. “You might fall in love with me by the end of the night.”

Using the arm linked around his, you deliver a light smack to his chest.

“In your dreams, asshole.”

…

Spending the night with Jisung as your quote-unquote “date” was more of a blast than you thought it would be. From the flavorful fruit punch and the obviously bulk-bought snacks, it truly was a night to remember.

You made sure to catch plenty of Jisung’s dad-dancing on your phone—for blackmail purposes, of course. And when it got to that normally awkward slow dance section of the night, Jisung did what he did best and made it anything but that. Sure, you stood on his toes once or twice, but he didn’t complain, at least verbally, and all-in-all, the night seemed to be a success.

From the few glances you stole during the night, Jeongin also seemed to enjoy his time with his date. The feverish look he had in his eyes when he hopped in the back of Jisung’s car paired with the hint of lipstick on his cheek confirmed it for you. You decide not to dwell too much on it, taking Jisung’s advice, and just hand Jeongin a makeup wipe before he could stroll home with crystal clear evidence on his face that he was ever gone.

The car might as well have been a fridge as you’re sitting there, hands rubbing together so quickly you could start a fire in your attempt to gain warmth. Jisung had started the car already, but his heaters are taking much longer to kick in compared to earlier. Jeongin, now laid out across the back seat, gushes about how the night was and how breathtaking his date seemed to be in her off-white dress. (You don’t know who would wear white to a school dance, but you try your best not to judge.)

His rambles, however, are soon cut short by Jisung, who looks at him through his rearview mirror. “Sorry, buddy, but you need to change before you get home, remember?”

Jeongin huffs as he pulls himself up into a sitting position and nods his head. He looks at you, to Jisung, back to you, then Jisung again. “You’re not going to do that stop-start thing again, are you?”

“Nah.” Jisung waves him off with one hand. “Wouldn’t be as funny the second time. Plus, I feel like sugarplum here would kill me.”

Jeongin’s eyebrows furrow together slightly. “‘Sugarplum?’”

“Don’t ask,” you say hollowly, and send Jisung a stern look to not answer Jeongin either. But in all honesty, if ‘sugarplum’ was the main thing the older boy took from tonight, you’d be completely fine with that.

“Just hurry up and change, nimrod,” Jisung says as he once again looks in the mirror.

You stare at him blankly. “What the heck is this? The eighties?”

“Just say you’re jealous and go, okay, sugarplum?” Jisung makes a face, and you throw your hands up dismissively.

“Did someone spike the punch?” Jeongin asks. “You’re both acting weird tonight.” Every now and then, you hear bumps and noises as he attempts to get back into his sweats in an orderly fashion.

“We’re not being weird,” you respond flatly, your eyes locked on a shallow puddle on the sidewalk from the snowfall, if you could even call it that. You try your best to change the subject and keep Jeongin from questioning you more. “Are you done yet? Can we go?”

With one last grunt, Jeongin succeeds in getting his head through the hole of his sweatshirt. “Yep, you can drive, Jisung.”

That was enough for Jisung to pull the car into drive and to get on the way.

You drum your fingers against the dashboard as Jisung drives, using everything in you to not pluck off the acrylic nails that took you an hour to stick on. You’re pleasantly surprised with how little this whole operation had gone wrong, and you could only hope that the rest of the trip would stay this way.

You don’t even allow yourself to relax into your chair until you three pull to the corner of Jeongin’s street for the second time. Jisung nearly laughs at you for this, but you quickly silence him with another smack to the chest.

“Owie! Looks like sugarplum’s feisty tonight,” Jisung cries, flashing you a fake frown.

You wince at the nickname and turn around, ignoring him. “Jeongin, do you have everything?”

Jeongin haphazardly tosses the bunched-up tuxedo on the seat beside him as he nods. He slides across the back seat and reaches for the door handle before you stop him in his tracks.

“Wait.” You lean over the back seat and quickly wipe at his cheek, and he attempts to back away. “You missed a bit of lipstick, idiot,” you state flatly, ignoring the sudden heat you feel creeping up your neck. “You’re basically asking to get caught.”

Jisung sits and stares as he watches you wipe away the little remnants of lipstick on Jeongin’s cheek, and he doesn’t fail to notice the way the tips of Jeongin’s ears turn a subtle pink color at your touch.

“Ah,” Jeongin chuckles awkwardly, “thanks.”

It is when Jeongin exits the vehicle that you finally take a closer look at what he was wearing. He wasn’t just wearing any sweatshirt—it was purple. Suddenly you remember your plight from earlier and your breath catches in your throat for the third time tonight.

“Wait, Y/N.” You hear Jeongin knock on your window, snapping you out of your daze.

You turn over and lower the glass, Jisung snickering under his breath all the while. “Yeah?”

A stupid grin comes over Jeongin’s face as he utters his next words.

“Stay for Christmas?”

You scoff and suppress a laugh. Maybe if he wasn’t still on a high from the formal, you would've considered asking your parents again this year. But what’s the point if they’ll just say no?

“Not a chance, now go home.”

After making sure Jeongin climbed into his bedroom window, Jisung turns the car around and takes you home. As he pulls into your driveway, you quickly notice how all of the lights are off in your house, minus the porch light. You let out a sigh of relief—your parents must be asleep.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to Jisung with a smile. “Thank you, Jisung,” you hum. “Tonight was fun.”

“That's alright, sugarplum, glad to be of service,” he shoots you a toothy grin and salutes.

You once again wince at the nickname, but decide to let it go this time. You quickly lean across the dashboard and place a kiss on Jisung’s cheek. “And thank you for what you said earlier, it meant a lot.”

Jisung chuckles as you pull away. “You’re not falling for me, now, are you?” he quips.

“Don’t ruin the moment.” You slap him on the arm, and pause for a moment before opening the car door. “Just, thank you for tonight, seriously.”

“Y/N, it’s fine, I had fun too.” Jisung smiles. “Just make sure to get inside, it’s cold.”

You smile back and hum once more. Shutting the car door behind you, you rush your way up to your front porch before turning back to Jisung with a final wave. Then, you’re met with warmth, welcoming you after a long trip away as you get ready for bed.

The next morning, however, you’re greeted by two very angry parents.

By the time you got home last night, both your parents were already asleep, so you thought you had successfully gotten away with everything. Even if they were awake, they had no way to know what you did. But it turns out Jeongin’s cousin, Jungwon, caught him sneaking in and immediately snitched to his parents, who, in turn, texted yours, and probably Jisung’s as well.

Let's just say that you are now grounded well into the new year. No going out for a whole month, except maybe the Christmas party next week, if your parents are feeling generous.

You know it’s going to suck being confined to your house for the entirety of winter break, but you suppose that’s the price you pay for being a loyal best friend. If anyone was going to help Jeongin sneak out to a school dance, it’s you—even if you wouldn’t be the one to go with him in the end.

You’d do it again in a heartbeat.

17 years old.

“Can I open my eyes now?” you whine.

“Nooo,” Jeongin drones from behind you, “just be patient. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

You sigh impatiently as he guides you by the shoulders to… somewhere. The December cold swirls around you, biting at your cheeks as you attempt to swivel your head and look around. You don’t know why you even bothered trying, though, as Jeongin had tied a black cloth over your eyes before he drove you off to this mystery location.

Despite this, he still instructed you to keep your eyes shut. It felt excessive, but you obliged to make him happy.

“Fine, but do I really need the blindfold?” You bend your head up and over, looking to your best guess as to where Jeongin is. You can feel his hands on your shoulders, so wherever you’re staring couldn’t have been far off.

“Yes— well, not really.” Jeongin laughs sheepishly and he helps you onto what you assume is a crosswalk. “It was Jisung’s idea.”

You snort, shaking your head to yourself as you try your best to walk in a straight line. “Of course it was.”

Upbeat chatter and Christmas music dances around your ears as you near the still-unknown location. You can’t see a thing, but you can already feel the aura of holiday cheer everywhere around you, just waiting to sweep you off your feet. It is just a week shy of Christmas, after all.

Soon Jeongin comes to a stopping point, and you feel his hands leave your shoulders. “Can I take off the blindfold now?” you frown, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“Yah, just wait!” Jeongin scolds, but you hear a light chuckle quickly follow. “Patience, Y/N.”

You feel his fingers gently graze your hair after a moment, finding its way to the knot on the back of your head. He gets it undone quickly, but holds the cloth around your head as he counts down.

“Three… two… one…” he says softly, slowly removing the blindfold from your eyes and unveiling the scene in front of you.

The glinting lights make you wince for a moment before your eyes get used to the new sudden brightness. You gasp at the sight in front of you, almost jumping out of your shoes in joy. Thousands of Christmas lights are hung up around trees, swirled around lamp posts, and hung overhead for people to walk under. It is breathtaking, truly breathtaking.

You spin around to face Jeongin in an instant. His smile almost puts the lights out of business. “You brought me to the lights?”

“No, I brought you to the desert.” The boy rolls his eyes, his words coated with sarcasm—but still, he smiles. “Yes, I brought you to the lights, dummy.”

His warmth soon overtakes yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in close. He freezes for a moment, but soon lets his arms wrap around your waist. He squeezes you tight one final time before he pulls away, looking at you with a tender smile.

“We should go, don’t want to miss out on the lights, do you?”

You aren’t sure if he meant to grab your hand as he drags you away, but you don’t do anything to let go, either. You just stare down at your enjoined hands as you follow him, the background noise blurring away into nothing, overtaken by your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Minutes seem to tick by before you can bring yourself to look up again. Your gaze lands on the back of Jeongin’s head, and it only seems to intensify when he swiftly turns his head. Something about the way his hair flowed with the quick action almost makes you dizzy, and you have to look back down to shake yourself out of it.

You finally have the courage to let your eyes trail back up again a moment later. Immediately, something in the air feels different. Jeongin had turned back to check on you, and a cluster of yellow and white lights seemed to give him a halo-like ring above his head. The music and chatter blurs around you once again, fading into a quiet buzz as your body stiffens and you nearly lose your breath. It’s like you’re the main character of one of those animes Jeongin tried to get you to watch, like the one where the boy and the girl stumble upon a field of fireflies together in the middle of the night. Here you two are, a mere speck amongst the thousands of lights, yet the boy in front of you seems to shine brighter than them all.

It’s strange to think about. You are here for the Christmas lights—no, Jeongin brought you here for the Christmas lights—but all you can focus on is him.

“Are you okay?”

The three words and a light squeeze of your hand pull you back down to earth. You didn’t realize Jeongin stepped closer to you, and you feel yourself exhale shakily, your hand slowly slipping from his grasp.

You stare back with wide eyes, and something inside you compels you to step closer to him. “Y-Yeah,” is all you manage to get out.

The colorful lights seem to flicker as you look around. For a second, they do feel like little fireflies, floating around you as they emit their warmth. And when your gaze lands back on the boy in front of you, the warmth seems to encircle you even more. You nearly forget about the cold nipping at your cheeks, and a rosy glow fills them instead.

“It’s just… I…”

As your eyes meet Jeongin’s once again, you can’t help but notice a slight redness in his cheeks as well. His lips curve upward slightly, and he gently takes your hands in his.

“I know. It’s beautiful.”

You smile up at Jeongin and notice something moving behind him. You squint, looking past his ear, and find those all-too-familiar fluffy crystals fluttering down. Immediately, your jaw drops and your smile grows wider.

“Jeongin, look!” You let go of one of his hands and point to the snow surrounding you.

The scene unfolding around you leaves you awestruck. The colors from the lights bounce off the falling snowflakes, and the music seems to chime more vividly as the snow whisks around, making everything feel brighter and more alive. You feel like your head is spinning as you swivel around, sparkles in your eyes that could rival the spectacle in front of you.

A shaky breath leaves your lips as you take one more step towards Jeongin. Your hands slowly find their way up his shoulders and around his neck, and you let his body heat swaddle you, wrapping you up in a wintry glow as you take it all in. It truly feels like you’re in a dream.

Jeongin follows your gaze and chuckles, a fond smile on his face as he gently pulls you closer. “Yes, Y/N, I know what snow is. Is snow bad?”

You look at him again, your wide, shimmering eyes meeting his warm ones. In that moment, nothing else mattered: just you, the snow, and the boy in front of you.

“It's perfect.”

And like the blonde girl in the firefly scene, you’d give anything for the moment to last forever.

…

“Where were you?”

Your mother’s words nearly make you jump out of your skin the second you step in the house, and you hiss to yourself. Your time with Jeongin at the light festival had swept you off your feet so much that you forgot you weren’t even supposed to be there.

After the events from last year, your parents had grounded you for a whole month, effectively barring you from even stepping foot outside of the house unless it was to school and back. Even worse, they grew so concerned about your so-called “excessive time with this boy” that they placed a strict curfew on you once your grounding sentence was lifted. No seeing friends—read: no seeing Jeongin—after 8pm, lest unspeakable things happen to you. It was ridiculous, not only because you’re seventeen, but because, somehow, your best friend since you were nine was now this supposed threat.

The only way you had been able to skirt around this was to lie, usually about studying at a coffee shop with an unnamed friend. You can’t remember what excuse you gave this time, but at this point, it didn’t matter much.

Your mother crosses her arms, a look of disapproval etched on her features. “Where were you, really? And don’t say the school library this time.”

You curse to yourself, your mistake dawning on you. Why'd you pick a Saturday night to say you were meeting up with some friends at the school library? Did your excitement over Jeongin and his ‘mystery surprise’ really mess with your head that much? It couldn’t have been him… could it?

After a minute, you conclude that you just slipped up after exhausting your list of excuses over the course of the year. It was bound to happen.

“Well?” your mother says expectantly.

You just sigh, throwing up your hands in defeat. “I was with Jeongin.”

Your eyes flick up, waiting for her next frustrated ramble about how you’ve been spending too much time with him. Instead, you get a throaty chuckle as she shakes her head at you, a smirk taking the place of her frown.

“Of course you were.”

Blinking, you stare at her in shock. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! It means nothing.” She turns around, busying herself with wiping some crumbs off the dining table. However, after closer inspection, you see that the table is spotless.

“No, it means something,” you protest. What happened to all her complaints about how much time you’ve spent with Jeongin? Why the sudden change of heart?

“I didn’t say anything, sweetheart,” your mom says. “But did he?”

“Did he what?”

“You know, the three words,” she looks up, sending you a wink and imitating Jeongin, “‘Stay for Christmas?’”

Mortified, you feel heat rush up to your ears as your mother lets out another laugh. “Mom!”

You refuse to admit it to her, but you actually said it first this year.

It was just half an hour ago. Jeongin walked you to your car, a gentle hand on the small of your back as he followed you down his driveway. He wrapped you up in a strong embrace before you could even unlock your car, and you looped your arms around his neck in return, smiling into his shoulder.

The hug was sweet—Jeongin’s hugs, which seemed to increase in frequency lately, always were. But he held you for a second longer than normal in this one, and when you tried to let go, he let out a small whine and held you closer to him for one more moment. The move took you by surprise, but you hugged him back nonetheless.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you melted into his hold, letting your head fall against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat could’ve lulled you to sleep if you let it, and the light snowfall twirling around you two certainly didn’t help matters. Gradually, you relaxed your arms, letting them hang loosely around his neck, and you let out a contented sigh. You truly never felt more at peace.

Maybe it was safe to say something in the air shifted while you were wrapped up in each other’s arms. Usually, he’d give you a fond chuckle and a curt pat on the back right before he pulled away and took off. But when the two of you finally let go, you opened your eyes to find him smiling down at you. Something akin to affection swam in his soft irises as he slowly pulled back, his hands gently resting on your waist. It was… different, for sure, especially coming from him.

You smiled back warmly, linking your hands together behind his neck. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jeongin nodded his head, an adoring smile still tugging at his lips. “Just… got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Something seemed to swirl in his features that you couldn’t quite pick up. You registered the return of the light pink on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as you stood under the streetlight together, but nothing else. It was probably just the cold that stirred this up, so you decided not to ask.

You could only stare back at him as you tried to think of something else to say. Something about the position you two were in—arms wrapped around each other under the moonlight—felt too close to lovers in the movies. You couldn’t explain why, but it made your brain go static. And in your attempt to relieve the tension, you gulped once and spat out the first stupid one-liner that came to mind.

“By any chance, are any of those things ‘Stay for Christmas’?”

Of course it had to be that.

Jeongin let out a light scoff, rolling his eyes playfully as he dropped his hands from your waist. You giggled at his disappointment, but you instantly missed the warmth that radiated from him. Luckily, you had half a mind not to say that out loud.

“Okay, moment over,” he mumbled, gently pushing you towards your car. “Get home safe, Y/N.”

“I’m just kidding!” your mother cries in exasperation, bringing your focus back to her. “I know I can’t stop you from seeing him. He is your,” she pauses to make air quotes, “‘best friend’, after all.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “He’s my best friend. No air quotes needed.”

Your mother nods, clearly not believing you. “Right… for now.”

Feeling more blood rush to your face, you roll your eyes and unceremoniously march upstairs. “Goodnight, mom.”

She’s crazy, right? Absolutely. You know yourself and you know your friendships better than anyone. You and Jeongin are best friends for a reason—nothing more, and certainly nothing less. The way you felt like you were on cloud nine just hours ago? It was a one-time thing, you were just fascinated by the lights.

Jeongin had nothing to do with it.

18 years old.

Your scarf is wrapped tightly around your neck and face in attempts to shield yourself from the cold. You jump on the balls of your feet in place as you wait for one of the Yang family to open the door and invite you into the familiar warmth. It’s pretty much tradition at this point to spend at least part of Christmas Eve with the Yangs, but they’re hosting the Christmas party this year so it’s just another reason to stop by.

Shoving your hands into your coat pockets, your eyes brighten when you see movement through the front door window. Soon enough, Mrs Yang opens up the door with a smile of her own.

"Y/N!" She sings, ushering you in before she pulls you into a hug. "I think Jeongin's still asleep, so you can do those honors?" She chuckles.

You pull away, slip off your coat and scarf, and hang them up before you rush up the stairs. "Leave it to me, Mrs. Yang!"

Once you’re up the top of the stairs, you creep down the hallway and knock on the door. When you get no response, you just let yourself in.

The scene in front of you is something you expect, but it brings a fond smile to your face nonetheless. Jeongin is spread out across his bed, his blanket bunched up around his chin. His hair is all fluffy from a good night’s sleep and his face looks peaceful as he snores lightly, like nothing in the world could ever hurt him.

Going over to his bed, you let yourself fall onto it and your head rest on the pillow next to him. Examining his face, you notice how his eyelashes lay against his cheeks and how his lips part slightly as he breathes.

"I can feel you staring at me," Jeongin says, his eyes still closed.

You clutch your chest in surprise as you roll onto your back. "Oh my god, why do you have to scare me like that?” you cry, staring at the ceiling. "You could have said you were awake."

"But then you wouldn't get your chance to admire me," he chuckles as he finally opens his eyes.

"Shut up, no I wasn't!"

"I don't know, your stare felt pretty heavy to me."

You glare at him, flying up and off of his bed before ripping the blanket off of him.

"Y/N! What the hell?!" Jeongin gasps, shooting up so he’s sitting. "What if I was naked?!"

"I know you too well, you don't sleep naked." You bend down to stare at him. "You'd be too scared to sleep naked," you add as you throw his blanket back onto his bed.

Jeongin rolls his eyes, grabbing the blanket before he wraps it around himself like a burrito. "What are you doing here anyway?" he mumbles. He runs one hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it, but all it really did was make it even more fluffy. Something about it makes your heart quicken its pace.

"Don't you remember what day it is?"

Jeongin blinks slowly, his tiredness showing. "Friday?"

You groan, sitting down on his bed again before quickly grabbing his pillow to hit him with it. "It's the Christmas," hit, "party,” another hit, “you idiot!"

You attempt to hit him again, but he catches the pillow with his hands and pulls it away from you.

This only causes you to stumble into him, also making Jeongin fall back in the process. A gasp escapes your lips and you use your hand to stop yourself from head-butting the groggy boy. You blink quickly, his eyes gazing into your own. His nose brushes up against yours ever-so-slightly, and you clear your throat, your cheeks flushing.

"This is your fault,” you attempt to joke.

"Me?!" Jeongin scoffs. "You hit me first!" Mimicking his words silently, you roll your eyes. "Uh, but can you move, you're a bit heavy."

Your eyes widen and you scoot away with lightning speed. "Sorry.” You blink, staring down to play with your fingers in your lap.

"By the way," Jeongin says, "I didn't forget today was the Christmas party."

“Well, that’s why I’m here early, to help out,” you mutter, your face still down.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Jeongin gets off of his bed, goes over to his drawers and pulls out the first shirt he finds before pulling his pajama top over his head. You jump and turn in the opposite direction, your cheeks fully flushed.

“Jeongin!” you whine, holding the backs of your hands to your cheeks in an attempt to cool them down. “You could have warned me or told me to leave.”

“Aww, you blushing?” Jeongin snickers. “Never seen a boy undress before?”

Without looking back at him, you try your best to chuck his pillow in his direction. You hear it thump against the wall instead.

“You missed~” Jeongin sings, which makes you scoff.

“And I wasn’t blushing, asshole, just didn’t want to get scarred for life.”

Of course you’re blushing. Especially when he nonchalantly stood and started to strip off his top. And of course you had seen men undress before… in the movies. But there’s no way you’d utter a word of it to Jeongin, not when it would send his already-soaring ego to new heights.

“We both know that your life would actually be improved,” Jeongin chuckles to himself.

He walks across his room and when he comes into your peripheral, you instantly move to cover your eyes. It doesn’t help your reddening cheeks when the sound of Jeongin’s laughter rings out louder.

You feel his fingers wrap themselves around your wrists as you try to fight him from pulling them away from your face. “I’m dressed, idiot, stop being so shy.”

“Stop making fun of me!” you cry and he guides your hands away from your face.

Your eyes meet his and you notice the cheeky smile playing at his lips, which only turns yours into a pout. You only wish he’ll soon forget about this and move on to something different to make fun of you with. However, when you note the playful twinkle in his eyes, you know your prayers won’t be answered.

“Look, you’re blushing so hard!” He continues to smirk.

“I told you, I’m not blushing!”

You attempt to hit him, but with his fingers still wrapped around your wrists, you fail to do so. His grin seems to only grow wider as you roll your eyes and try to pull your wrists from his grasp.

“By the way, Jisung said he was going to stop by later for the party,” you mention. Jeongin’s smile seems to drop slightly at the sound of the older boy’s name.

“Why? He doesn’t live in the neighborhood.”

You shrug as you look at Jeongin with a blank expression. “How am I meant to know how Jisung’s brain works? He's in a world of his own.”

Jeongin hums, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“But in all seriousness,” you start, “he said something about missing us, and that, like, his college just isn’t the same without us?” you suggest. “Also, there was something about this girl he really likes and magic snow and shit,” you add, which causes Jeongin to snort.

“Did he actually say this or you making it up?”

“It’s more like reading between the lines, if you will,” you giggle.

“So he didn’t say shit, you’re just making it up as you go along.”

Jeongin crosses his arms over his chest as he stares at you, waiting for you to formulate your next response. But when the only one he gets is you playfully hitting his arm, he rolls his eyes for the nth time.

“Don’t we have to help set up the party or something? Or a movie to watch?”

“Right, yeah. We should do that.”

Jeongin laughs and as soon as he grabs your hand, flashbacks instantly flare up in your mind from the year before, of the Christmas lights he took you to see—of the way he seemed to shine under them all. You make sure to wish again that he won’t notice the new blush that presented itself as you thought of that time.

You keep quiet, not wanting to give yourself away as Jeongin gently pulls you out with him. You let your eyes gloss over his room once more. You’ve been in here a thousand times before and it seemed to grow with him over the years, and in a way, it grew with you, too. You remember the days when his bed was adorned with Toy Story bedsheets, Woody’s face front and center on his comforter (but you knew Rex was his favorite character). It had long since been traded in for sleek, black sheets—arguably more fitting for someone who is waiting for his first choice university, at the other side of the country, to respond with his admission decision.

And although you’ve been here a thousand times before, something new on his dresser catches your eye.

“Wait, is that…?”

Letting go of his hand, you make your way to the dresser, moving a crumpled up piece of paper out of the way to reveal a photo. It’s from when you were both ten years old; nearly a year after you had first met on the monkey bars, about two weeks before that classroom Christmas party. Mrs. Yang had taken Jeongin to a lights festival one December weekend, like the one you went to last year, and she happened to invite you and your parents along. You and Jeongin stood together in the center of the picture, and a giant Christmas tree towered behind your small frames. The mirthful glow of the tree enveloped the two of you as you posed for the photo, jolly smiles plastered on both of your faces.

Gasping in surprise, your lips part slightly as you take the photo in your hands. “No way…” you murmur softly, and you look up at Jeongin as he makes his way to you. “How… how did you find this?”

Jeongin peers over your shoulder. He gently holds the frame in one hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he smiles fondly. “My mom stumbled across it a couple months ago. She was digging through old photo albums and found this tucked in the back of one of them.” His thumb grazes over the glass. “She framed it and gave it to me, I guess she knew how important it was.”

You blink several times, hoping he doesn't catch the way your eyes briefly well with tears as you take in the details of the picture. You remember that night vividly and all the memories from it seem to come flooding back all at once.

It was your first ever Christmas lights festival, and it was nothing short of magical. The vibrant holiday lights glistened all around you, rivaling the sparkles in your wide eyes. The bells in the soft Christmas music gently tinkled in your ears, as if Santa himself was reminding you he would be on his way soon. The gooey, fresh-baked (and rather expensive) chocolate chip cookie you had split with Jeongin, paired with the rich (and also questionably pricey) hot chocolate you had begged your mom to buy along with it, brought even more warmth pooling in your belly as you leaped down the lit-up aisles with your best friend.

Looking back, perhaps that was what sparked your ongoing Christmas obsession. Sure, it didn’t snow that night, but seeing the bright bulbs all around you twinkling like stars in the sky captivated you wholly, wrapping little ten-year-old you in a warm, merry glow. It calmed the impatience for Christmas bubbling inside you by the day, but lit the fire inside you for the awaited day like never before. And best of all, your best friend was right by your side, being pulled into the evening’s embrace with you.

You notice one very important detail in the picture, though, that breaks your bubbling sentimentality, and instead makes you giggle.

“Oh my god, it’s the sweater.”

The fact that the picture was taken at night and the lights added a yellow glare to the photo made it difficult to spot. But one could take a closer look and see that, indeed, Jeongin was sporting that obnoxious purple sweater under his puffy blue coat.

Jeongin lets his hand drop, leaving the frame in yours as he frowns in offense. “Heyyy, it was comfy!”

You stifle another laugh. “Doesn’t change the fact that it was ugly as hell.”

He sneers at you, “Oh please, like you didn’t wear hideous clothes when you were ten!”

You shrug as you pull the frame up to eye level and continue to giggle. “Maybe, but nothing will beat that sweater.”

You lunge out of the way as Jeongin tries to wrap his arms around you and grab the photo from your grasp. However, a giggle escapes your lips as Jeongin’s fingers graze your side, which causes you to jump away from him.

A knowing smirk appears on his face. Your eyes widen.

“Don’t you even think about it.”

Jeongin doesn’t listen to you though, and his hands are already at your sides. Your grip on the photo tightens in an attempt to not drop it as your eyes prickle with tears. Jeongin’s fingers run up and down your sides as he tickles you, and causes a mix of gasps and laughter to escape your throat.

“Jeongin!” You continue to laugh as you try to step away from him.

Jeongin thinks quicker. Instead of torturing you more, though, you’re surprised that he chooses to pull you closer to him instead, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I got you now!” His giggle rings in your ears as he wiggles you like a rag doll. You halfheartedly try to push him away, protesting in between your own giggles.

“Stop itttt, you asshole!”

He seems to listen to you this time, too, and lets you go. However, an evil grin lingers on his face.

You inch back cautiously, keeping a careful watch for his next move. He responds by slowly leaning closer, his smile stretching wider and wider. You slowly move your hands up to your sides to protect yourself from another tickle ambush, a nervous giggle slipping out.

He seems to inch closer and closer to you, and he stops right before your noses can touch, a shit-eating grin on his face. Then he mumbles, flashing his eyebrows:

“Stay for Christmas?”

You groan exasperatedly and lightly push the cheeky boy away from you.

“Oh my god, Jeongin!”

Jeongin breaks out into shy giggles as he steps closer to you, poking you playfully. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from doing the same whilst you try and swat his hands away.

“Come baaaack!” He chuckles after a moment, stepping close enough to wrap his arms around you again.

“Get me out!” You cry out as you try to break free. Your giggly demeanor completely breaks, however, when Jeongin just hugs you closer to him, taking you by surprise one more time.

“No,” you feel him hum through your shoulder, tucking his head in it when you try to step away. “Don’t move.”

You fight and lose to the smile that appears on your face as you wrap your own arms around his shoulders.

You can’t explain how in moments like this, he easily causes your heart to race by doing the littlest things. It makes you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat right now as you’re pressed up against him. If he can, he doesn’t say anything.

“Ahem.”

A familiar voice breaks the silence hanging around you two. You both break away from the hug, keeping your gaze cast downwards as you turn to face Jisung. He had swung the door open at some point and was now leaning coolly against the doorframe as he watches you two.

Seeing you both cower under his gaze seems to amuse him greatly, and a smirk makes its way onto his face. “What was that?” he says, failing to hide the chuckle threatening to spill out.

You stuff your hands in your pockets as you sputter. “It– it’s not what it– we were just–“

“We were just reminiscing, Jisung,” Jeongin grumbles from beside you, his arms crossed over his chest. His cheeks seem to burn red as Jisung grins wider.

You simply nod along with Jeongin. “Yeah, reminiscing. What he said,” you murmur.

“Oh, you keep telling yourself that, baby.” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, which he had seemed to let grow out during his time away.

He lets out a satisfied sigh before he continues. “Ahh, I knew this would happen! It was snowing by the time I got here, so I figured you two were up here together,” he wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, “alone. And you called me crazy!”

You want to roll your eyes at his antics, but you can only chuckle fondly. Sure, it seems like the now-college boy still believes in magic snow, but you have to admit: you did miss hearing him gush about it all the time.

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, “why’d you come up here anyway?” You seize the opportunity to wiggle your eyebrows back at him. “Did you miss us?”

It’s now Jisung’s turn to roll his eyes at you. “Mrs. Yang was looking for you two so she sent me up here,” he says, dodging your question.'' You know the party started already, right?”

Your eyes widen, and you and Jeongin flush in embarrassment again.

“Oh, right,” Jeongin mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he exits the room. “The party.”

You place the framed photo of you two on the foot of Jeongin’s bed before following him out. Jisung holds the door open for you two, his smirk getting cockier by the minute.

The older boy pokes both your and Jeongin’s cheeks as you step out of Jeongin’s room. “For the record, I did miss you two.”

You snort, reaching a hand up to ruffle his hair before the three of you make your way downstairs. “I know.”

19 years old.

“You’re cheating!”

Hyunjin’s voice nearly makes your ears ring. He really has no need to be speaking so loud, as you’re literally right next to him.

You grip your controller tighter as he tries to swipe it from you with his hand, and you lean away from him.

“Am not!” You yell back, your eyes focused on the tiny Nintendo Switch screen. “You just suck at this game.”

At the same time as Hyunjin gasps, Felix and Seungmin burst into laughter at your response from the other end of Jisung’s bed. At the corner of your eye, you notice Felix fall to the ground amidst his fit of giggles.

“Just get better, Jinnie,” you quip, a confident smirk tugging at your lips.

Even with Hyunjin trying to swat you like a bug, you still manage to keep your eyes locked on the game. Your chosen character, Toad, remained in first place, and after getting a green shell from a lucky box, you send it backwards, causing Hyunjin’s Princess Daisy to spin out.

He gets passed by multiple NPCs, landing him in 10th place with one lap to go. The way he grumbles and glares at the screen only increases yours and the other two boys’ laughter.

You’ve successfully maintained your first place title as you raced around Moo Moo Meadows. That is, until halfway through the last lap, when a voice pulls your attention from the game.

“Why are only two of you playing?” Jeongin says, entering the room with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. At the sound of his voice, you shoot up out of your seat and look at him with a smile.

“Jisung only has two controllers and Felix was dumb and forgot his,” Seungmin snorts, which causes the blonde boy to pout.

“Hey!”

Hyunjin goes silent, his own eyes narrowed on his half of the screen as he slowly creeps up the positions.

“About time you showed up,” you giggle, “thought you weren’t going to come.”

Jeongin laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, had a few things to do first, but I’m here now.”

Gasps erupt from Seungmin and Felix, and Hyunjin cries in triumph as he throws his hands and the controller into the air. Your head snaps to the game and your mouth falls open as you find Princess Daisy listed as first place, dancing in her car as she continued around the track—whereas Toad, in your distracted state, had been passed by all of the NPCs and was in dead last, “DNF” flashing on your half of the screen and on your 12th place ranking in the middle.

“You cheated!” You gasp at Hyunjin, throwing yourself back down onto the couch as you mash the ’A’ button.

“Just get better Y/Nie,” Hyunjin remarks as he grins mockingly, using your own words against you.

“You guys did this on purpose,” you huff, glaring at the boy who just ruined your five-game-win streak. “Rematch, now.”

“But it was meant to be our go next!” Felix cries, his pout exaggerated.

“Maybe Hyunjin shouldn’t have cheated!”

“Maybe you should have stayed focused!” Hyunjin fights back.

“Where's Jisung?” Jeongin asks out of the blue, and you motion to the door without saying a word. Jeongin snorts, nodding his head. “Thanks.”

He leaves the four of you in the tiny dorm room to join Jisung wherever he was outside—you assumed the convenience store by the dorm lobby. Your attention gets caught once again when your phone lights up, a message notification greeting you on your lockscreen.

baby: outside :)

you: be right there :)

You chuck the controller to Felix, and he jumps in surprise. “You can play now, I need to go get someone,” you state simply, but the grin on your face seems to give you away.

A single “huh?” escapes Felix’s mouth as the other two boys watch you with curious eyes. Not letting their gaze disturb you, you head to Jisung’s front door.

You open it swiftly to be met with your fairly new boyfriend, Heeseung. you met him after starting college this past semester through a mutual friend, and have been dating for around two months now. you don’t remember what drew you to him in the first place, but one thing is clear—he’s so damn cute.

Your cheeks heat up quickly at the sight of him. His fluffy brown hair was hidden underneath a hat and the bits of his fringe that did stick out fell against his forehead.

“Hey.” you smile, taking a step towards him.

“Hi,” he responds, wrapping his arms around your waist which you reciprocate. “Sorry I’m late.”

“All good,” you hum into his shoulder. “All the boys are here. I’d say they’re not crazy, but I’d be lying.”

You feel Heeseung’s chuckle vibrate through you. “It's fine, you’ve met my friends, how much worse can they be?”

Pulling away slightly so you could look at him, you push your lips into a thin line and feign a concerned look.

“Eh, they’re something, alright,” you drop the fake look, chuckling.

“They finally have those snacks downstairs~!”

Jisung swings the door open, prompting you to turn around. He’s beaming and there’s a bounce in his step as a bag of chips sways in his hand, but it all dissipates into an inquisitive, perhaps even nosy, stance once he sees the boy whose arms are wrapped around you.

“Who's this?” The chestnut-haired boy tilts his head, his eyebrows drawn together.

You can’t help the smile that adorns your face. “Jisung, this is Heeseung, my boyfriend.”

You gesture one hand towards Heeseung himself, and you grin wider as he pulls you closer, nuzzling your nose against his shoulder. When you settle your head against his chest, you look back at Jisung and his jaw is practically on the floor.

“Boyfriend?!”

Oh boy.

Heeseung chuckles again, shyly this time. He glances down at you, unsure of what to say, and you take that as your cue to do most of the talking.

“Yeah?” you affirm with a nod, but your statement sounds more like a question. “Is… is that bad?”

Jisung, still in a shocked state, opens and closes his mouth like a fish. He brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. “Oh, no, of course not! I’m happy that you’re happy, it’s just…”

Heeseung cocks an eyebrow at the older boy. “It’s just…?” He repeats, trailing off at the end like Jisung did.

You want so desperately to pretend you don’t know what Jisung meant by that last bit, but the fact that you catch three heads peeking from around Jisung’s bed only seems to prove your suspicions correct. Looks like Seungmin wasn’t exaggerating when he mentioned that “Jisung has told us so much about you!” when you met him and the others an hour ago. From the way Jisung glances fervently between you and the door, though, it’s safe to assume the majority of what he said involved Jeongin in some context.

Maybe you should’ve told them ahead of time the “plus one” you were bringing to the Christmas hangout was, in fact, your boyfriend. In hindsight, it was foolish of you to assume they’d get the memo from the mere mention of “plus one.” And by someone, you meant Jisung—the main man on the “Y/Ninnie train”, as he liked to call it.

Funny enough, you were just following his advice from that winter formal back in high school: date and move on. Sure, it was three years too late, and there wasn’t anything in particular that you needed to move on from, but advice is advice.

Still, you send the flustered boy a stern glare. You were not getting Heeseung involved in his shenanigans if it’s the last thing you do.

But you notice Jeongin stumble in the room, bag of gummy bears in hand, and Jisung’s eyes grow wide. Your voice nearly strangles, but you quickly snap out of it before Heeseung can notice.

“And this is Jeongin,” you gesture to the hooded boy, “my best friend.”

You don’t notice the way Jeongin’s smile falls slightly as his eyes land on you, though your eyes trail after him as he wordlessly shuffles past you two and plops on Jisung’s bed.

Jisung seems to recompose himself, and he steps closer to you and Heeseung, holding out a hand. “Heh, I’m sorry about that,” he laughs nervously, but Heeseung smiles curtly and shakes his hand. “Make yourself at home, we’re happy to have you here.”

“No worries, man.”

Jisung leaves you two alone, but you don’t miss the look he gives Jeongin. It’s full of concern, and you can’t pinpoint why.

Blinking, you shake off the sinking feeling in your chest, and take Heeseung’s hand as you two move to a spot on the floor by Seungmin’s feet, as the bed was all occupied.

Heeseung snakes his arm around your shoulders as you both focus on the tiny console screen. Felix and Hyunjin were on their last lap of Cheep Cheep Beach, neck-in-neck with each other, and you both chuckle at the boys’ chaotic screams as they pass each other back and forth.

You notice throughout the evening that Jeongin will occasionally meet your gaze when you glance his way. Each time, he opens his mouth to speak and there’s this look pooling in his eyes—some mix of longing but urgency that you can’t sense the reason behind. Regardless, your chest tightens at the sight.

You observe Jeongin whisper something to Jisung, ignoring and trying to filter out the screams of the other three boys as they argue over who gets to be Yoshi, but it’s no use.

“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks softly, the hand around your shoulders gently rubbing your arm.

You gulp but nod, not taking your eyes off of Jeongin but leaning into Heeseung’s side. “Yeah.”

An hour or so passes, and it seems like the awkward glances have only increased in frequency—not just from Jeongin, but between the other boys, too. It eats at you inside not knowing why. All you have gathered so far is that it definitely involves you and Jeongin.

“Hey, Heeseung, is it?'' Felix suddenly pipes up. Both you and Heeseung look up to his spot in the middle of Jisung’s bed, his legs criss-cross applesauce.

“What’s up?” Heeseung responds.

Felix smiles and hands Heeseung his Switch controller. “Wanna play a round? You haven’t had a turn yet.”

A smile of Heeseung’s own forms on his face as he takes the controller in his hands, slowly moving his arm from your shoulders as he hops on the bed. “Oh, bet!”

You’re happy to watch your boyfriend get along with Jisung’s friends as if they were your own—in a way, they kind of are. But one look at Jeongin and all that comes crashing down, seeing the longing look in his eyes.

You still don’t know what’s wrong. Is it because of Heeseung? Does he have some unspoken beef with him? If so, why were all his gazes targeted at you and not him?

Jeongin looks back at Jisung hopelessly, and you attempt to eavesdrop as they whisper amongst themselves. Again, the other boys in the room are too loud for you to get anything useful.

That is, until you glance back at the screen as Seungmin and Heeseung go head-to-head on Rainbow Road, and Jisung scolds Jeongin out of the blue—probably louder than he intended to.

“You need to tell Y/N. Now.”

Your head snaps their direction. Your gaze lands on Jisung for speaking so loud, but slowly shifts to Jeongin. The other boys seem to fall silent, too.

“Tell me what?”

You’re already driving yourself crazy trying to figure it out. All you want is an answer.

Jeongin sighs and sits next to you on the floor. You carefully follow his movements with your eyes. He clasps his hands together, resting them on top of his knee. He opens his mouth to speak, and you nod expectantly.

And… nothing.

After a minute of strangled silence, Jeongin sighs in defeat and drags his feet as he shuffles back to Jisung. The older boy gives him a look you can’t quite read and quietly scolds him some more. The other boys just exchange glances with each other and continue to play Mario Kart quietly, making for the worst awkward silence of your life. So much for your first college hangout.

At least you’re able to pick up some information now. You can barely hear Jisung and Jeongin’s hushed whispers even though the room is largely silent, but you do hear the word “college” over and over.

You guess it makes sense. After months of patiently waiting during your senior year of high school, you remembered Jeongin’s dispirited form when he found out he had been waitlisted for his top choice school. Following that, he’s been going to the state university in your city with you, but he mentioned something offhand about re-applying for the spring semester. Maybe he’s stressed about that, but it seems like Jisung has it covered for now.

Still, they both look over at you with those concerned, longing stares, and it’s not hard to miss.

Even after you get another turn on the Switch, you’re still left with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach by the end of the night. Yes, you won another cup and got your sweet, sweet revenge on Hyunjin for earlier, but it does nothing to tell you why Jeongin hasn’t spoken a word to you all night. Well, he tried to, but look how well that went.

It seemed like everyone around you knew except, well, you. You hate that feeling, but at least, whatever it was, Heeseung wasn’t involved. He doesn’t need to be thrown in whatever drama had concocted under your nose, especially not during his first time meeting them all.

By the time the boys start heading out, with Jeongin being the first to go, you’re practically squirming in your spot. You can’t take this anymore.

You give Heeseung a goodbye peck as he slips his coat on and leaves the dorm. “Thanks for inviting me, I had a great time.”

You smile. “I’m glad. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Heeseung nods, leaning down to kiss your cheek once more before exiting the dorm. That left just you and Jisung, and you turn towards the wide-eyed boy the second the door clicks shut.

“Okay, what is going on?” You don’t mean to snap, but your pent-up emotions get the better of you as you storm toward Jisung. “You and Jeongin have been acting weird all night. Actually, all of you have! What the hell, Jisung!”

“Y/N—” Jisung tries to speak, but you cut him off quickly.

“Was it Heeseung? He didn’t even do anything wrong, he was the quietest one here besides Jeongin!”

“Y/N—”

“And you think I’m not gonna notice you and my best friend staring at me like you two just did?” You stop to take a breath, and you feel heat rush to your ears the more you think about this. “How do you think Heeseung felt?! Is this some kind of sick joke?”

“Y/N, listen.”

Jisung’s soft voice makes you step back. It’s the same tone he gave you in the school parking lot when you were sixteen.

“Jeongin got into the school he wanted for spring semester. He’s been trying to tell you for weeks, he— he just didn’t know how. He leaves tomorrow morning.”

You freeze, and your heart sinks to your stomach. It’s like everything around you comes to a stand-still and the world goes deathly silent. All your attempts to speak go unheard as all you do is open and close your mouth, unable to formulate a sentence, let alone a single thought.

A long list of questions fly through your mind at rapid speed. Why didn’t he say something? Why didn’t you push him to say something? Why did he not want to tell you when Heeseung was there? Why couldn’t you have just stayed with him instead?

“What?”

You feel Jisung gently place a hand on your shoulder as he frowns. He pulls you in close and wraps his arms around your shoulders. That's when you notice tiny dots dampening his shirt and you finally realize you’re crying.

[go to part two HERE]

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etherealising · 1 year

Note

sweetheart. this isn’t gonna be the nicest message and I do not intend for this to come off as being a hater; but as a fellow author, I felt this obligation to voice what I’ve seen that might be considered “cringe”.

i was highly, highly, HIGHLY invested in your Carmy Berzatto “all i ever knew, only you” series, but frustratingly lost complete interest by your erratic postings and timeline. like having “interludes” instead of just chapters? it’s outstandingly confusing. if you want to write a flashback, just do it with confidence, but your organization of your fic is frustrating to read. you’re not a terrible writer, on the contrary - I think you’re very good. like VERY good.

however, you lose yourself in an avalanche of details. you try W A Y too hard to foreshadow and allude to certain details, but you just confuse yourself and end up “putting your foot in your mouth”.

author to author, it helps TEN FOLD to pause and reread; to reedit. fuck a publishing timeline, fuck the followers that pressure you into posting, just make sure your story makes sense in a chronological order - cause the story’s whiplash was a turn off.

and I know, I know, what’s one reader to a plethora of others? i just felt the obligation to say that while it has the potential to be a GREAT story (that you keep incredibly expanding and deepening), it is wildly confusing in terms of your “timeline”.

my best wishes, support, and eagerness to see what else you might publish! and my apologies if I came off too harsh or rude - I’d simply love to see fellow authors expand on their craft!

not angry just dejected, take this response how you want i do not care : )

please do not refer to me as sweetheart. no matter how many times you explain that this isn’t a bash or negative feedback, calling me ‘sweetheart’ implies that you’re being condescending : )

first off [aiekoy] was not supposed to be a full fledged chaptered fic, so please writing gods forgive me for the utmost heinous act of writing and figuring things out as i go.

i can understand your “critique”, but you failed to explain how duel timeline in a story is “cringe” … i’m confused??

i’m sure you’ve read a mainstream book with the duel timeline trope, that’s exactly what this is. you’re implication that i’m cringy and not confident is such a fuck you to me because regardless of your intentions with this message it’s not coming across the way you intended.

my interludes are not a “confidence” thing, if I didn’t have confidence this fic wouldn’t have seen the light of day : )

imagine telling someone writing FOR FREE that their idea is “cringy” and a “confidence” issue??? i’m sure you can understand why i might come across a bit annoyed : )

i don’t try way too hard to fucking do anything, i just WRITE. i would honestly love to see where i “put my foot in my mouth” because i genuinely don’t see it. and that’s fine because it’s my writing and i’m constantly going over this shit ALONE so of course i’m not gonna catch every little detail that make people tick.

i am not getting paid to write this story. i am not getting paid to edit this story. i am writing this story because i had an idea and felt like sharing it because why fucking not. fan fiction does not and will not always be the best piece of literature/fiction you have ever interacted with and thats okay.

if you have fuck all time to edit, re-edit, draft, re-draft, and have a beta editor then i applaud you. but i have responsibilities outside of fanfiction so if something isn’t up to YOUR standards it’s not MY highest priority.

you also say “fuck a publishing timeline, fuck the followers that pressure you into posting,” but in the same breath explain that YOU quit reading because of my “erratic postings” and timeline. maybe i’m just not understanding it but it comes across a bit contradictory.

please understand that if my timeline is confusing, it’s because the bear’s canon timeline is confusing and contradictory as fuck. i’m literally doing somebody else’s job by trying to make this timeline make fucking sense.

don’t know who bestowed upon you this “obligation” you speak of but it was not i sis : )

to whoever this anon is i hope you can understand my defensiveness as i DID NOT ASK for this critique and obviously i’m going to be defensive this is MY work. and please if my response rubs you the wrong way please do not chime back into my inbox yapping off at the mouth that i’m a “bitch who can’t take critiques”

because i actually can but your critiques are UNSOLICITED for one and it just came across extremely pretentious (at least it read that way to me).

i probably would’ve had a much better reaction to your “help” if you had given me examples and explained a bit better your point of view, but you didn’t so i don’t, sucks to suck : (

have a great rest of your day, hope your journey as a writer continues going swell : )

#this is the exact reason i didn’t want to post on this hellsite #besties please this is FREE fucking fan fiction #i am not a paid author #stop fucking expecting perfection from overworked #over tired college students #who are just trying to provide escapism #[aiekoy] asks #vee answers °•. ✿ .•°#all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

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novastories · 2 years

Text

At The Beginning

Title and chapter was inspired by the song “At The Beginning” by Richard Marx & Donna Lewis.

Summary: Aurora’s story has to start somewhere! This is just the beginning.

Disclaimer: This story is fictitious. All works are written by me and only posted here. Please do not copy, repost, or plagiarize on any other platform without my permission!

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Timeline and ages are changed to fit the story. This is my first work so please be nice! Shoutout to my beta reader and editor @reginleight!

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Pete “Maverick” Mitchell had a secret not many people knew. His on-again-off-again relationship with Penny Benjamin became real when Penny became pregnant and gave birth to twins. A boy and a girl.

The girl was named Aurora and the boy, Peyton. Both had dark brown hair and brown eyes, despite both their parents having green eyes. The only one who really knew about his children was his best friend, Goose, and Goose’s wife, Carole. Goose and Carole were so excited that Maverick had children and was instantly named godparents to both twins.

Maverick loved his children the moment he laid eyes on them, but because he was gone on deployment often, the twins lived with Penny. Today was the day Mav was introducing the twins to not only Charlie, but to Bradley Bradshaw as well. Bradley being eight years old still had yet to meet the twins since Penny lived in San Diego and Bradley and Carole in Virginia.

That day, Mav was going to pick them up on the way to the restaurant where he was meeting Charlie, Goose, Carole, and Bradley, as Carole and Bradley just landed that morning.

“Daddy!” Two voices shouted as he got off his bike that he had parked in the driveway of Penny’s house. He looks up and sees the source of the voices, his four-year-olds running out the front door and into his awaiting arms.

Maverick immediately scooped them both into a hug and proceeded to pepper kisses across their faces, earning excited squeals from his kids. The sight of the three of them together was the very picture of a happy, and long anticipated reunion.

“You know you’re not letting them ride on that death trap Pete,” a voice called out. He looked up and standing against the front door frame was Penny. She softly smiled, but also had a look on her face that meant she was serious about what she had said. Pete put the twins down and went to hug Penny.

“It’s good to see you too, Pen.” Wrapping her in a hug, Penny was the first to pull away and fix him with a stern look.

“Pete,” she warned.

“Okay, okay I won’t take them on the bike,” glancing back towards said beloved ride, Maverick quickly turned his gaze back to Penny with a slight tilt of his head.

“I’m guessing it’s okay to borrow your car while I take them for the day then?” Maverick asked, forgetting he should have asked Goose to borrow his truck at least.

“Yeah that’s fine.” Penny agreed. “How has Top Gun been treating you?”

“Great, I am the best at what I do,” Pete smirks at Penny, causing her to roll her eyes but the smile on her face is still undeniably fond.

“Uh huh, well please remember that they actually have a curfew at 7pm, and that’s not a suggestion,” Penny said as she looked over to the twins, Maverick following her line of sight and seeing Peyton chasing Aurora with a toy plane that Maverick himself gave to him a while ago.

“I’ll make sure they’re home on time Pen, don’t worry. I’m just excited that they’ll be meeting Bradley for the first time. It’s really been long overdue,” Maverick mused watching the twins play. They were running around so much it’s almost like they both forgot that they were going to spend the day with their dad.

“And of course, the woman you’ve been seeing right? One of your instructors at Top Gun?”

Maverick’s eyes blew comically wide when he heard those words.“How did you-”

Amused by his reaction, Penny continued.“Carole and I speak on the phone from time to time. She mentioned in passing about what Goose had told her, which in turn she then told me.” She paused briefly, the smile on her face softening just a tad with her next words. “I’m okay with the twins meeting her. She seems nice from what Carole told me. You know you didn’t have to hide that from me.”

“It wasn’t that I was trying to hide it from you. I just…I guess I was nervous. I mean are the twins okay with meeting another woman? Are you okay that they’re going to be meeting another person in their life? I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or feel like you’re being replaced.” Maverick rushed to say, leaving Penny a bit shocked.

She was not used to seeing a nervous Maverick, only recalling one time before and that had been when she’d told him he was going to be a father. Maverick definitely wasn’t one to doubt himself, normally confident in everything he did. Especially when it came to flying.

She laughs softly, “Pete, I’m okay with it. The twins will be fine, I think they’ll be more excited about meeting Bradley than your instructor, but from what Carole has told me you have nothing to worry about. And they understand that we’re not together so introducing them to someone else they should be fine with.” This had been explained to Aurora and Peyton some time ago, so of course they understood now. “Besides,” she grinned, “it’s hard not to fall in love with the twins.”

They both turned just in time to see Aurora now had the plane and was chasing Peyton with it. It brought a laugh from the both of them before Pete realized it was probably time to take them to meet the others. “Aurora, Peyton, it’s time to go! Unless you don’t feel like seeing Uncle Goose and Aunt Carole.” Pete calls out to them. At the mention of their godparents, that got both twins to pause before they started to run back to their parents in excitement. With both kids back and eager to go, Aurora and Peyton were quickly strapped into their car seats as Penny made sure to give them both kisses and to ‘behave for their dad’. Once both the twins were secured, she closed the door and gave the car keys to Maverick.

“7pm Pete, don’t forget it.” Penny told Maverick as she gave him a serious look.

“I won’t forget Pen, have a little faith in me.” Maverick replied as he got in the car.

Penny softly smiled as she waved them all goodbye, Maverick backing out of the driveway and heading to the restaurant where he and Goose both agreed to meet.

80s music played softly in the background of the car on their way there. Both the twins kept talking about their day and how excited they were to see their godparents during the car ride. Maverick had also told them that they would be meeting Bradley and another friend of his, both siblings excited to meet new people either way.

Once they’d arrived, Maverick parked in front of the restaurant right next to Goose’s truck when he spotted it. Charlie’s car was yet to be seen, but he knew she would be on the way.

Getting out of the car, Maverick helped both the twins out of their car seats before proceeding into the restaurant hand in hand with them when he heard Goose on the piano. He chuckled as the duo let go of his hands, running to Goose.

“Uncle Goose!” They both screamed hearing their uncle on the piano.

“My favorite twins!” Goose yells back as he gets off the piano bench and bends down to scoop them into his arms.

“They’re the only twins you know of Goose,” Maverick states, walking up to give Goose a hug as well.

“Shhh they don’t have to know that,” Goose replies as the twins giggles at their uncle’s antics.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about your favorite aunt?” a voice calls out to them. They all turn around and see Carole sitting at a table with Bradley right next to her, coloring. She waves and the twins squirm in their uncle’s arms, signaling him to set them down.

“Auntie Carole!” Peyton yells out running to give their aunt a hug as she stepped out of her seat, Aurora following right behind him.

“We could never forget you!” Aurora exclaims running into her aunt’s arms. She looks up and smiles at her aunt, having always adored Carole just as much as she does her mom. After greeting her god-daughter, Carole stood up and hugged Maverick, even though they just saw him a couple of hours ago.

Aurora then peaked over and saw the boy she knew her mom and dad had talked about. He was busy coloring and wore Goose’s hat that was a bit big on him.

Carole, now noticing the twins were looking at her son timidly, smiled at them and whispered, “Don’t go shy on me now. Bradley doesn’t bite.”

“Anymore,” Goose whispered to Maverick. Maverick chuckled as Carole slapped Goose on the arm and the twins laughed along with their antics.

“Bradley, come say hi to Uncle Mav’s kids,” Carole called out to her son. Bradley set down his crayon and slipped out of his seat and walked over to them. The young boy looked at the twins and put his hand out.

“I’m Bradley,” he said, “I’m eight.”

Peyton, being a little bit more outspoken between the both of them, took Bradley’s hand into his own and shook it.

“I’m Peyton, this is Aurora, my sister.” he replied, gesturing to his sister, who hid behind Peyton as soon as Bradley approached.

Aurora timidly stepped aside and gave Bradley a wave. Bradley gave Aurora a smile and put out his hand to her as well, and just as Aurora gave her hand to shake, he instead leaned over and gave the hand a kiss. Aurora turned red as the adults chuckled behind her.

“Well Goose, looks like your son is following in your footsteps,” Maverick mumbled to Goose as he realized the amount of boys he would have to keep away from his little girl. Goose merely smiled at the interaction between the kids.

“I saw in princess movies that’s what you do when you see a pretty girl. Mom said it’s the proper thing to do,” Bradley said with a smile as he let go of Aurora’s hand. Aurora, still speechless, just nodded, not knowing what to say.

Goose, Carole and Maverick then helped the kids back to the table, and just as they were seated, Charlie walked in. Almost immediately noticing them she began approaching their table with a smile.

Maverick then started introducing her to Carole who Carole already takes a liking to.

After introducing those two he began looking for his kids to introduce next but found them already occupied with coloring. Bradley was sat next to Aurora, and Peyton on her other side.

“Kids, this is my friend Charlie, can you say hi?” Maverick asked. The boys looked up and waved and went back to coloring. Aurora on the other hand, even though being four, had better manners than that. She gestured for her brother to move so she could properly greet her dad’s friend.

“Hello,” Aurora spoke softly.

Charlie leaned down to speak at Aurora’s level.“Well hi there. You know your dad has told me all about you.” She says.

“He has?” Aurora asks. Charlie nods.

“He talks about you all the time, says you and your brother are the best things that happened to him.”

“Even more than flying?” Aurora asks, looking at her dad. Maverick smiled and gave Aurora a big hug.

“Even more than flying.” He assured her. Aurora smiles and says thank you to Charlie as she runs back to the comfort of her brother and her new friend. Bradley gives her a hand and helps her back up in her seat. The adults then got themselves reseated, this time including Charlie and began ordering food and drinks around the table.

Time passes by and after the meals and drinks are finished, Goose has found his way back to the piano, the coloring abandoned on the table as Bradley and Aurora sat on top of the piano hand in hand, and Peyton sat next to Goose.

Immediately, a familiar song favorite of a certain group can be heard around the restaurant from where Goose plays.

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will, oh what a thrill

Goodness gracious great balls of fire!

Goose sings out with Bradley joining in on the smaller phrases of the song. Aurora and Peyton, not knowing the song, giggles at their antics. Maverick, Carole, and Charlie laugh watching them.

“Maverick, will you go fetch him,” Carole begged jokingly. “Doesn’t he ever embarrass you?”

“Goose, hell no,” Maverick replies. “Well there was the time-”

“Admiral’s daughter, mother to your two children over there?” Carole teasingly interrupts him.

“What?” he responded, shocked.

“He told me all about the time you went ballistic with Penny Benjamin. And you know I talk to Penny from time to time.” she teased. She looks back at Goose and the kids.

“Did he? Well that’s great” Exasperated, Pete was still a little hung up on the fact that Goose tells Carole these things.

“He tells me about all of them, Maverick. How my little angel Goose goes home early for church, and you always go home with the hot women.” Carole stated. Maverick laughs uncomfortably while Charlie laughs on the side. Carole then looks and gestures to the duo on top of the piano holding hands.

“How long do you think it will take for those two to fall in love?”

“Oh no. No way,” Maverick stated. He loved Bradley, but he did not want to think about his daughter already dating.

“Oh, come on Maverick, look at them.” Charlie added as they all stared at them. Aurora had gotten out of her shell as soon as she realized she was safe with Bradley, who beside her looked at Aurora and smiled, continuing to sing along with his dad.

“I bet by high school they’ll get together,” Carole says lovingly. Charlie nodded in agreement.

“Alright, thank you Carole.” Maverick interrupts her and gets up from his seat.

“I’m going to go and embarrass myself with Goose for a while.” He smirks at Charlie and leaves to join the kids and Goose at the piano.

Maverick in that moment, feeling a bit protective over his little girl, picks up Aurora into his arms, yanking her’s and Bradley’s hands apart from each other. The women laugh at Mavericks antics.

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will, but what a thrill

Leaning in towards one another, with a flair for dramatics Goose and Maverick then belted out the chorus line of the song together with their children.

Goodness gracious great balls of fire!

While the boys and kids went on with their dramatic rendition of “Great Balls of Fire”, Carole and Charlie talked about Maverick and how he is now officially off the market because of Charlie.

“He’s one hundred percent prime time in love with you. He wouldn’t have introduced you to the twins if he didn’t. They’re his whole world. He’d give up flying in a heartbeat for them.” Carole admitted to Charlie. They look over to the men and children at the piano.

“Hey Goose ya big stud,” Carole yelled out.

“That’s me honey,” replied Goose.

“Take me to bed or lose me forever!”

Goose instantly turned around to look at Carole.

“Show me the way home honey!”

Carole and Charlie get up to join them at the piano as Maverick reluctantly sets Aurora back down next to Bradley and takes Peyton in his arms.

Bradley instantly finds Aurora’s hand again, gives it a quick kiss before holding it tightly next to him. Aurora giggles at the gesture, while Maverick gives the kid a warning look. Peyton laughs while Charlie wraps her arm around Maverick and Carole sits on Goose’s lap.

“C’mon everyone, let’s sing with the family.” Goose calls out.

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will, but what a thrill

“Goodness gracious great balls of fire!” They all sing out for the last time.

Soon after, everyone began to head out of the restaurant after paying for their dinner. Goose and Maverick were arguing about who pays while the women made sure the kids were doing okay. Bradley and Aurora were still holding hands, Aurora also holding onto her brother’s hand. The trio were giggling as if they had been friends their whole lives.

“Alright kids, it’s time I took you home back to your mom’s,” Mav announced to the twins. The twins realizing that they had to leave, meant they had to say goodbye to their new friend, as well as their aunt and uncle.

Solemnly nodding, they give goodbye hugs to their aunt and uncle. Aurora giggled as Goose said that he was taking her away to live with them, Carole rolling her eyes at her husband’s antics and as soon as Goose put her down, Bradley then yanks her into a hug. Aurora smiles realizing how comforting it is to be in his arms and pulls back when Bradley starts to say something.

“We can send each other letters, and our moms call each other so that means we can talk to each other too!” Bradley said excitedly to the twins.

The twins were happy to know that the friend they had made today was not temporary. They both said goodbyes to Charlie as well and Maverick put them in their car seats, with Goose helping him. Maverick tells Goose he will see him at training, bids a goodnight to Carole and Bradley, and tells Charlie he will meet with her later after dropping off the kids.

With goodbyes exchanged, Maverick and the twins then began exiting the parking lot to start the trek back home.

Maverick looks back and sees that the excitement wore off, and the twins were already tired, falling asleep. Finally making it back to Penny’s house, Maverick tells the twins to wake up, only to get groans in reply, neither moving from their seat. He chuckles as he gets out of the car and sees Penny has been reading on her porch chair waiting for them to come home. She puts the book down and helps Maverick with getting the kids out of the car.

“Wow you really tired them out Pete. What did you do? Strap them in an F-14 until they stopped screaming with excitement” Penny teasingly asked him, as they set the children down into their beds after changing their clothes. Maverick laughed.

“No, Goose tired them out with his singing. Also, I think they made a new friend. Bradley was quite the charmer with Aurora.” Maverick remarked. Penny looked over at Maverick.

“Really?” Penny questioned as if she couldn’t believe her shy daughter took to Bradley so quickly.

“Yep,” Maverick replied, “Goose took a picture to prove it.” He took out a photo of Bradley, Aurora, and Peyton sitting next to each other at dinner, and another photo of Bradley and Aurora holding hands on top of the piano.

“Aww that’s so adorable. I’m surprised Bradley was able to get her out of her shell. Peyton I get, but Aurora has had a tough time with other people,” Penny explained.

“Yeah well I think she was sold as soon as Bradley kissed her hand,” Maverick teasingly replied. Penny laughed.

“Well you got some competition there. Carole and I have a bet going on when they’re getting together. She says high school, I say after college. You should probably save those pictures for their wedding,” Penny giggled leaving the twins room.

“What? Penny what do you mean wedding? There will be no wedding!” Maverick silently shouted as she left. He turned to the twins and sighed. He hated this part, leaving them. But he knew he would be back soon. He leaned down and kissed Peyton’s forehead.

“Good night sweet Peyton.” Tucking him into his blanket.

He turned and saw Aurora was still holding on to the coloring page she and Bradley both colored, and he pried it out of her hands and set it down on her nightstand. He then proceeded to tuck Aurora in, and place a kiss on her forehead.

“Good night princess.” whispered Maverick. “Sweet dreams.”

As if Aurora heard him, she indeed had sweet dreams that night, as that day was the start of a journey she was ready to embark on.

---

If you would like to be on the taglist or removed, please let me know!

Taglist: @call-sign-jinx

#top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw fic #dad!maverick #mom!pennybenjamin #top gun au #shrimp writes stories #I’ll Be Waiting Story

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superblysubpar · 11 months

Text

we'll call it love masterlist

Hey, thanks for being here - whether you binged the series or have been here the whole year or you're literally just reading this and don't care to read the series. I know it's a little (okay a lot) cheesy to make a whole post saying thank you for a silly little fanfic but I've had a tough year, and I didn't want to make the post longer and well, here we are. Don't read it if you don't want to or you think it's cringe.

I wrote the "Rocketman is Dingus. Dingus is Steve. Steve is Rocketman" scene on November 25th, 2022 in the back of my mother in law's car while shopping. I had no real vision other than Friends With Benefits, modern AU, use the songs off of the Uncanny Valley album by COIN, reader hates love and duh - Steve falls in love with everything that moves. Over the course of basically an entire fucking year, a short, 4 "parts" "minseries" turned into this. This lovely, wonderful, infuriating most days, pain in my ass series that I'm going to cherish for the rest of my life. I learned and discovered so much about writing and about myself while creating it. We're truly almost at a year, and originally, when this idea came to me, I was back on my old blog and I just can't even express to you how crazy it is to know the notes I got on first fics to this journey to the new blog and this series...I feel like I can't say thank you enough or express how crazy it is to me and how truly grateful I am. While writing this I was thoroughly broken down to just a sobbing mess multiple times by comments, messages, and love left for the story - I have your messages saved, and they mean more to me than you could ever know. I made new friends while writing it, I daydreamed about these fucking idiots while on my first international trip, I'm chasing crazy dreams and it's truly all because of this story and you guys. All because of your patience and encouragement as I strung you along for almost an entire year just for a silly little fanifc.

A special and specific thank you to @sweetsweetjellybean I love you I love you I love yoouuuu and I know this was a way bigger commitment than either of us foresaw when I asked you to beta for me. Hours, days, and months of friendship and encouragement can't be acknowledged with a simple thank you, but it's the best I got. And another special thank you to @loveshotzz who not only is also an avid supporter, editor, and encourager, but gave me all the Chicago daydreams and sightseeing tour that literally is at the heart of this entire series. Red Hot Ranch idiots, Steve's apartment, Replay, the train, and many more things wouldn't exist without her.

Thank you for your endless support, for literally taking my hands and dragging me across the finish line, I don't deserve either of you 💛

thank you all for your constant patience, encouragement, and love. And thank you for letting me tell Rocketman and Y/N's story 💛

#we'll call it love

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miyamiwu · 2 years

Text

An Honest Guide to Tumblr for Twitter Refugees (Part 2)

Part 0: What the heck is Tumblr and is it right for me?

Part 1: Configuring settings + customizing your Tumblr

Covered in Part 2:

Posting basics (introducing the editor, different post types)

Best practices (stating trigger warnings, adding image IDs, indicating sources, etc)

Post controls (who can reblog and reply to your posts)

Note: Like Part 1, I suggest you follow this guide while on desktop Tumblr. This post also contains lots of images without ID. Such images though are basically just screenshots of what's already described in the post body.

Posting Basics

I was gonna talk about curating your dashboard first, but considering how Tumblr veterans would think you’re a bot and just block you if they see your blog is empty, I think it’s best if we cover posting first.

Tumblr Editor

Before everything else, let’s get to know the editor.

On your desktop dashboard, you get to pick from different post types: Text, Photo, Quote, Link, Chat, Audio, and Video.

It should be pretty self-explanatory what they do, but you know what? THESE DON’T MATTER.

I talked about this briefly in Part 1, so lemme just copy-paste it here:

Although Tumblr is still advocating its different posts types (text, image, audio, video, etc.), they’ve actually been rolling out changes to their editor where only a single post type is used (text) and you just add media to it. This is called NPF (Neue Post Format). On desktop, you can turn off the beta editor and thereby turn off NPF. However, on mobile web and on the app, posts can only be made in NPF.

To put it simply: There is no difference at all between the different post types. The only difference is that when you click on a post type (for example, photo), the first block* on your post will be related to that post type (e.g. a photo block).

* If you’ve used WordPress before, then this should be familiar. But if not, then here’s a quick explanation: A block is basically a component used to create a post (text block for text, image block for images, video block for videos, etc.)

More technical info about the block editor and how to use it can be found here.

So my point is, don’t sweat too much over the different post types.

---

You can also write posts in HTML / Markdown!

If the default rich text editor is not enough for you, then get more power by using the HTML editor. It doesn't support all HTML elements, but at least you can do fancy stuff like adding some gradient text:

gradients are cool

To switch editors, click on the gear icon at the top of the editor, and in the Text Editor dropdown, choose between Rich Text, HTML, or Markdown. If you’re curious about Markdown, learn more about it here.

---

Some neat stuff you have to know about posting on Tumblr:

A. YOU CAN EDIT POSTS!!!

We’ve had an edit button here for years, and best of all, it’s free! However, for posts of yours that have been reblogged, even if you do edit the original post, the edits won’t be reflected on the reblogged version. More about reblogging in Part 4 of this guide.

B. You can post loooong articles here

Like Twitter, Tumblr also has a character limit for text. However, this limit is on a per-paragraph basis and not for your entire post. And it’s such a generous limit that I’ve never once hit it. I don’t even have to keep tabs on how many characters I’ve made. You can find a list of all the limits you have to keep in mind when using the NPF/beta editor at the bottom of this article.

C. You can save drafts and schedule posts

If you can’t finish that post right now, no worries. Just save it to your drafts first and finish it later. Or, if you’ve prepared a cool post for New Year even though it’s still November, just schedule that post to publish on a New Year. More about queue/scheduling in Part 4 of this guide.

---

Best Practices

I don’t think I need to do a step-by-step on how to use the editor because it’s pretty intuitive, so let’s talk about best practices when it comes to posting.

On stating trigger/content Warnings

In Twitter, you do this:

// tw: r*pe, g*re, m*utilation . . . . [actual triggering content]

Please don’t do this.

First of all, here on Tumblr, we do not censor out those “problematic” words. You have to spell them out so that people who have such words filtered in their settings will actually not see them. Getting content filters to work will be a pain if people have to keep in mind all variations of rape (r*ape, r@pe, r4pe, etc).

Second, those multiple dots don’t do anything. Instead, utilize the “Read More” block. This block will hide everything that comes after it under a “Keep Reading” link.

On desktop, you click on this icon that has a zigzag sandwiched between two horizontal lines:

On mobile, you do it by typing :readmore: and then hitting Enter.

(I’ll talk more about triggers/content warnings in Part 3, which will cover Tags)

Just spell everything out actually, not just trigger words

Instead of oomfs or moots, say mutals. Instead of unalive, say murder. No need to shorten or tone anything down here.

Add image ID’s

Image ID’s are basically descriptions of an image. This is important for people using screen readers. I’m guilty for not always following this, but just trust me on this.

On desktop, you hover over the image, click on the three dots that appear, and then click “Update image description.” Keep the description in simple words and state exactly what the image contains. I’m doing it for this particular image below:

On dashboard and on some themes, the image ID will be shown when you click on the ALT button that appears when you hover over the image.

Sometimes, when OP forgets to put an ID, someone will reblog the post and add the ID themselves. If you see someone doing this on one of your posts, then please be an angel and add that ID to the original post. Image descriptions will be more useful/have more impact if they’re actually part of the original post.

---

Link back to source

If you’re sharing someone else’s content from another site, please indicate the source. You can do this by adding a link to the source from within the post body itself, or by using Tumblr’s content source feature in the editor:

Click on the little gear above the editor, and in the “Content source” field, paste your link.

---

Do not repost other people’s gifs/edits

Sometimes you see a cool gif here on Tumblr that you want to use on your own post. People are generally fine with that, but you have to do it the right way.

DO NOT DO THIS: Downloading the gif and then uploading it to your own post.

Instead, DO THIS: Use Tumblr’s GIF block and search for a gif from there. Doing it this way would link back to the OP and even notify them in their Activity.

Here’s an example of how it looks:

The gif above is from my side blog, and below the image, it says “GIF by fyeahbachisagi.”

Post Controls

If you don’t want a certain post of yours to get around too much, you can disable reblogs on it. Click the gear icon at the top of the editor, and in the “Who can Reblog?” dropdown, choose from Anyone or No One.

Limits on Replies, however, is on a per-blog setting and not per post. Go to tumblr.com/settings/blog/username, and scroll all the way down until you see the setting for Replies.

---

Okay, that’s all for Part 2! Next up, in Part 3, I will talk about utilizing tags

Update: Part 3 is up! Well, kinda... Not exactly a guide catered to Twitter refugees, but still a guide to tagging:

A Guide to Tagging on Tumblr: Types of Tags

#miyamiwu.src #miyamiwu.tut

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storiesofsvu · 2 years

Note

For the fic writer 36,47, 61, and 66? Sorry for any duplicates <3

hiii.

36. how do you write kissing scenes?

it depends on the kiss first off. is it a first kiss? a quick kiss to say hello/goodbye? is it a makeout session? or is it leading into smut. the biggest thing for me is remembering if characters have anything in their hands and the level of undress, also like, if one was cooking remember to turn the burner off kinda thing. is it soft or rough? who's initiating/taking control? those kinda choices will help you figure out where hands are going, if it's going to be just lips, or are they adding in tongue/teeth too.

i dunno if that really answers the question but that's what we're going with lol

47. how many times do you revise your fic before posting?

if it's a one shot, i do a very quick once over read through once i finish writing it and then post, and that's if im feeling liek it LOL. if it's pwp i'm probably just going to post it. If it's a chapter of a series it usually takes me longer to write, i'll go through it at least once while reading through it/spell check and the like. but im not a huge editor and i don't have a beta. occasionally i'll send something off to a bestie to read to make sure it's not crap/fits with the narrative kinda thing.

61. why do you continue writing fics?

my sanity lol. i truly do enjoy it, it keeps my brain active and creative. i also want to rework some of them into original works and see what i can do with that, so continuing to write daily helps keep the rhythm going. also to bond with followers/mutuals, i love talking fandom/fic/etc with people who are the same amount obsessed, ya know? lololol

66. how do you deal with writing pressure (ie pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc).

im not gonna lie. im a lil petty about it LOL. it hasn't happened in a while now, but there were anons who would spam the inbox going "rita x reader" over and over again, or something like "whenre you gonna post casey again?" "more rollins!" and that... that does not work with me. i could've had a rita fic ready to go but just beause of that kind of demanding anon, i will wait even longer til i post it. Like, ya gotta be polite, and send in at least a prompt with a character for a req.

neg comments i generally just let slide off. I remember getting one that said i needed to write more straight couples because my characterization of all the women was horrendous anyways. like. i know that's not true. also the block button is your friend besties.

thank you for playing!!

fic writer asks!

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celestrahl · 1 year

Text

#CELESTRAHL — an independent, mutuals only and selective multimuse roleplaying blog featuring characters from various video games!

CURRENT PRIMARY MUSES: Tae Suzuya (FFVII OC), Nero (DMC), Noel Kreiss (FFXIII-2), Lunafreya Nox Fleuret (FFXV), Luis Serra (RE4R)

CURRENT SECONDARY & TERTIARY MUSES: Violet Celeste (FF OC), Élise de la Serre (ACU), Evie Frye (ACS), V (DMC), Oerba Dia Vanille (FFXIII), Serah Farron (FFXIII-2), Dion Lesage (FFXVI), Jote (FFXVI), Aqua (KH), Xion (KH), Sherry Birkin (RE6)

Written & loved by Faye, 30, she/her, CET timezone. Beta Editor only! This blog is 18+ only, minors dni!

Currently low/sporadic activity. FFVII Reno blog: @blitzrod Graphic Comm Blog: @rysingdawn

Mobile Rules can be found below the cut! ⬇

★ First off, don’t be an ass. Godmodding, infomodding, metagaming, whatever else these things are called, have no place here. Don’t kill my muses. Don’t kill any of their friends/family/allies right in front of them without discussing it first. Character ≠ Writer, I’m not my muses and if my muses are in any way mean to your muse/s doesn’t mean I’m being mean towards you. If you have criticism, please remain respectful and constructive when sending it in. Anon hate will be deleted/blocked.

★ I’m strictly interacting with mutuals only. If you followed me and I didn’t follow back I either do not know anything about your character’s fandom, find your blog lacking information and/or simply cannot see us interact. I’m also trying to keep my dash a comfortable space for myself so please don’t take it personally if I don’t follow back. But if I do follow you, I’m interested in writing with you – and I will assume the same if it’s the other way around.

★ I’m selective, or rather, my muses are – and sometimes certain muses are louder than others, and some might even take over for a bit. Please don’t get discouraged or disappointed if you see me replying to certain threads with certain muses only, or only to threads in certain genres.

★ I generally prefer writing threads over meme responses, and I love plotting. Winging it is cool too, but expect me to ask questions so I can make sure I got the setting and other things right. Either way, I normally tend to write semi-paragraph, paragraph and multi-paragraph things with the rare occasional one-liner.

★ I encourage you to turn my ask responses into threads! I always put character asks into a new post anyway, so feel free to reblog that and add your reply! No need to ask beforehand!

★ Please do not apply any fancanons to my muses, no matter how popular or widely accepted they are.

★ Relationships in all forms (romantic, platonic, familial, rivals, you name it) are welcome, however there has to be chemistry and I would like if you asked me beforehand and if we’ve written before. One-sided crushes and unrequited feelings are fine too, just don’t try to force your character on mine and we’re cool. I DO NOT AUTO-SHIP CANON ROMANCES. Please also understand that some of my muses can be difficult to bond with.

★ I will practice mains and in rare cases ship exclusives, but not affiliates or general exclusivity.

★ Duplicates/Variants are, honestly, a bit tricky for me. I’ve had both good and bad experiences with them in the past. Overall I’m trying to be indifferent towards them. I hope you understand that I’m a little hesitant regarding this!

★ I am OC friendly! How could I not be, having my own OCs on this blog? The only point where I draw the line is when it comes to OCs who are children of canon characters.

★ NSFW isn’t very likely to occur here. I will not write smut, should any thread ever go in that direction it will fade to black before anything spicy can happen. I'm not someone to write anything blood & gore related in explicit detail either.

★ Triggers will be tagged as _____ tw and _____ cw so make sure to blacklist yours this way. If you have a rather uncommon/rare trigger that you need tagged, please let me know!

★ Do not take anything from this blog. Be it icons and/or other graphics I’m using in my own posts, headcanons and/or parts of my theme code. I created/wrote/edited these things myself (for some things see credits below) and would very much appreciate it if you could just leave them be. I’ve had quite a few bad experiences with theft in the past, so this is something I feel I have to mention.

★ Lastly, hi! I go by Faye, I’m 30, she/her, from Germany. I’m honestly just a big nerd for video games and I love music, writing, graphic editing, reading and more. I just generally love being creative and am passionate about everything I create. I don’t know what else to tell you here, but if you ever wanna get to know me my IMs are always open, and my Discord is available for mutuals. If you’re reading this, I hope you have a good day!!

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awooghan · 2 years

Text

24 to 25 ✧.* y.ji (part two)

❄ PAIRING: jeongin x fem!reader

❄ GENRE: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, christmas

❄ WORD COUNT: 47.7k (part one: 25.9k; part two: 21.8k) i'm so sorry

part one | [part two]

network tags: @straykidsland

taglist: @hafsa-hoofsa-heefs @crow953 @urmomma0324 @tasmtrilogy

20.

Regardless of how desperately you wanted to enjoy Christmastime like you'd usually do, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it this year.

You had long broken up with Heeseung, and while it did hurt immensely to begin with, it still persisted as a dull ache. You’re a little bummed you couldn’t indulge in your Christmas romance fantasies this year, but you figured you’d manage. You know that wasn't everything in a relationship; it was just a bonus, especially for someone like you.

But what does feel unbearable this year had nothing to do with love or romance. All you could think about was last year and the way Jeongin had left.

It plagued your mind for weeks after that night, on whether or not you should have stayed and spent your time with Jeongin instead of bringing Heeseung to Jisung's Christmas party. Nevertheless, you had to remind yourself that you didn't know Jeongin had planned to leave that night—and no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't go back and change the past.

You couldn't tell if you resented Jeongin for what he did, or if you blame yourself for not listening to him. All the times he wanted to speak to you last year—maybe even to tell you, you just cut him off, too caught up in your new romance with Heeseung to even notice what Jeongin wanted to say.

Perhaps this was what you deserved for trying to follow Jisung’s advice when you were sixteen. “Date and move on,” he said. There was nothing to move on from, but you still tried it anyway.

And look where that got you.

Your original plan had been to stay nestled up in the comforts of your bed, watching whatever trash Hallmark had put out this year as you drank an atrocious amount of hot chocolate to comfort yourself. You were tempted to avoid Christmas plans altogether, especially when all the neighborhood party would do was remind you of Jeongin..

However, Jisung, the persistent fool that he was, wouldn't let that happen. Not when you could be watching laughable Christmas movies with him and his, and now your, friends.

Felix and Hyunjin are squished together on the loveseat in Jisung's apartment, not that Felix seemed to mind as it gave him an excuse to cuddle someone. Seungmin is positioned on the floor, his legs crossed under the coffee table as he picks away at what little snacks remained in the bowls Jisung had laid out earlier. And you were lazily stretched out across the sofa, your head in Jisung's lap. Since Jisung was the one that dragged you out of bed, he was going to have to put up with your grumpy state.

"What do we watch next?" Felix calls out as the end credits of the Elf roll across the screen. He casually scans the room for your responses, his arms wrapped loosely around Hyunjin's waist.

"The Grinch?" Seungmin suggests before Hyunjin quickly follows up with A Charlie Brown Christmas.

You pout. All of those sound good but you’d be lying if you said you were in a particular mood for any of them. It almost crushed you to say that, as they had brought you so much joy in the past, but none of them seemed to cut it this year.

A few seconds passes by and you decide to speak up, throwing in a suggestion of your own.

"Are there any Christmas animes? Why don't we watch those instead of a movie?"

A deafening silence fills the room at your suggestion. The boys exchange confused glances with each other, and you begin to wonder if you said something wrong. If there were Christmas cartoons, surely there’d be Christmas animes, right? But your thoughts are quickly cut short when you hear Jisung gasp rather loudly.

"Oh, so NOW you want to get into anime?!"

Your frown deepens and you hit Jisung's thigh with your fist. "Shut up, it was just a suggestion."

Another silence hangs in the room and the other three boys watch you silently like hawks, as if they were ready to pounce on you at the next move you’d make. You hate how small you feel under their piercing stares, and you shuffle to the other side of the couch in hopes that they’d stop.

"This isn't because you miss a certain person, is it?” Jisung chirps in a teasing tone. He crawls over to your end of the couch, a grin pulling at his lips as he pokes at your cheek repeatedly. “Is that why you're all Scrooge McDuck?"

You jerk your head away and shove his hand back, letting out a strangled groan. "Oh my god, Jeongin has nothing to do with this! and it’s Ebenezer Scrooge!"

Jisung snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. "I never said Jeongin's name."

"He got you there, just saying." Felix chimes in with a shrug.

You huffed frustratedly, spluttering, "I– this– this isn't about Jeongin, and this isn't about Heeseung either. can we just move on from this already?"

"You know it's okay to miss him, right?” Hyunjin says, his voice soft. “You’re not doing anything wrong."

"I never said that!" you groan again, raising your voice slightly. "I can’t suggest an anime because you guys assume I miss someone? Can I not do anything without you guys thinking it’s about a boy?!”

"Well, you never even mentioned anime once until now,” Seungmin points out, “the only reason you would is because of Jeongin—”

“It’s not about Jeongin!” you snap, burying your face in your hands in defeat. “God, I hate men.”

A chorus of offended ‘hey’s echo throughout the room which causes your eyes to roll.

"After all this time? after all these years, sugarplum?" Jisung gasps, his hand over his heart in feigned offense.

"Oh my god, you know what's not what I mean, Jisung," you huff, grabbing your phone from the coffee table as you stand up. "I'm going to get us more snacks, I hate this."

You carry yourself to the kitchen and from behind you, you hear Jisung call out, "But you haven't taken the bowls with you!”

Without turning back, you make a face to yourself. "I'll just get new ones," you respond blankly.

The kitchen was a break you so desperately needed. While you could still hear the boys chatting in the living room, it was just muffled enough to keep your mind at ease. you thought you could get away with Jisung not mentioning Jeongin, but maybe you had put too much faith in him.

You didn't mean it, really, but sometimes it got to be a lot.

You unlock your phone and staring back at you is a photo you knew you should have changed earlier, but something inside of you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

It was an old selfie of you and Jeongin, one you had to beg him to take in the first place a few years prior. You both had your large winter coats on and his arm hung loosely around your shoulders as you both grinned into the camera. In the picture, you had a light blush on your cheeks—presumably from the cold—but deep down you knew otherwise.

You brought up his contact. This photo was one where he isn't looking at you, but he’s still holding up a peace sign. Just the look of it and the memory of that day flashes in your mind, making you chuckle.

Clicking on the text conversation, you're met with the last text you had sent him months and months ago, the small seen tick making you frown.

I miss you... you type out the words slowly. Your thumb hovered over the send key, but you can’t bring yourself to press down.

The glassy feeling in your eyes appears and you blink the tears away rapidly as you let your finger fall on the backspace key, completely erasing the message before you lock your phone once more.

What you didn't know was in his dorm room, bundled up in blankets like a burrito was Jeongin as he hopelessly scrolled through his phone. he had stumbled across a photo of Christmas lights that reminded him of you, and it took every ounce of his being to stop himself from sending it to you, finding himself scrolling through your message history instead. How could he text you so casually after what he did? Afterjust leaving like that without so much as a proper goodbye?

He watches your typing symbol come up at the bottom, only to have it disappear moments later—leaving him just as despair-ridden as you.

21.

You lost track of how long you had been cuddling against Yeonjun’s chest as Die Hard played on the tv. You had wanted a Christmas film, an actual Christmas film, however, Yeonjun was adamant that this did, in fact, count, as it happened around Christmas day.

You gaze up at Yeonjun, your eyes lingering on his own. You smile at how much focus he has on the movie, to the point where he’s hardly blinking.

You originally knew Yeonjun from your neighborhood, which kind of makes things go full circle for you in a way. Him being an older kid, though, meant that you never had a reason to know him personally or even have a chance to talk to him. He stuck with his group, and you stuck with yours.

But in a weird twist of fate, you met again when you got a part-time job at a small family restaurant just off of your university campus. After a few awkward conversations and some catching up, you both seemed to warm up to each other and Yeonjun soon asked you out on a date… you happily said yes.

Yeonjun is amazing. He's patient with you, smiles at you like you light up the whole sky, looks after you when you feel ill, he takes you on adventures at midnight for snacks just because you mentioned you were hungry.

He’s, on paper, your dream guy. Handsome, understanding, open and caring. You like him, you really do. Yet, it always feels like something's missing—but you can never put your finger on what.

The end credits of Die Hard roll across the screen, causing you to lift your weight from off of Yeonjun and stretch your arms out around you.

“I should get home,” you yawn, causing Yeonjun to pout slightly.

He reaches out to grab your hand as he whines. “Do you have to?”

You match his pout, nodding your head slowly. “Yeah, I should get back before it snows.”

“You don’t have to,” Yeonjun muses, and you watch the corners of his mouth twitch into a hopeful smile. “You could… stay over for Christmas? What do you think?”

Your breath hitches at his words, stiffening like a board as you stare at him with wide eyes.

“Stay… over for Christmas?”

He seems to notice the hesitation in your voice, and he begins to rub gentle circles with his thumb on the back of your hand.

“Think about it,” Yeonjun continues, “waking up together on Christmas day? It would be so cute!” he grins. You could practically see the tiny hearts floating about his head.

Stay over for Christmas. He doesn't know about it, but the whole sentence makes you feel uneasy. The implications and everything they bring with them—not to mention all the memories they invoke—are too much for you to handle at that moment. Not that you’d be the first to admit it

“I— I shouldn’t,” you start, your heart hurting as Yeonjun’s lips twist into a frown. “Baby, Soobin’s here and I don’t want to make things awkward for you by intruding.”

Yeonjun sits up suddenly, his fingers linking with your own. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, plus he enjoys your company. Not as much as I do, obviously,” Yeonjun cheekily grins at his words, sending a wink your way.

You huff a laugh. “Regardless,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “I... I don’t think I feel comfortable staying here yet.” Your own frown seems to match his. “So I'd rather get back before it starts snowing.” Your shoulders drop and you focus on his fingers that are busy playing with your own. “I’m sorry.”

One of Yeonjun’s hands moves from your fingers and delicately slides against your cheek, guiding your head so you’re looking up at him. Whilst you can see hints of sadness behind his eyes, his smile is one of comfort and understanding.

“Don’t be silly.” His smile grows. “I like you and we can go as slow or quick as you want.” His hand moves from your cheek as he lightly brushes your hair out of your face. “Don’t be scared to tell me, we’ll work through it together.”

Your heart swells at his words and you lean into his touch, placing a small kiss on his palm. “You’re too sweet to me,” you mumble.

He disagrees. “No, it’s just the decent thing everyone should do, They're your boundaries, I’m not going to be an idiot and push them.”

“How did I find you?” You wonder aloud. His cheeks tint red and his smile somehow grows even wider than before.

“No, no, how did I find you?”

Your foreheads lean against one another, and you can feel his breath ever-so-slightly tickle your skin.

“Can you guys stop being disgusting now?” a voice huffs from behind you two.

You and Yeonjun jump apart from each other and you turn to see his roommate, Soobin, standing with a scowl plastered on his face, an empty cereal bowl in hand.

Yeonjun grumbles to himself, muttering ‘You're just jealous,’ as he grabs your hand, guiding you past Soobin and towards his dorm room door. At the same time, you quickly call out a goodbye to Soobin and Yeonjun sighs sadly when you both stop at his door.

He pulls you close and you can feel his body heat seeping into you. It almost, almost, makes you want to stay, as you would rather be in the warm arms of your boyfriend than face the ten-minute walk home in the cold.

“Text me when you get home?” Yeonjun asks into your shoulder and you hum in response.

“I will."

Before you pull away completely, Yeonjun places a light kiss onto the side of your lips, leaving you open to steal one right back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” this time Yeonjun is the one to hum. A small smile plays at his lips. “I love you.”

You still for a moment at his words. You should say them back—you know you should—but you just can’t. They’re on the tip of your tongue and yet you fall silent instead. You settle for stealing another kiss from him and reaffirming your words from earlier, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You can tell his smile is dripping in sadness, but you're unable to bring yourself to utter the words he so desperately wants to hear back from you. You look back and wave for a final time before you exit the hallway that leads you to the elevators and out of the building.

When you finally make your way outside, you take a deep breath; it feels almost like a huge weight has been lifted from your shoulders. The pressure of staying over with Yeonjun is gone. But now in its place is another burden you’re not ready to think about. It had started creeping into the back of your mind the moment he said those words—a reminder of times gone by. Of another boy with dark hair and eyes that sparkled and those same, fateful words.

As you walk home, you shake your head, trying to push back the tears already threatening to cloud your vision. You’ve spent too long shoving down and ignoring those feelings just to ruin everything now by bringing them back up. You aren’t ready to think about it now and, as you look up at the clear, cloudless sky, you’re not sure if you ever will be.

It did not snow that winter. Not a single flake fell from the sky.

22.

After years of not going to the neighborhood Christmas party, it feels weird to be back.

The party happens to be at Yeonjun’s family’s house this year, and once Yeonjun found this out, he jumped at the chance to introduce you to his family. You couldn’t help but smile at the hope swirling in his eyes that day as he gushed about how much they’ll love you.

But being the sweetheart that he is, he definitely noticed the doubt swimming in your eyes. He tried his best to reassure you, telling you how sweet his family is and how excited they are to finally meet you.

That’s what wins you over, and now you’re here. The feeling of being home, or, at least, a few houses away from it, brings a warm feeling to your chest. To be able to spend it with your lovely boyfriend only deepens the feeling.

In a weird way, though, you notice bits and bits, just minor details that others seem to gloss over, that only tug at your heartstrings. From the movie playing on the flatscreen, to the gingerbread house tha’s about to be devoured by a wide-eyed seven-year-old, it brings this feeling of nostalgia that you can’t quite shake off. The more the night goes on, the more it seems to eat at you.

If you didn’t already think this was some weird full circle moment of sorts, you definitely do now.

Everywhere you look, all you seem to get is mirages of past times. Faint traces of Jeongin linger in the crevices of your mind. Even if it had been two years since you last saw him, he stuck to your memories like glue.

You tried your best to push those memories to the side—to push the ick you felt every time something that reminded you of those moments away, even if it did send a chill down your spine.

But Yeonjun just had to utter those words. “Want to stay over for Christmas?”

It made you physically pause, the words processing in your mind. Ten years worth of memories surf through your mind at lightning speed. The slight word change gives you the worst feeling in your stomach you have ever felt—it was like a huge pit of emotions had opened up inside of you.

You take a breath and exhale it slowly. “Do you mean stay for Christmas?”

“Stay for Christmas, stay over for Christmas,” Yeonjun sighs, “same thing.”

“It’s different,” is all you can mumble in response.

Yeonjun groans, leaning his weight onto his hands that are placed on the counter sides.

“One word difference.”

You snap to face him, a stern look making an appearance on your face. Your voice dripping with irritation, you say, “But there’s still a difference.”

You can cut the sudden tension that arises with a knife and it’s like that is exactly what Yeonjun chooses to do. He stands straight, turning to you, and you can see how tense his jaw is—like he’s been holding everything in, and how it’s now about to burst open at the seams.

“We’ve been together for over a year and you still can’t even stay over. And when I offer to spend Christmas with you because I know it’s your favorite time of year, you fight me on it.” Yeonjun runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Is it because I’m the one that’s asking?”

“What?” you gasp, shaking your head. “It’s just, it’s stay for Christmas. Not stay over, not stay with, it’s stay for Christmas.”

Yeonjun squeezes his eyes shut, hand still in his hair. All you can do is stare at him, waiting for what he says next. Once he does open his eyes, you can see the fogginess as in them, and when he speaks again, you feel like you’re being torn in two.

“But I’m not Jeongin, I can’t ask in the way he would.”

You open your mouth to speak, shocked at his words, but nothing comes out.

“What does Jeongin have to do with this?” You question. “I like you because you’re you, Yeonjun, not because you’re someone else.”

You both stand there, staring at each other and you can’t help but feel like neither of your words are sinking in. Like they were falling onto deaf ears.

“Well what about the snow?” Yeonjun suddenly asks. Had he been spending too much time with Jisung?

“Yeonjun, baby, it’s just the weather,” you look at him with soft eyes, but all it seems to do is break him more.

With a hiccup, he tries to keep his tears at bay, “Then how come it never happens when we’re together?”

You have to look away from him, not because you don’t care, but because if you look at him any longer, tears would spill from your own eyes. It would only just make everything harder than it already is.

Yeonjun’s sniffles fill your ears and from the corner of your eye, you can see him wipe his tears away. Even when he takes a few steps towards you and takes one of your hands in his, you’re still unable to look at him in fear of breaking.

“I’ll walk you home,” he whispers gently.

You gaze at the floor and nod your head, squeezing the hand that held yours. He squeezes it right back in a silent understanding. It’s like you hear both of your hearts cracking like glass in the silence, but it was unlike any type of heartbreak you had ever felt before…

It can’t compare to the heartbreak you had with Heeseung, or even the heartbreak you felt when Jeongin left. This is its own brand of heartbreak, one that would last and one that would carve itself into your heart, a cruel reminder that will follow you for all time.

The walk back to your apartment is a quiet one. Your fingers stay linked with Yeonjun’s, and every now and then, you’d squeeze each other’s hands to remind yourself of the moment—of the feeling of your hands entwined with each other.

When you’re outside of your door, it’s bittersweet and it’s heartbreaking. And when Yeonjun reluctantly draws his hand away from yours, you want everything to chase after it with your own.

This is when you finally look up at him.

His eyes are red and fresh tears have prickled up in his eyes as soon as they meet yours. As soon as you see his tears, your eyes quickly well up to match his.

“We should,” he hiccups. “We should take some time apart.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, sniffling away the sob that crawls up your throat. You feel Yeonjun’s light kiss on your cheek, and that sob defies you, escaping your lips.

When Yeonjun pulls away, he speaks softly, as if speaking any louder would break him completely. “We’re on different pages and we both deserve people who aren’t.”

His lips linger on your cheek, like a silent plea begging you not to let him move away, but to pull him closer. To tell him that you both could make whatever it is you called a relationship work.

But you don’t, and he soon pulls away, the warmth of his lips is quickly replaced with a damp, cold breeze.

You regret opening your eyes when you do because you’re met with Yeonjun’s own tears rolling down his face. With no attempt to stop them, Yeonjun hiccups and looks away from you.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N,” his voice strains.

As he walks away, you open your mouth to yell out for him, but nothing comes out when you try. You just watch as he slowly disappears down the hallway, his shoulders hunched, shuddering slightly every time a quiet sob escapes him.

You can’t tell if you’re lucky or not when you enter the apartment and realize that Jisung isn’t home. On one hand, you wouldn’t have to cry in front of him—on the other, you really don’t want to cry on your own.

You trudge your way to your room, a numbness overtaking your body. You crave the warmth of your blankets and can’t wait to let them hold you in comfort as you cry for the rest of the night.

When your blankets are secured around you and long after the tears have dried out, you sit there in self pity. Your phone is staring up at you, and you somehow find your way to your camera roll. An album of photos of you and Yeonjun sits right by your recents, and you’re hesitant to click on it. But you do, and the collection of photos from the past year and a half makes your heart wrench all over again.

You wish the relationship didn’t end this way as badly as he did, if not more. Yeonjun was perfect in every way—sweet, understanding, patient—yet, somehow, it still wasn’t enough to keep you two together.

“But I’m not Jeongin.” His words echo in your mind as you swipe through all of your selfies with him. He’s right: he’s not Jeongin. But that shouldn’t have mattered… right?

“I can’t ask in the way he would.” He can’t.

Or can he?

If he had not flubbed the iconic line, not even with the slightest one-word difference… would you be where you are right now?

You let your phone drop onto the mattress as you ponder. Burrowing yourself further into your blankets, you try to imagine Yeonjun saying the line correctly this time. ‘Stay for Christmas?’ he’d chirp, hope lighting up his beautiful brown eyes. ‘Stay for Christmas?’ he’d pipe, a pure smile pulling his soft lips upward.

But it doesn’t feel right.

No matter how you try to picture it, there’s something about those words leaving Yeonjun’s mouth that makes your stomach twist. As hard of a time as you gave him about getting the phrase wrong, imagining him getting it right almost feels worse.

Maybe he can’t pull it off like Jeongin can. Maybe he was missing the awkward little beat Jeongin always carried when he uttered those three little words. Maybe he lacked the sheepish glow Jeongin always seemed to have creep up his cheeks when he said it, regardless of how coolly he tried to pull it off. Don’t forget the way he’d stupidly wiggle his eyebrows at you, and the faint little giggle that followed as he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.

It’s a charm you truly believe only Jeongin could pull off.

But it shouldn’t have mattered that much. Jeongin wasn’t your boyfriend—Yeonjun was. And it’s not like Yeonjun didn’t have his own charm to him. His was more classic romantic, per se—always showing up at your doorstep with roses and a sweet smile, surprising you with dinner, taking you out for midnight drives while you blast both of your favorite songs. He’s a true Romeo, a type of lover that only exists in the movies.

“But I’m not Jeongin.”

You can’t stop Yeonjun’s gut-wrenching words from haunting your mind. It’s like the toll of a bell, its low tone ringing in every corner of your skull, shaking every crevice of your brain. Really, it shouldn’t bother you this much.

For starters, Jeongin is no Romeo. You’ve witnessed him try to be one firsthand—multiple times, actually. The keyword here is ‘try’.

There really were no suave, overly romantic elements to Jeongin, like there were for guys in the movies. He doesn’t need big gestures like flower bouquets bigger than your head to show that he cares. It’s all in the details, the smaller things he did, how he knew you nearly better than you did yourself. Taking you to see the lights all those years ago meant more to you than any grand movie gesture ever could have. Ultimately, he doesn’t need anything else because he is enough as it is. It’s a thought that slowly crept in over time and you never even noticed until it hit you like a brick. He’s not picture-perfect, but that’s not who you want him to be.

He’s just… Jeongin.

A part of you wants to admit it, but maybe, just maybe, he and stay for Christmas were what pushed your love for Christmas and the winter season more. But now that he isn’t here, that’s why it isn’t the same.

Because is there really a Christmas without Stay for Christmas?

The longer you stare at the folder, filled to the brim with photos of you and Yeonjun over the course of your relationship, the more unbearable it becomes. Your thumb hovers over the back button, soon letting fall against the screen.

Scrolling away as far as you could from it, another folder that instantly causes a mountain of flashbacks appears. Giggling at the joke title you named the album, you stare at it for a moment. You aren’t sure when the last time you looked at this album was.

As soon as you click on it, you’re hit with a wave of bittersweet nostalgia so hard, it almost hurts.

It’s a compilation of photos of you and Jeongin, dating back to when your parents handed you your first smartphone. You’re able to scroll so far back that you can find photos of Jeongin in that obnoxious purple sweater. Somehow, as you look at it in that moment, it doesn’t seem as obnoxious as it used to be…

Maybe it had grown on you, like stay for Christmas had grown on Jeongin.

And how pictures of Christmases before (and all-year-round photos) made your heart seem to swell in a way you hadn’t felt in a while. All the lights that grazed your presence when you were with him, all the longer-than-necessary hugs you two shared in the snow, even the thoughts, the memories of it, are like little static shocks sending metaphorical butterflies swarming around you. It plays at your chest like a flute and it makes you begin to wonder… if the thought of Yeonjun or actually being around Yeonjun, or even his touch, made you feel that way.

You’d think since Yeonjun is—was—your boyfriend, you wouldn’t have to think so hard for the answer. Yet here you are, comparing everything you felt with Jeongin to how you felt with Yeonjun over the past year.

It opens up the box of feelings you’ve tried so hard to push away. This time though, there’s no stopping it as everything bubbles up and spills over.

You continue looking through the photos of you and Jeongin, hardly noticing when the pictures start to blur slightly, fresh tears making their way down your cheeks. You missed him, you missed him so much it makes your chest hurt. There’s no denying that anymore, not that there was ever a point to it anyway. You missed everything about him, how he knew you like the back of his own hand to how effortless things had been between you two for so long.

A teary smile makes its way onto your face, unable to stop the overwhelming warmth that tore through you as you gaze at one photo of you two. Jeongin had an arm slung over your shoulders, braces-covered smile beaming up at you from the screen. You had a grin to match, happy and effortless, without a care in the world.

That’s how Jeongin had always made you feel, even during times when you had disagreements or fought over stupid things. At the end of the day, you always made your way back to him. Because ultimately, nobody else could make you feel the way he could—like you were safe, like you were home.

Eventually you ran out of photos to look through, and somehow you made your way to your messages, scrolling through and rereading old texts from Jeongin.

i miss you… you type out, take a deep breath, and hit send.

Instantly, he responds, making your heart swirl treacherously. i miss you too.

A second later, another text appears from him, making one last wave of tears pool in your eyes. stay for christmas?

The timing truly couldn’t be any worse than this, but you can’t deny the real reason behind your outburst anymore. All the seemingly-random bursts of butterflies in your stomach when you were a teenager slowly start to make sense. All the times your heart would skip a beat whenever he looked at you a certain way, the telltale sense of warmth you felt when you were even around him; heck, the entire incident at the winter formal—it all adds up.

There’s no denying who your heart yearns for anymore. And, if given the choice, there’s no denying which dark-haired boy you would live everything with all over again. No more running away, only running back to him—if only fate would let you.

wouldn’t miss it for the world.

23.

“Why so glum, chum?”

You barely move your head from where you’re curled up on the sofa to look at your roommate as he bounces into the living room. His overly energetic skips come to a halt right behind you and he looms his head above you, letting the corners of his mouth drag into an exaggerated pout.

You let out a slow breath and stare back at him with solemn eyes. The weather had dropped to the all-too-familiar December chill, rainbow lights adorned the city—heck, you’re watching A Charlie Brown Christmas for the third time in a row—but you can’t seem to will yourself into the Christmas spirit even if you tried. The reason seems pretty obvious to you.

For better or worse, the boy tapping his fingers on the back of the couch as he waits impatiently for your answer is one you’ve known for years. Over time, he’s morphed from the awkward older kid that ‘needs to take a couple babies under [his] wing’, to a sweet (when he wants to be)—dare you say, mature (again, when he wants to be)—older brother figure of sorts. If anyone knows why you’re so somber as you wallow in candy cane wrappers and your favorite ugly Christmas sweater, it should be him.

“You know why,” you grumble.

You think that’s enough of an answer, but Jisung bends down to get a better look at you and attempts to pry more.

“Hmm, do I?”

Another, more irritated huff leaves your parted lips as you turn to Lucy mercilessly grilling Charlie Brown, and you make damn sure your back is to your snoopy roommate.

Why do you even need to explain yourself to him? Jisung has literally had a front-row seat to the entire story since before he knew how to part his hair properly. He watched you slowly and hopelessly fall for your best friend before his very eyes since you were sixteen. He witnessed you delude yourself into a bottomless pit of denial for years, pushing yourself down so far that not even the most picture-perfect guy could pull you out.

Your life might as well be a sappy romance anime unfolding right in front of him, and Jisung knows every minute detail, every moment of development, every tear you shed for Jeongin like the back of his hand. He could whip up a play-by-play of your history with that boy faster than he can for the plot of Your Name—and he loves that movie.

But you guess as the older brother figure, it also means he has to annoy the living hell out of you for it. Not that he didn’t in the first place, but usually he’d, you know, comfort you when you’re upset.

Waddling around the couch to plop next to you, with overdramatized puppy eyes boring into your soul, is not that comforting.

“Come onnn, Y/N,” Jisung sing-songs, poking at your cheek. “Talk to me.”

Your frown etches further downward. You don’t do anything to move his hand, though, and opt to just turn your head back to the Peanuts characters.

“Cheer up, sugarplum.” Jisung now squishes your cheeks in one hand like a doting mother. It earns a whine from you, and you finally slap his hand away.

“Jisung.” You sigh, keeping your eyes on the TV. “I’m really, really not in the mood for celebrating Christmas this year.”

It makes your heart ache to actually admit it out loud, but you’d be lying if you tried to say otherwise. Christmas will always be your favorite time of the year, but all the memories you carry with it hurt too much now. It’s all a gaping hole in your stomach that you can’t patch.

“I know, I know,” Jisung says simply, but a heart-shaped smile slowly forms as he speaks. You blink as you stare blankly at him—you don’t like that sparkle in his eye.

That suspicious grin only widens as he utters his next words.

“That’s why we’re hosting a Christmas party next week.”

Your heart stops for a second, and you stare at Jisung with wide eyes.

“We?!”

You’re sure Jisung senses the aggravation in your voice. You already, and very blatantly, you may add, have made it clear that all you want for Christmas this year is to wallow in your blanket burrito and watch whatever cheesy film Hallmark was putting out.

But of course, Jisung won’t let that happen. You know he means well, but you still wonder for a second why you agreed to move in with him once he graduated and came back home from college.

“You know this is my apartment, too, right?” you add.

“I know, but just trust me!” He beams, and it only makes you scowl more. “Oh, wait…”

His phone flashes on, a notification popping up on his lockscreen, and whatever it is seems to elate his already excessively cheerful mood. You peer over his shoulder with curious eyes as his thumbs fly across the keyboard, but Jisung places a palm to your forehead and pushes your head away before you can get a glimpse.

“Nuh uh, that’s private!” He tuts, and you frown at him again. As he slides his phone back in his pocket, the cheesy smile returns to his face. Once again, you’re not a fan.

“I need you to trust me, okay?” he says. “It’ll be fun! It’s just gonna be you, me, and our closest friends. Promise.”

You’re still not super on board with the idea. Even a small hangout seems too much for you right now, and you can practically feel the flashbacks from the last few years haunting your mind as you think.

“I… I don’t know, Jisung.”

“If I give you hot chocolate right now, would that influence your decision?”

You watch as Jisung turns around, whipping out two to-go cups from right next to him. A small smile makes its way to your face as he hands you one.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble, taking a sip of the warm drink.

The gesture is surprisingly enough to make you say ‘yes’ a few harrowing (for Jisung) hours later, and that’s how you find yourself at your and Jisung’s “Christmas Eve Eve Spectacular”. Why Christmas Eve Eve? Who knows, but you did hear Jisung mumble something about being able to go to your neighborhood party in peace. Weird, especially when he seems to know that it’s on Christmas Eve this year.

Regardless, you think you did a good job of decorating the apartment for the occasion. Besides the small Christmas tree in the living room themed red and gold, you and Jisung had wrapped matching garlands above the curtains and hung wreaths on your bedroom doors. Your couch was adorned with throw pillows you had gotten on sale a week ago, and, because you didn’t have a fireplace, you opted to hang the stockings right above the TV instead. It’s very homey, yet screams young and broke at the same time.

The entertainment is even better. Something about Frosty The Snowman playing on the TV while a bunch of grown men yell at each other playing Twister just feels very college Friendsmas-esque to you. The best part? You’re in charge of the spinner. You can get your daily dose of Christmas cartoons without being trapped under a bunch of loud, sweaty guys.

“You’re cheating!” Hyunjin accuses Felix, slapping his hand from the yellow dot.

“It’s not my fault you don’t know what yellow means!” Felix yells back. He slams his hip into Hyunjin’s side and makes him topple over.

The taller boy gasps dramatically, pointing at Felix as he lies on the floor. “Now you really cheated, asshole!”

You snicker and shake your head at the boys’ shenanigans. You’ve nearly forgotten about the sour mood you were in just days ago; maybe giving in to Jisung’s incessant begging was the right decision.

Speaking of Jisung, he doesn’t seem too into the Twister game, and he’s usually one of the most competitive of the bunch. He was the first one out this round, claiming he “accidentally stumbled” on Seungmin’s hand as he “reached for the wrong dot”very early in the game. Weird.

From the corner of your eye, you can see him fervently checking his phone instead of watching the game, and sometimes, you’d catch a smug smile painting his face briefly before he quickly snaps back to a neutral facade. You’re tempted to snatch the boy’s phone from his hands and read whatever the hell is making him smirk so much.

After a moment, you focus back on the game. Seungmin and Felix are the only two left. Both are at the brink of collapsing, their entangled arms wobbling under them, and you’re placing bets with Hyunjin on who will fall first.

Felix’s arms give out first, after attempting to contort around himself and Seungmin as he stretches for a red dot. He groans out in pain, and you unceremoniously shove five dollars into Hyunjin’s hands as he revels in his victory.

“Thanks for the early present, Y/N,” he says, smiling cheesily.

You make a face akin to a grimace and roll your eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I want a rematch!” Felix’s voice audibly cracks as he whines, lying in a starfish position on the floor.

“Why did you try to go under and not over me?!” Seungmin remarks with an incredulous stare.

Hyunjin snickers. “That’s what she said.”

You smack him on the chest as the other boys groan. “Oh shut up, Hyunjin!” You hiss, shaking your head at the very mature joke. “We can do a rematch, though, but it’s up to you two,” you add, pointing two fingers at Felix and Seungmin.

Before you bend down to fix the bunched-up Twister mat, you turn to Hyunjin one more time. “And no more dirty jokes!”

The doorbell rings through the small apartment, making a look of puzzlement cross your face. You know you aren’t expecting anyone besides the boys that are already here, so you look to Jisung to see if he is.

“Did you order takeout, Ji?”

Jisung shakes his head at you, but a small smile graces his lips. “Nope.”

You blink. “…Did you order a package?”

He chuckles lightly. “One could say that.”

The growing gleam in his eye makes you furrow your brow more. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His small smile morphs into a Cheshire-like grin.

“Why don’t you get the door and find out?”

You stare at him with a twisted face as you slowly get up. You really, really don’t like that sparkle in his eye.

Your stomach jumps with uneasiness as you make your way to the door. Part of it was due to Jisung’s odd phrasing, but regardless, you’re almost terrified to find out what lies on the other side. You just cross your fingers and hope it’s a terrible gift at best that you can pretend to like.

Your hand shakes as you slowly twist the top lock open, then the bottom. Then you pull the door open, and you feel your heart rattle in your chest at the sight.

“…Jeongin?”

You feel like you’re dreaming as you stare at the boy in front of you. Jeongin has a comfy, dark purple sweater over a white hoodie—an actually decent shade of purple that’s pleasing to the eye. He runs a hand through his messy black hair as he smiles at you, letting out a deep but nervous chuckle when he realizes he’s just fluffed his hair up more. He’s grown it out since you last saw him, and his bangs perfectly frame his face, some strands falling in front of his eyes.

You feel the breath sucked out of your lungs. Not because he looks good (but you’re not denying that), or because you pick up a hint of sandalwood and amber lingering from him that nearly makes you dizzy—but because you feel all the memories from over the years flood in all at once. First come the good memories, and there’s tons of them. The several times you played hooky with him, the night he took you to see the glittering lights… the day you first met. It all brings a warm feeling to your chest, sending your heart fluttering as a light blush coats your cheeks.

But right after the good, you’re brought back down to earth with the bad. You’re fortunate that the bad is so little compared to the good, but the night before he left for college so suddenly is one you just can’t erase, no matter how hard you try. Memories of concerned glances and the surging feelings of regret and heartbreak make themselves known once again. Every moment of longing and the mixed feelings of wanting to reconnect with him, to be by his side again, causes your insides to twist in uncomfortable ways.

You can’t tell if you want to yell at him after leaving and not telling you himself, or if you want to run into his arms and never let him go.

Say something, Y/N, your mind screams at you as you remain frozen in place. But what are you supposed to say to someone so dear to your heart, that also happens to be the reason it’s ached for all these years?

You draw in another breath, and you stammer out the first thing that comes to mind.

“H-Hi.”

You mentally slap yourself. That’s all you have to say? You have been yearning for this moment for three years, and all you can come up with is ‘hi’?

Luckily, Jeongin seems to reciprocate, mumbling a “hey” back with an awkward wave, but you still want to kick yourself for your pitiful attempt at a greeting.

You turn around to see Jisung visibly deflate at the interaction. It’s clear now that he’s had this surprise planned for a while, and all his offhand murmurs from the past week about ‘getting the band back together’ are starting to make much more sense.

He blinks, and in a moment’s notice, his frown is gone and he sweeps in to save the moment.

“Jeongin, come here, my honey sweet!”

You chuckle fondly as Jisung smothers Jeongin with bone-crushing hugs and excessive hair ruffles. It’s just like when you were all awkward tweens and teenagers in the school hallways, except Jisung wasn’t randomly popping up behind you two, and you were all considerably shorter. You forgot how much you missed that.

“We’re about to play another round of Twister,” Jisung chirps after a minute, his arms still securely around the younger. “But I think Hyunjin, Felix, and Seungmin all want to go against each other, so you can go next round.”

Hyunjin cocks a brow. “No, they just said everyone can joi—”

“No they didn’t, Hyunjin,” Jisung bites back through gritted teeth, and sends the blond a look that makes him cower back to the living room.

Once Hyunjin leaves the room, Jisung turns to a confused Jeongin. “Y/N’s spinning. You can keep her company, maybe catch up a bit while you’re at it?” he suggests.

Jeongin smiles lightly, but he’s shoved into the living room with you in tow before he can verbally respond.

You’re both unceremoniously pushed into your tacky Christmas pillows, and Jisung hands you the spinner. He even does the first spin for you, and sends you a wink as he moves to sit by the window.

You just blink, waiting for the arrow to come to a full stop. “Seungmin, left foot on blue,” you call when it does.

As Seungmin is stepping onto the end blue circle, you spin the spinner again, nibbling on your lip anxiously as you feel Jeongin’s body heat radiating onto you. It makes you want to squirm, and you try your best to keep your eyes on the spinner.

“Felix, left hand, red.”

Felix mumbles to himself, but you’re not sure what as you’re not really listening. Once he settles on a dot, you flick the spinner again.

Jeongin clears his throat and fiddles with his fingers in his lap. “How have you been?” He attempts—keyword: attempts—to ask casually.

You’re so focused on watching the spinner, all you do is hum in response. When the spinner slows and stops, you clear your own throat. “Jisung, right foot, green,” you call out, “and… alright,” you mumble afterward. “I’ve been alright, you?”

He watches you as you flick the plastic arrow again. “I’ve… I’ve been okay…”He trails off like he wants to say more, but he remains quiet.

“Hyunjin, left hand, yellow.”

You’re not sure how long you guys sit there silently for, but your insides feel like they’re trying to claw their way out of you. Maybe ten minutes of silence feels like ten hours, and you desperately pray for the game to end so you could do literally anything else.

If only your thirteen-year-old self could see you now. Maybe you were too dramatic that Christmas, because you are sure this just took the throne as The Most Awkward Conversation Of Your Life™.

Out of nowhere, a loud gasp booms over Michael Bublé’s “Have A Holly Jolly Christmas”, the boys’ shouting, and whatever cartoon autoplayed after Frosty ended. Everyone’s heads snap to Jisung, who stares with sparkly eyes at the world outside.

You lean past Jeongin to get a glance. Light gray skies, slow-floating crystals, fluffy white blanket… it makes you break out into a grin. So does Jeongin, who smiles fondly as he pats your knee. The move makes you want to do backflips.

“Oh my god, snow!” Jisung cheers, already scurrying for the door. He mutters something about it being ‘just what he needed’ as he zips past you and Jeongin, but quickly turns on his heel when he sees neither of you move a muscle.

“Um, hello?!” the older boy chastises you and Jeongin, tossing you your coats and hitting you both in the face. “It’s the first snow of winter, what are you doing?!” He claps his hands for emphasis, but not before he shoves a pair of mittens into both your hands. “You need. To see. The snow.”

You exchange a knowing look with Jeongin but follow Jisung’s hasty instructions. Neither of you seem to move as fast as he wants you to be, so he does the job for you by hurriedly, but carefully, pushing you both down the stairs and to the lobby.

Jeongin presses his lips into a thin line, stepping closer to you as Jisung dashes back up the stairs to get the rest of the group. You smile back politely, but say nothing else.

You turn back to the stairs at the sound of Jisung’s voice bouncing off the walls. Whether he knows you two could hear him or not, you don’t think he cares, considering that he’s already yelling at the top of his lungs.

“SEE!” He motions around himself widely. “I TOLD YOU IT’D SNOW WHEN THEY WERE TOGETHER!” A dopey smile covers his face as he holds his hands up to his chest, like he himself had just miraculously fallen in love. “It’s like magic!”

Judging from a quick glance behind you as you make your way toward the front doors, Hyunjin seems to fully indulge in Jisung’s antics, smiling brightly and hopping up and down as they bound down the stairs. Felix and Seungmin, who trail behind them, don’t seem nearly as amused.

“Jisung, bro,” Seungmin blinks, “It’s literally just the weather.”

Jisung’s smile drops instantly and he glares at the brunet boy, pointing a finger at him. “No! You had to be there for everything, trust me! I’M NOT CRAZY, WATCH!”

The listless look doesn’t drop from Seungmin’s face as he follows his overly chipper friend downstairs.

Jeongin snorts, lightly bumping his shoulder into your own. “He’s still on that?”

You open the front door for the both of you, rolling your eyes. “He never stopped, seriously.”

The cold air hits you instantly and you’re glad Jisung gave you your gloves to wear. You scan the area around you and the only other people in sight are a group of children across the street. The ever-growing white blanket in front of your apartment complex is all yours and Jeongin’s—anything’s free game.

Unfortunately, the delicate, white crystals fluttering down around you do nothing to help the tension looming between you both. It followed you out of your apartment like a dark storm cloud, and now it’s raining on your snowy parade. You hate it. But you don’t know how to get rid of it.

“Sooo…” you start, and just as quickly trail off. “What now?”

Jeongin just shrugs, watching a snowflake fall to the ground.

You sigh, mostly to yourself. Looks like you’re going to have to take the lead. You begin to roll up a ball of snow, making it bigger and bigger in hopes of building a snowman.

The bigger and more round your snowman base gets, the more that the little rain cloud between you and Jeongin seems to shrink away. Even though you haven’t said a word to the boy and nearly forgotten he was even there, something about playing in the snow together in silence is… healing. It’s therapeutic in its own right, the soft crystals somehow bringing a feeling of warmth to your chest as you bring out your inner child.

Just as you’re finished with the top body part and you’re lifting it up ready to place, a sudden impact of cold, wet snow hits the back of your neck and begins to slither down your back. This results in you dropping the snowman’s body and you gasp as it breaks apart into heaps on the floor.

Turning around, you pout as Jeongin looks at you with a cheeky smile playing at his lips. He looks away, whistling innocently and shoving his hands into his coat pockets. Your glare hardens and you quickly pick up the precious bit of used snow, squishing it into a ball before lobbing it in Jeongin’s direction, just barely missing his left arm.

“You need to work on your aim,” Jeongin remarks cockily, and you scrabble another snowball in your hands.

Throwing the haphazardly-made snowball in his direction, his laughter fills your ears and makes the butterflies in your stomach fly. You duck as his own snowball is about to hit you, and it just skims the back of your head.

“This is war!” You glare at your best friend. “You made me mess up my snowman!”

“Why focus on your snowman when you can focus on me?” Jeongin laughs, making your heart speed up again.

You hide behind the pitiful remains of your snowman and hold your hands to your cheeks. Sure, you were in a war, but you couldn’t let him see that his words affected you. You could have blamed it on the cold, but would Jeongin really believe it?

“You can’t hide forever,” Jeongin sings, his voice getting nearer and nearer.

Keeping a watchful eye over your shoulder, you attempt to make a bunch of snowballs as you try to will the color on your cheeks away. You try to calm your breathing, suppressing any giggles that threaten to come out as you grow your small pile of ammo.

As you scramble to prepare for whenever Jeongin plans to pelt you with snowballs, all your worries seem to melt away. Adrenaline rushes through your body as you hear Jeongin’s boots crunch in the snow, but you also feel a wave of calm wash over you. It’s just you, Jeongin, and the white blanket of snow surrounding you two. Just like when you were little.

You missed this.

A small giggle escapes your lips as you peer over your shoulder one more time. Jeongin doesn’t seem to be sneaking up on you—in fact, he’s nowhere in sight. You turn around and let out a sigh of relief. You’re safe.

Until you notice Jeongin towering over you, smirking deviously.

“Did you miss me?”

You let out a squeal, backing yourself against your crumbling snowman as you frantically chuck snowballs his way. He seems to be unfazed by it, only chuckling as the snowballs split into pieces as they hit his chest, and he steps closer to you.

Soon, you’re resorting to flinging pathetic scoops of snow at him as you try to scoot back. You’re in a fit of giggles as he inches closer, your heartbeat quickening his pace as you chuck one more blob of snow to hopefully deter him.

It strikes him square in the face.

Your jaw drops in surprise, and you can only watch as Jeongin wordlessly wipes the snow off his face. You search his face for any sign of hurt, fearing you might’ve gone too far, but you only find a mischievous glint in his eye.

Oh no.

You gulp as he drops to his knees and continues to close the gap between you, his smug smile growing wider. A nervous giggle escapes your lips as you watch for his next move, and you grab another handful of snow in your mitt to get ready to fight back—then you feel his fingers at your sides.

“Jeongin, stopppp~!”

You’re unable to control your laughter as Jeongin mercilessly tickles you. Any attempts at pushing him away are quickly proved fruitless by a shove of his hand, and you’re left thrashing around helplessly as he continues to torture you.

You’ve practically been thrown into the pillow of former-snowman behind you by the time Jeongin sits back and lets you go. Gasping for air, you let out another giggle as you watch him bend over, hands on the snow by either of your sides as he catches his breath as well.

The air around you falls silent as you stare up at him. You search his face again, your chest heaving up and down. You can’t find any more signs of incoming mischief, but you find his soft gaze staring back at you, and the rosy color pricking at his cheeks. You assume his blush is from the cold, but you know yours is from otherwise.

Another few seconds pass and Jeongin still hasn’t tormented you. A smirk slowly spreads across your face as an idea sparks on your mind.

Before you can even think it through, you spring up, arms outstretched as you pounce in his direction. He has no time to react before you tackle him, fingers going to his sides as you tickle him and get your sweet revenge.

“You asshole!” You shriek in between giggles.

It’s now Jeongin’s turn to try to shove your hands away as he scoots back, an endless stream of giggles escaping his mouth as well. Hearing his laughter ring in your ears makes you laugh more in turn as you shuffle after him. You both grapple around for a moment and eventually land on the ground, you on top of Jeongin, your legs all tangled together.

You tickle him for another second when you look up and pause. It’s then that you realize just how close your faces are to each other, and suddenly, you forget how to breathe. Everything goes still for a moment as you stare at him with wide eyes. One more movement and you’d be kissing him.

You pray that Jeongin doesn’t feel your heart hammering against your ribcage as you’re pressed up against him, but you can’t help but wonder if his heart is doing backflips in his own chest.

Unable to take the thoughts swirling inside your head anymore, you roll off of him and onto your back, looking up at the sky. Tiny snowflakes fall around you in a light, gentle flow, but a steady one—it almost feels reassuring. It’s like the universe is sending you a message, in its own special way, that everything will be alright.

You take a deep breath and look over at the boy next to you. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he blinks, wide eyes gazing up at the snow. A couple snowflakes seem to fall on his face and he scrunches up his nose as he giggles. A fond smile decorates your lips as you watch him, and you feel your heart quicken its pace once again.

Another moment passes and Jeongin turns his head to you. “What's wrong?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

You shake your head and start moving to stand up. “It’s nothing, just…” you trail off, unsure what to say next. You hold out a hand to help him to his feet as well.

The two of you stand in silence for some time. You take a small step closer to him, and you can’t deny the way your heart swells in your chest as you take in the scene around you. The snow seems to dance around you two, swirling around gently as if the crystals are casting a gentle spotlight on you both. When your eyes land back on Jeongin, you note the snowflakes that dot his chestnut hair and perfectly complement his slightly messy curls. It’s adorably awkward, but he looks cozy, like… almost like home.

He turns his head to look at you and gives you a smile that sends warmth spreading through your whole body. There’s a gentleness to his gaze as his eyes meet yours, and the way he reaches over to move a strand of hair away from your face nearly makes you melt. A faint blush dusts his cheeks as he steps closer to you, closing the distance between you two, and you hope he doesn’t notice your already rosy cheeks glow a deeper red.

“Stay for Christmas?” he whispers.

There’s no helping the grin that grows on your face at the familiar words.

“Just come here.”

You can hear the squeals of the children across the street (and Jisung from behind you), but you feel at peace as you lean up to wrap your arms around Jeongin’s neck. A small chuckle reverberates through you as you feel him snugly hug you back, and you tuck your head in his shoulder.

You still don’t believe the snow is the seasonal deity that Jisung swears by, but something about the way it gently cascades down feels like it’s wrapping you both in a warm blanket and reassuring you that you’re okay. That you’re home. As Jeongin gently rests his head against yours and sways the two of you back and forth, you realize that this was what you were missing the whole time; not only in your old neighborhood, but during the time Jeongin was away.

Turns out the magic you always felt during this time of year wasn’t just in the snow. It wasn’t just in the whimsicality of Christmas cartoons, or your utter fascination with the holiday lights, either. It’s the feeling of comfort that comes with it, the feeling of knowing that someone who cares about you will be there to do it all with you a thousand times over. That special feeling that only Jeongin has been able to give to you all these years, even if it’s awkward at times, even if you’ve consumed one too many cups of hot chocolate for his liking… the feeling of being home.

You realize that Jeongin is more than just your best friend and your longtime crush—he’s home. And if it takes a bit of snow to realize that, that’s magic enough for you.

24...

Christmas has changed a lot since the previous year with you and Jeongin officially being back at best friend status—not that he had ever left. But just knowing he’s finally home is enough to rekindle your affinity for the holidays that you’ve been lacking for the past few years. Now it’s finally here, and the fire inside you is burning brighter than ever.

With it being a newfound tradition in the Y/Nsung household—funny enough, you actually coined the name—your apartment this year is once again the main headquarters for all things Christmas festivities. And this time, it’s on Christmas Eve. You thought it’d be fitting, considering your shared history with Jeongin over the date. Like last year, you took care to decorate the apartment to a T, pretty garlands and shades of red and green glistening all over the living area.

The party had very much been a success, with only a few disagreements (read: screaming matches) between Hyunjin and Felix about who was actually better at the chosen game, and who was, in fact, cheating. You suspected both of them cheated at some point, but decided staying silent was probably the better option.

And after a hearty meal of Chinese take-out from the 24/7 open restaurant, the three boys, minus Jeongin, called it a night and headed out for the comforts of their warm beds. You could still hear Hyunjin and Felix arguing as they left, with a sulking Seungmin behind them, grumbling something about having to listen to them all the way back to their hotel.

You close the door behind them and turn to your best friend. He’s standing rather close to you, making your heart speed up slightly. The small smile that covers his face leaves you feeling comforted, loved.

It’s crazy how much can happen in a year. The awkwardness you feared would persist after being apart for three years had melted away after Jeongin (and Jisung) surprised you with his return, after that impromptu snowball fight that set your heart alight. You two spent the following few days doing some much-need catching up, and now, you’re closer than ever. It was like he never left home. Or, rather, like you were finally home.

“I thought you would have gone with them,” you mention, your own smile playing at your lips.

Jeongin shrugs, opening his arms out wide, indicating his need for a hug. “Just wanted to spend more time with you.” You giggle, shuffling into his arms. “Without all of the yelling,” he finishes his sentence as a mumble.

“Yeah,” you sigh into his chest. “This is much nicer.”

Maybe it’s weird to say that you feel something in the air shift. Or maybe it was the way Jeongin subtly changed his grip on you, but something seems different all of a sudden.

“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out softer than you expected, but when Jeongin holds you tighter and just sighs, your suspicions become elevated.

He lets his arms fall from you and he slips one hand into your own, leading you back into your living room. An uncomfortable silence sifts between you two.

“Jeonginnie?” you finally say after another moment.

“I need to talk to you about something.” He frowns, pulling you down so you’re sitting next to him. “It’s serious.”

A frown of your own instantly takes its place on your face. Jeongin sits there, his gaze on your one hand in his lap, and he plays with your fingers in hopes of calming himself down.

“And I need to tell you because I don’t want what happened before to repeat itself.” Jeongin explains. “I don’t want to go however many years to go by again because I didn’t tell you myself.” He continues, now looking at you.

Eyebrows furrowed, you gaze at him. “Jeongin, what’s going on?”

“I… I got a job offer…”

You’re about to open your mouth and congratulate him, then he finishes his sentence, finally looking you in the eye.

“…but it’s two cities away.”

If Jeongin listened carefully enough, he could’ve heard your heart crack in your chest.

“Oh…”

He nods his head solemnly. “My parents are flying out with me tomorrow night to go check out apartments.” His gaze falls back to your hand that’s on his lap, and his voice grows softer as he continues to explain. “We’ll be back by New Year’s, but… once we settle on a place and sign the lease…”

“…You’ll be leaving again,” you quietly finish his sentence, your voice wavering at the end. He nods once more.

It’s like you were nineteen all over again, but this time, you had Jeongin in front of you—almost softening the blow. All the emotions you felt after he had left the first rush back to the surface all at once, and you nearly feel like you’re drowning.

But you stuff it all down. You shove it back in the crackling dam that is your heart, at least for the moment. You can let out your frustration with the world when Jeongin goes home. Not now.

Be strong, Y/N.

“We can still text,” you begin, your voice filled with hope—at least, you pray that’s what comes across. “And call and FaceTime.”

The sides of Jeongin’s lips turn up into a small smile. Slowly, he moves his hand so it’s wrapped in yours, entwining your fingers together and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“We will.” He looks up at you again. “I just wanted to be the one to tell you this time.”

You squeeze his hand back. Your heart races. “I appreciate that.”

A thick, heavy silence spreads across the room. You’re too focused on gazing into Jeongin’s eyes to care about the world outside of your little bubble with him. But your heart cries out, not wanting the moment to end. Not when this could be the last night you see Jeongin for a while.

You want to hold his hand and hold him in your arms and never let him go. But you know you can’t do that. Not when this job could be a big deal for him, not when it could change his whole life.

So you let the warmth from his hand seep into yours. You let your head fall onto his shoulder. You let the butterflies fly in all directions at the sight, and feeling, of his sweet gaze on you. The one you’ll miss so dearly when he’s gone.

The one you’ll cherish for as long as you can.

“YAHOOOO!!”

A loud yell echoes throughout the apartment, causing your stares to break and Jeongin to drop your hand. With the yell coming from the only other known person in the apartment, you silently think of the ways you’d hurt Jisung in his sleep tonight for ruining the moment.

Soon, a trail of slamming doors and footsteps are heard, growing in frequency and volume as they get closer and closer to the living room. Then the living room door swings open and slams against the wall, Jisung’s hand stopping it from bouncing back and hitting him in the face whilst he prances into the room with the largest gummy smile you've ever seen. His cheeks are all pink and he looks like he could burst into happy tears at any moment.

“Guess what, my babies!” he sings, maybe a little too lively, “Looks like your guardian angel came to the rescue, Jeongin’s not leaving tomorrow!”

Blinking, you sit there, your lips twisting into a confused grimace as he dramatically wipes the corners of his eyes with his sleeve. You want to wholeheartedly believe your fanatical roommate. You wish so desperately for this to just be some bad dream you’re about to wake up from. But the way your heart continues to squeeze in your chest, even as Jisung skipped into the room so cheerfully, tells you all of this is real. The idea that a last-minute Christmas miracle is about to turn things around sounds too good to be true.

You’re about to interject and beg Jisung to explain, but he beats you to it, sensing the skepticism on your and Jeongin’s faces. “Look outside!” He feverishly points to the window. “You’ll see what I mean!”

Lifting your head off Jeongin’s shoulder, you exchange confused looks with the younger boy as you both get on your feet. He leads the way to the window by your front door, blindly reaching behind him for your hand and connecting your fingers when he finds it. You notice Jisung wiggling his eyebrows at you and almost let go to make him stop, but Jeongin lightly squeezes your hand before your fingers can slip away.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you push the blinds to the side, and you hope Jeongin doesn’t glance your way and notice. Luckily, he’s too occupied with gaping at the scene outside. And so are you.

It is, in fact, snowing—and it’s snowing hard. Wind howls against your thin apartment walls as the icy flakes come pouring down, a thick, white fog blurring your view of the street below you.

“Wow…” you mumble to yourself. In the fifteen or so years since you’ve moved, you’ve never witnessed a snowfall this hard. Let alone on the first snow of winter.

“It’s snowing like this all over the country,” Jisung remarks, showing the two of you the weather report on his phone. Jeongin scrolls through the list with one finger and, to his horror, the city where his new job is located is there.

“You know what that means?” Jisung continues, a small smirk on his face. “No leaving, at least for a few days.”

You keep your gaze out the window, your spirits brightening at the news. As selfish as it was, you could barely control the surge of happiness bursting inside you at the thought of having Jeongin around for a little while longer.

Maybe a Christmas miracle is possible.

You completely miss Jeongin’s loved-up stare as you look back at him, a concerned frown on your face. “What about your flight tomorrow?”

He shrugs, rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of your hand. “I’ll figure something out,” he mumbles.

He steps closer to you, and you swear you see sparkles in his eyes as he gazes into your own. You forget Jisung is there as the taller boy leans down until your noses are nearly touching. A small smile grazes his features as he whispers, a gentle but playful timbre to his voice:

“Stay for Christmas?”

“I– um– uh–” you sputter at the sudden close contact, your eyes widening in surprise. You take a second to breathe and recompose yourself before you try again, sheepishly gesturing to the window, “I don’t think you have a choice.”

You carefully watch Jeongin for his reaction. He seems to lean forward, inching his face even closer to yours, and you feel your breath get caught in your throat.

The boy squeezes your hand and leans his forehead against yours, a shameless grin on his face as he flashes you a wink.

“Fine by me.”

You pray that he can’t hear your heart pounding in your chest, or that he doesn’t mention how red your cheeks are. You note the pink tint dusting his cheeks as he steps back, in case he decides to tease you for the latter. Despite your embarrassment, the shy giggle that slips out his mouth still makes you smile.

Jisung suddenly breaks the moment with a dreamy sigh, a hand flying over his heart. “And it’s all thanks to snow!”

You roll your eyes dismissively. “How much longer are you going to keep on about this magic snow?” you ask, causing Jisung to snort.

“As long as I want, Miss Tuxedo Effect.”

You can practically hear the shit-eating grin on Jisung's face. You drop Jeongin’s hand as you snap your head to the older boy, throwing a scowl his way.

“‘Miss Tuxedo Effect?’” Jeongin questions, an eyebrow raised as he looks between the two of you.

If your cheeks weren’t already as red as a tomato, they surely are now. “Don’t ask,” you grumble, swiftly heading to the kitchen to try and evade his prying. To your disdain, he follows you like a lost puppy.

“What’s he talking about?” he asks again. When Jisung, who’s treading behind you two in amusement, goes to open his mouth, you glare him into silence.

“It’s nothing.”

That seems to shut your overly curious best friend up long enough for you to pour yourself a glass of milk. The less Jeongin knew about the tuxedo effect incident, the better. You don’t need two boys torturing you about it, especially when the first one still refuses to let it go after eight years.

You watch him in silence as your drink heats up in the microwave, his eyebrows knitted together as he tries to search your and Jisung’s faces for answers. You maintain a poker face, but of course Jisung revels in Jeongin’s nosiness.

“Jeongin, think about it,” he hums, casually taking a bite of one of Felix’s cookies. You resist the urge to slap it out of his hand.

“Don’t,” you glower at him.

“How many times has she seen guys in tuxedos?” Jisung continues, his cheeks casually puffed up with food.

“Depends,” Jeongin looks to his friend and shuffles closer to you, “are we counting movies?”

Jisung snorts, nearly spitting out a chunk of chewed-up cookie. “Don’t include movies!” He covers his mouth with one hand as he gulps the bite down. “You’ll never narrow it down if you do!”

Your jaw drops in offense as the boys fill the kitchen with giggles. “Hey!”

An embarrassed flush creeps onto your cheeks again and you turn to pull your mug out of the microwave. You take a sip of the warm milk as you stew quietly, waiting for their laughs to die down.

“Okay, okay, seriously,” Jisung pipes up after a moment, stifling another giggle. “If you just look at high school…” he glances at you, his mouth quivering into a teasing grin, “she’s only seen guys in tuxedos, like, three times.”

“It was more than three!” You exclaim defensively, placing your mug down before you list off… every single time you’ve seen a boy in a suit.

You can’t believe you’re having this conversation.

“There was junior prom,” you hold up a finger, “senior prom,” you hold up another finger. You hesitate, then add, “the one time I went to homecoming—”

“Hey, that homecoming one doesn’t count!” Jisung protests. “You volunteered for extra credit!”

You groan and throw your hands up in defeat. Okay, maybe it was only three times, but you’d rather do anything else than admit it..

“Then what else is there?!”

Jisung shoots you a challenging look, eyebrows raised as one corner of his mouth threatens to twitch into a smirk. Your exasperated look immediately drops. You know, Jisung knows… and a quick glance at Jeongin tells you he just figured it out.

“Don’t tell me it was the formal?” The taller boy watches you with wide eyes.

“Jeongin!” you whine.

He gasps, a hand slapping over his mouth as he leaps over to smother you.

“It was!”

His name escapes you once again as you use his shoulder as a way to try and shield yourself from the embarrassment—and him seeing the bright red tint currently burning your cheeks.

“You thought I was cute when I wore that oversized suit?” he chuckles, letting his arms go around you.

“Shit up,” you continue to whine.

Jeongin’s deep chuckle basically vibrates through you, it makes the butterflies in your stomach scatter. Your ear tingles when you feel his hot breath brush against it.

“If it's any consolation, you looked really good, too.”

You smack his chest and turn your head away from him in hopes of him not seeing your blush. It fails miserably.

“Oh my god, you’re blushing so hard,” Jeongin coos, using his free hand to try and get you to face him again. “Look how cute,” he hums.

With his fingers on your chin, you shut your eyes tightly. There was no way you could look him in the eye and have a rational thought. Not now, not when he was being so open and—dare you say it—flirty with you.

“You’re so annoying,” you mumble, your eyes still closed.

On the contrary, you don’t know how much more your heart can take. You don’t even have to open your eyes to know Jeongin is still smirking his ass off.

“You don’t mean that, right, Miss Tuxedo Effect?”

Your eyes snap open, your jaw tightening in an attempt to glare at him. He did not just go there. But at this point, with this new cocky attitude, why did it even surprise you he’d stoop so low?

“You—” Your mind lapses and you’re unable to finish your sentence.

Jeongin tilts his head slightly, his smile still crooked. “You?”

Maybe it’s by sheer luck on your part or utter stupidity on Jisung’s, but a small noise makes you both turn and look at the older boy, who has his phone held up at the two of you.

click.

He backs away slowly, retreating to the living room door. “You'll thank me for these later.”

Rolling your eyes, you stare at him. “Why? Because the magic snow told you so?”

Jisung gasps, pointing at you with a glare.

“It’s not magic snow, it’s fate and I’ve already proved it enough times!” He yaps on. Huffing, he crosses his arms over his chest and his eyes narrow at you. “By the way, Jeongin will have to sleep in your room.”

You freeze at his statement and feel all the color drain your face.

“Uh…” you gulp. “Why?”

“Well you see,” Jisung starts. His eyes flutter around the room, unable to stay on you. “The… the pull-out is broken!” He snaps his fingers before pointing at you. “Yeah, yeah, last time Hyunjin was here, he totally ripped it to shreds, sugarplum.”

You blink slowly. The last time Hyunjin was here was last month, and Jisung was using the pull-out last week just fine.

“It’s just so broken now,” the older boy continues on his tangent, making a tsk noise and shaking his head. “He said he’d replace it, but he hasn’t yet, so it looks like Jeongin is going to have to bunk with you.” Jisung tries to laugh as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Uh…” you repeat.

It’s not that you didn’t want to share your room, let alone your bed, with Jeongin. He’s been your best friend for fifteen years—if there’s any guy on the planet you are comfortable doing that with, it’s him. Not even Heeseung or Yeonjun reached that level with you.

But even though you and Jeongin are attached to the hip, you two were never this close. Especially not when your parents shut down every attempt to stay for Christmas growing up. Why didn’t they just let you two do it? Surely, if they did, this wouldn’t be making your palms sweat as much as they are right now.

That wasn’t the only issue now, though. Not when he could be moving away any day now, if it weren’t for the blizzard outside. Not when it took you this long to realize what you would give for him to stay.

Not stay for Christmas. Just stay.

“I can sleep on the normal couch,” Jeongin suggests, breaking your train of thought. Jisung feverishly shakes his head.

“No!” He yells, his eyes wide. “I mean, you can’t, it’s so uncomfortable, you’ll have a bad back. It’s better to share with Y/N!”

Jeongin’s cocky attitude seems to dissolve in seconds. His smirk melts into a small sheepish smile, the tips of his ears turn pink, and he can barely look you in the eye.

“Is that okay?” he asks in the smallest voice ever.

It’s now or never, Y/N.

“Sure,” you smile. “It’s fine.”

Jeongin shuffles out of the room, leaving you to glare daggers at the boy who’s gone back to nonchalantly snacking on Felix’s leftover desserts.

“You are so full of shit,” you grumble, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks again.

Jisung just gives you a tilted smile mid-munch.

“Would it help if I said the snow told me to do it?”

You slam your hand on the kitchen island, throwing your head back in despair and frustration. “You’ve lost your mind.”

“I didn’t, the snow did!” Jisung yells after you as you stomp out of the kitchen.

As Jeongin hogs the bathroom and gets ready for bed, you replay your words over and over in your head as you pace back and forth in your room, creating a small draft. ‘It’s fine’?! Are you crazy?! It’s not fine. It’s not fine at all.

Why did you agree to let Jeongin sleep just centimeters away from you? Is it too late to back out and hide in Jisung’s room for the night? If anything, Jisung deserved it for a multitude of reasons, the primary one being his ongoing snow escapades. You don’t know why you didn’t try fighting back on that earlier.

Running a hand through your hair, you heave out a sigh and flick the lights off. You pull your duvet up and shuffle under the covers, bunching the blanket around your chest and letting your arms rest on top of it. A strange feeling swirls in your stomach as you stare up the ceiling, and you truly think about what you just signed up for.

After fourteen years, you’re finally getting that Christmas sleepover you and Jeongin have been joking about since you were ten. Well… the one you’ve been joking about since you were ten. Jeongin started it, then attempted to forget it existed for a while, then he started joking along with you. However, at some point… it didn’t feel like you were joking anymore.

You don’t remember when, specifically—if there even was a specific moment. You just remember that at some point, despite years and years of endless teasing on your part, you genuinely wanted this sleepover. With all the roadblocks you two had endured during your childhood and teen years, though, you thought it’d never happen.

And now, here you are.

The soft click of the door opening causes you to look up. Light from the hallway floods into the room and Jeongin smiles warmly at you. His hair is fluffy and he still has a few drops of water on his forehead from washing his face. He smooths out his oversized black t-shirt a little as his eyes meet yours, then he looks down and dusts off his gray sweatpants. You can’t help but smile fondly at the sight.

His smile fades into something more timid as he closes the door behind him and shuffles over to the bed. Before climbing into the covers, he looks at you, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

“Is this…” he hesitates, “Are you sure this is oka—”

You chuckle, gently cutting him off. “Just get in the bed, Jeongin.”

A bittersweet feeling cascades over you as he tucks himself under the covers. It’s really happening. Your first Christmas sleepover has finally officially begun, after fourteen years of waiting. Somewhere in the back of your mind, though, you’re plagued with a brutal reminder that this could also be your last Christmas together. Ever.

You feel Jeongin move around a bit, soon settling and facing you. You shift onto your side after a moment, smiling tightly at him before letting your gaze drift out your window. Snow continues to surge down, and the wind rattles against the glass. If it weren’t for the dim glow of the streetlight outside, you wouldn’t be able to see a thing.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Jeongin mumbles after a beat. You don’t need more light to know he has a cocky grin on his face.

“I’m not even looking at you, dummy,” you scoff, pointing past his ear and out the window.

He turns his head around, following your finger. Once he lands his eyes on the window, his jaw drops slightly and nods in understanding. “I didn’t think it would snow this hard.”

His voice is soft but gentle, and it makes your heart skip a beat. You force out a chuckle in an attempt to ground yourself. “Should’ve known Jisung would’ve gone mad.”

Jeongin snorts, “He’s long gone, you know this.” He turns around again, the corners of his lips lifting up slightly. “But… at least I get to stay for Christmas.”

You can't help but smile back. “After all these years,” you muse.

“Yeah…”

A beat of silence. “Is this what you imagined it would be?” You ask, your voice quieter.

Jeongin purses his lips together, looking down for a second. “When I was ten? No.”

You both chuckle.

“I thought we’d be knocked out on the couch after eating too many cookies,” Jeongin continues before adding as an afterthought, “Well, after you ate too many cookies.”

You gasp in fake offense, lightly swatting at his chest. “Hey, you were just as bad!”

He scoffs, and another chuckle slips out. It’s like music to your ears.

Then another beat of silence.

“Was this what you imagined it would be?” He repeats your question back to you.

Your eyes meet his as you shake your head. ”No.”

It wasn’t… at least, not until you got older, but he didn’t need to know that.

Feeling some of the tension melt away, you and Jeongin continue to lie down next to each other in a comfortable silence. You aren’t sure how quickly you became accustomed to feeling his body heat seeping into you. In so little time, this image of Jeongin lying next to you, you want it burned inside your mind. The image of his hair so fluffy, you want to reach out and run your hands through it. The silhouette of him under the covers so cozy, you want to throw yourself into his arms.

How it had been a measly fifteen minutes, but this scenario with him… of you two being together… you want it forever.

“Are you okay?” Jeongin’s voice breaks the silence, as well as your train of thought.

You let out a sigh. “I… I guess.”

You can’t help but feel like this is some cruel twist of fate. That maybe the snow isn’t magical or special, but rather cruel and cunning—teasing you by giving you what you’ve always wanted, your stay for Christmas, only to rip it away from you so ruthlessly in a few days.

All of the words you want to say, that you wish you could say, becomes a bitter pill in your mouth. It leads you to wonder if it was worth spitting it all out, or if you should swallow and shove it down instead. If anything you say in this moment, if you tore your chest open and bore your heart out for Jeongin to see… would it really change anything?

You already know the answer, but it doesn’t mean you can’t try.

“I…” you start. “I don’t want you to leave.”

While you were lost in thought, Jeongin had shifted himself so he was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He exhales and you can practically see his breath in the air.

“Honestly?” he sighs. “I don’t either.”

“Then…” you hesitate. “Then can’t you just stay…” your voice shakes. “…with me?”

It feels weird not asking that he stay for Christmas, but you have that covered right now. You know it won’t last forever if you’re not careful, though, so it’s pointless to try.

So it’s not stay for Christmas, for once in your life. Just stay.

He rolls over onto his side so he’s facing you and he places his hand ever so near yours. “I wish I could. but hey, we’ll work it out.” He smiles reassuringly. “Just like you said, we can text, we can FaceTime, we can visit…”

Pushing your lips into a thin line, you nod. “R-Right. Yeah.”

Gently, he grabs your hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. “We'll make it work. We’re…” He pauses. You can’t pinpoint what in his eyes changes in the dark. “We’re best friends for a reason, remember?”

You sigh. “I… I guess.”

But was there a reason? Sure, you may have asked him if he wanted to be your friend when you first moved to the neighborhood, but you didn’t plan any of this. Nine-year-old you just needed a friend to ease your mother’s worries—you had no way to know what fate had in store for you two when you did get that friend.

Now Jeongin is way more than a friend to you. More than the awkward boy in an obnoxious purple sweater you met all those years ago. He's, to keep it short, home. And you don’t know if you can handle losing your way home a third time.

Maybe the reason was simply fate, because all of this—it just kind of happened. And now you’re stuck, unsure what to do next… or maybe you do.

You hesitate for one moment, then take a deep breath.

“But it— it’s more than that.”

You stare at your entwined hands, watching how Jeongin continues to caress the back of your hand with his thumb. Swallowing your nerves, you look up to catch his eyes.

Here goes nothing.

“Jeongin, I really don’t want this to mess up what we have, but I…” you pause. “I fell for you.”

You attempt to gauge his reaction. You can’t read the look in his eyes, but somehow, it urges you to keep going.

“I’m sorry this is so sudden,” you start again, your voice shaky, “it’s just— you’re such an important part of my life, you always have been.” You feel your eyes prick with tears. “And even when you were gone, I always found myself wanting to run back to you.”

You pause again, softly biting down on your lip as you struggle to swallow down your pounding heart. You take one more deep breath.

“It’s… it’s always been you, Jeongin.” Your voice cracks, a small whimper escapes your lips. Your eyes continue to well as the floodgates open in your heart, and you look down before you completely break. “I-I can’t lose you again.”

You attempt to blink your tears away, but a few manage to slide down your cheek, seeping into your pillow. Shaking your head, your lower lip quivers, and you choke out a sob.

“Y/N…”

Jeongin slips his hand out of yours and you try your best to calm your breathing. He slowly moves his hand up, gently brushing away a few stray hairs that stick to your face, and you look up at him through glassy eyes. Your vision blurs, but you sense a feeling of longing, an almost-bittersweet swirl of warmth and affection radiating from Jeongin as he gazes down at you.

As he moves to cup your cheek, wiping away a tear with the pad of his thumb, the sound of your pounding heart rings in your ears. The sensation seems to fade into the background when he begins to speak.

“I fell for you, too. I… I have been for years, actually.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at his words. He smiles tenderly at you as you sniffle, wiping away another tear.

“It’s always been you, too, Y/N, and I hate that it took so long to realize it,” he breathes out after another moment. "If anyone should be apologizing here, it’s me.”

“Jeongin…” you mumble, but he shakes his head firmly.

“I never should’ve left the first time without saying goodbye.” The boy sighs, remorse pooling in his eyes as they meet yours. “It— it hurt so much to think about, but leaving you like that hurt even more.” His gaze drifts down for a moment and he slips his free hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. Smiling lightly, he looks back up at you, his regrets replaced with a newfound conviction. “I’m not letting that happen again.”

A new sensation overwhelms you: one of relief, of euphoria. It fills the empty gaps in your chest, and causes the butterflies in your stomach to take flight. It’s as if you had been stranded at sea for years and finally found land, as if you had one puzzle piece left before everything seamlessly clicked into place. For the first time in years, everything feels right. Jeongin’s gaze, so sugary sweet like honey, makes you crave more.

His smile widens, causing yours to do the same. “I guess we have one more reason we have to make this work, then, right?”

A small giggle escapes you so quickly that you can’t even catch it. Jeongin catches the few tears—tears of happiness this time–that slip from your eyes, before pulling you into his embrace, fully immersing you in his warmth. You hug him back tightly, tucking your head into his shoulder and never wanting to let go.

“I love you, Jeongin,” you whisper.

You feel Jeongin press a light kiss to the top of your head. When he pulls away, he reaches a hand up, gently cradling the back of your head as he brushes his nose against your hair.

“I love you, too, Y/N.”

This image of you and Jeongin… all snuggled up, warm and safe in each other’s arms throughout the night... this feels right. This feels like home.

You’re home.

...to 25. (epilogue)

The bitter air churns around you as you step out of Jisung’s car, and you immediately regret not wearing a larger coat instead of just your cardigan. However, before you can pull it closer to you, you feel Jeongin slide his hand into yours, entwining your fingers together. Sighing contentedly, you lean into his shoulder and gaze up at him.

“You okay, there?” He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “I know I look dashing, but still.”

You scoff lightly. “‘M just cold, Jeongin.”

Smiling, he turns his head to face you, his breath warm against your ear.

“Okay, but try not to fall too hard for me, Miss Tuxedo Effect.”

Rolling your eyes, you use your free hand to hit his chest. “Shut up.”

His chuckles are like heaven in your ears. You want to hear more of it, even if it’s at your own expense. And you knew he was never going to let you live “tuxedo effect” down. Just like Jisung and his “sugarplum” ordeal, this was just another nickname you’d have to put under your belt—not that you minded much, not when you got to hear Jeongin laugh in the way he does.

Your attention gets brought back to him once you feel him squeeze your hand lightly. Your eyes linger on him and shift to the subtle light shining from your front porch. You notice how stiff he’s gotten, wide eyes staring blankly at your house like a deer in headlights.

“You okay?” you ask quietly, rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb.

He sighs and hesitantly nods. “Just… nervous.”

You smile. Following the events from last Christmas Eve, Jeongin moved into his new apartment close to his job at the end of January. By the beginning of summer, he and Jisung helped get you a job closer to him so you could move in with your now-boyfriend.

Despite having an extra month together after Christmas, neither of you exactly… broke it to your parents that you two got together. You don’t remember if it just slipped your minds or if you two wanted to surprise them, but either way, they’ll find out in just a few moments. Given your history with the Christmas party and Christmas as a whole, you both agreed there’s no better place to break the news.

Getting up onto your tippy-toes, you place the lightest kiss onto his cheek, but pull away far too quickly in Jeongin’s opinion. “It’ll be okay.” You squeeze his hand. “I’m right next to you.”

He glances at you, a smile playing at his lips. “Always?”

You hum, nodding. “Always.” Then you give him a quick once-over and huff, a grimace twisting your mouth. “But do you really need to wear that?”

Jeongin looks down at his outfit, and his smile slowly grows more bashful as he fixes the tie of his tuxedo. Meanwhile, you’re left to painstakingly replay the events from five minutes ago in your mind.

The scene itself mirrored the one from when you were sixteen: Jisung in the driver’s seat, you in the passenger seat, and Jeongin trying desperately hard to get changed in the backseat, Mariah Carey taunting him from the speakers. Every now and then, Jisung tried to push his luck by jolting the car forward.

It was all way too similar, except this time, there was no sneaking Jeongin out of the house. Also, there was really no need for an emergency tux this time around. Yet, somehow, Jisung still convinced him to put it on.

“I just want to make a good impression,” you hear Jeongin squeak out a moment later. You look back at him and he’s frantically smoothing out his suit jacket, and a light pink blush dusts his cheeks and the tips of his ears. You have to restrain yourself from smothering the boy with kisses at the sight.

“Babe, you already have a good impression,” you chuckle adoringly, “you grew up here, remember?”

Your boyfriend gazes at you with wide eyes, uncertainty glazing his features. You step closer to him, taking his hand in yours again.

“It’ll be okay,” you repeat, allowing Jeongin to lace your fingers together. “And Jisung did not need to bring the suit with us.”

“But it’s an emergency tux, Y/N,” Jeongin says. “You have to keep it around you in case you need it, it’s in the name!”

“This isn’t even a fancy emergency!”

“But Jisung said it’s a romantic one! That counts!”

You let out a deep sigh, but you can’t be too mad at Jisung for trying to help. “Fine, fine.” You wait a moment then wonder aloud, “Speaking of, when do you think Jisung will get back?”

Since Jisung still lives in town, he welcomed you both back to his apartment with open arms and, in true Jisung fashion, an excessive amount of babying. He had taken the liberty of not only driving two cities away to pick you two up (he claims he came for a job interview anyway—you don’t not believe him, but you think he also just missed you two), but also dropping you both off at your house before driving off to get coffee.

Jeongin shrugs. “Who knows? He does love his coffee.”

You chuckle fondly. “He’ll catch up later.”

Pulling Jeongin by the hand, you lead the way up the pavement and to the confines of your house.

Even though it hadn’t been long since you were last here, you missed it dearly. You also missed the way your house was now adorned with Christmas lights. Every year, your dad always seemed to outdo himself with putting up better and better lights. You are sure he had been planning it since last year, that maybe he had already started on next year’s lights, too.

When you walk through your front door, you’re met with the smell of cinnamon and sugar cookies. There’s light Christmas music in the air and everyone is scattered around, laughing, drinking, and having a merry time. Your mom and dad are nowhere to be seen—you assume they’re in the kitchen somewhere, checking on guests or snacks. You figure you’ll bump into them eventually.

You find countless familiar faces in the sea of people. You see old families that have lived in the neighborhood since before you moved here, families that you have come to view as part of your own. You spot the kids you grew up with; some who are freshly-turned teenagers, and others who have since grown up and started their own lives. You even see Yeonjun, sharing a drink with his girlfriend.

While it was awkward between you at first, you both came to terms with what you had and what you were. You two loved each other, but not in the way that the other wanted or needed. He was a memory, carved into you like stone, but a cherished one that you will hold deep in your heart.

Your eyes meet and you both smile instantly at the sight of each other. His eyes glance back at the boy beside you and you can see how he laughs, his smile growing wider. His eyes meet yours again, he nods his head and you nod yours.

There’s no need for spoken words. You’re both happy, and you’re both happy the other is happy. Everything you two went through, from your journeys together to your journeys apart, has led you to this moment.

Ultimate happiness.

Jeongin pulls your attention back to him, leading you through small groups of people, and you turn back one final time to send Yeonjun a smile. When you look back around to see where Jeongin is guiding you, you see his mom sitting at the dining table, munching away on some snacks on a paper plate.

She looks up with a bright smile; you’re sure it’s where Jeongin got his from. However, her smile soon melts into confusion at Jeongin’s peculiar outfit. Rising from her seat, she pulls her son into a hug.

“Hey, sweeties,” she hums, pulling away from Jeongin after a second, keeping her hands on his shoulders as she looks down at his ‘emergency tux’. “Why are you wearing a tux? It’s just the Christmas party.”

“I told you,” you mumble from beside him.

He huffs, pulling and lossing the tie around his neck. “I just… it’s dumb.”

“No, no,” you pout. “You look great, don’t worry about it.”

Chuckling, Jeongin runs a hand through his hair, his eyes landing on you as he smiles.

“Of course you’d say that, Miss Tuxedo Effect.”

Rolling your eyes, you mutter to yourself as Mrs. Yang giggles.

“Well, for whatever reason you’re wearing it,” Mrs. Yang pinches Jeongin’s cheek causing him to attempt to pull away. “You look very handsome, honey sweet.”

“T-Thanks, Mom.”

Pulling on Jeongin’s hand, you fish into your bag, pulling out a pair of black jeans and an almost-obnoxious shade of purple sweatshirt. Dubbing them an ‘emergency change of clothes’, you now know you were right to pack them.

“You packed spare clothes?” Jeongin asks as you shove them in his hands.

Humming, you nod your head. “Of course, I knew Jisung would try and fill your head with some foolish idea.”

“It wasn’t…” You cut him off with a look. He doesn't finish his sentence.

He puts the jeans over his arm, pulling the sweatshirt out to see. You almost fail to notice the way the tips of his ears, once again, turn pink as he smiles.

“I thought you hated this color,” he laughs.

Pushing him forward and in the direction of the stairs, you concede. “Eh, it grew on me. Now please change.”

Jeongin continues to laugh as he struggles against you. “I’m going, I’m going!”

When he comes down a mere five minutes later, the now-discarded tux in his hands, you can tell he’s far more comfortable than before. He leaves it on the couch and takes his place beside you once again, slipping his hand into yours. This time, you take the initiative to thread your fingers together.

A gasp leaves Mrs. Yang’s parted lips when she notes the way her son beams down at you. A warm glow seems to encircle him, and you can almost count the specks in his sparkly eyes when you look up. There’s nothing but affection swimming in his loved-up smile—just pure endearment for you.

“Did you two?” She watches you two with wide eyes.

You and Jeongin suddenly look away from each other. Bashfully, you let your gaze fall to the floor, and you feel a tinge of red tickle your ears, but you don’t bother to let his hand go.

He doesn’t, either. He just squeezes your hand lightly as he nods, letting out a shy giggle.

Mrs. Yang gasps again, her hands flying over her mouth. Like mother, like son.

“You did!”

Without warning, she springs up from her chair. “Oh, I have to go find your father, now!” she gushes, pulling Jeongin into a bone-crushing hug. When she lets go of your startled boyfriend, she turns to you, squeezing you tight. “And your parents, too!”

You let out an embarrassed chuckle as you hug her back. When you both part, Mrs. Yang turns on her heel and scurries to the kitchen.

Jeongin snaps his head towards you as his mother’s figure disappears into the crowd. His lips twitch up to an amused grin—it only grows wider when you match his expression.

You shake your head to yourself, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. You feel Jeongin’s hand snake around your back, and you let out an exasperated sigh as he pulls you into his own hug.

“Parents, am I right?” he comments. His other arm hooks snugly around your waist, bringing you in closer. You shake your head into the crook of his neck as your own arms go around the boy.

“If that’s how your mom reacts, imagine what mine’s gonna do,” you mumble into his skin.

For better or worse, you’re quickly proven right.

“Ohhh, look how cute!”

You know exactly what happens next without even moving your head. Your mother, amidst her endless gushing about how she’s been “waiting for this day for years!”, scrambles to pull her phone out of her pocket, making a beeline straight for the camera app. Her mouth is probably gaping up and down like a fish, and she’s most definitely shuffling around the crowded space for the best angle. If your and Jeongin’s fathers were dragged along, they do nothing to stop her (not that they could to begin with, but still).

You don’t need to look up to know, and you don’t want to. You’d much rather her not see how red your face is, anyway.

“Okay, don’t move!” your mother orders. “One, two…”

“Mom!” you whine, burrowing yourself further into Jeongin’s sweater.

As your mother fulfills her need for pictures, Jeongin’s giggles ring in your ears. You try to focus on that to will your embarrassment away.

“Are you done yet, Mom?” you speak after a moment. A pout forms on your lips when she tuts.

“Uh uh, I need more!”

“You don’t have enough yet?!”

“There’s never enough photos!” A hearty, teasing laugh leaves her throat, chiming over the music for a second. “You know this, sugarplum.”

“Wait, so that’s why Jisung calls you ‘sugarplum’?!” Jeongin questions. He almost pulls back to get a better look at you, but you grip onto him tighter before he has the chance.

“Yes, and that’s my sugarplum!” Another familiar voice cries out.

Stepping back from Jeongin, you turn to see Jisung standing there with a childish frown on his face. He holds a take-out cup in one hand, and lets go of a girl’s hand to point at Jeongin with the other.

Wait… who’s the girl? You’ll have to get back to that.

“You’re her boyfriend, call her ‘baby’ or ‘boo-boo’ or something,” he adds, exaggerating his pout. “I claimed ‘sugarplum’ years ago!”

You roll your eyes. Technically, your mother claimed it first, but you know she’ll let Jisung go.

“Please don’t call me ‘boo-boo’,” you say, blankly staring up at Jeongin. Instead of responding, he reaches a hand up to pinch your cheek.

“Aww, is someone blushing?” he coos.

You push his hand away with a whine, earning a giggle from him and both of your moms. “Not you, too!”

The girl next to Jisung leans over to him and whispers something in his ear. You aren’t sure what, but the boy responds to her with an “I told youuu,” a whimsical ring to his voice.

Jeongin glances at the girl, then at you, his face twisted in bewilderment. All you can respond with is a shrug.

“Ah,” Jisung pipes up, sensing your confusion, and he gestures to the brunette next to him. “This is Lia.”

She gives you all a small wave, quickly looking down and smoothing her maroon sweater with one hand. You all exchange greetings back, and Jisung continues, a sheepish smile on his face.

“We met during college, and, uh, I ran into her at the cafe just now.” The older boy scratches at the back of his neck, and a rosy glow rises to his cheeks. “She told me she just moved here, actually, and I figured I’d show her around… make her feel at home, you know?”

A warm smile paints your lips. You think of when you first moved here, how the community welcomed you and your family with open arms. Even if your grumpy nine-year-old self didn’t appreciate it, your twenty-five-year-old self couldn’t be more grateful. “You’re gonna love it here,” you say to Lia.

Lia smiles back, and she seems to relax at your words. “Thank you.”

“Oh, aaaand,” Jisung cuts in again after a moment. He tenderly takes Lia’s hand in his, sending her a bubbly, heart-eyed grin as he swings their hands between them.

“Do you really have to open with this?” Lia says softly.

“Yes, I do!” Jisung squeaks, his voice jumping higher than normal. “They’ll get it, trust me!”

He glances hopefully at you and Jeongin, his eyes wide and bright. The two of you exchange confused looks with each other. What could he be talking about?

A second later, it clicks. Why else would Jisung be hopping up and down so eagerly, about ready to jump out of his hoodie any minute now?

“Don’t tell me you met during—” you begin.

“During the first snow!” Jisung finishes your sentence in a singsong. He tapers off with a dreamy sigh, and his eyes seem to sparkle more when they land back on an embarrassed Lia.

“He just means the second time around,” she clarifies with an awkward cough. “The first time was during spring.”

Your first instinct is to roll your eyes at your friend’s ongoing infatuation with the snow, but a fond chuckle takes its place. You had stayed up many nights talking with Jisung when you lived with him, the two of you sprawled out like starfish on your kitchen floor as you shared thoughts about the future, the simultaneous excitement and uncertainty of it all. If there was one thing Jisung was firm on, it was his hope that he’d meet The One during the first snow of winter, that the twinkling little snowflakes would be his guiding star to his person.

“Love at first snow,” was what he called it, “…you know, like you and Jeongin.” As much as you found the phrase irritating at the time, you never bothered to correct him.

But of course, it’s one thing to have hopeless romantic fantasies, and another to have them come to life. It’s kind of endearing, maybe heartwarming in a weird little-sister-figure way, to observe Jisung’s increasingly lovestruck daze as he relives the recent memory—you can practically see the hearts dancing around his head. But that’s not the point right now.

So this is the girl Jisung always texted you about during college.

You recall countless conversations about how pretty and smart and sweet she was, and even more of him blowing up your phone at three in the morning for date ideas (“the more aesthetic, the better! :D”). Even though he successfully asked her out, he still never let it go that they never saw the first snow together before they broke up.

Despite her embarrassment, Lia seems to mirror Jisung’s loved-up smile. From what he told you, they parted ways on good terms—something about both of them graduating soon and having different mindsets, he said, but they both agreed to stay friends. But something tells you that, even after all this time, they’re still on the same page about the first snow… and maybe some other matters, too.

You can see it in their eyes: the feverish look that makes their irises shimmer as they gaze at each other, the almost-overwhelming amount of affection that swims in their pupils and makes the corners of their lips twist up. You recognize it all too well—it’s the exact same way you used to look at Jeongin. Every once in a while, you still catch yourself doing it.

It’s nothing but fate, at this point, when you notice faint white pellets of snow are still hitting the window in your peripheral. An overjoyed smile of your own quickly overtakes your features, and when you look up at Jeongin, it seems like he’s thinking the same thing as you.

With an infectious giggle, Jeongin grabs your hand, but you sharply turn to Jisung and Lia before he can pull you away. Your boyfriend's small whines fall on deaf ears, and he childishly tugs at your hand as you try to get the lovebirds’ attention.

“Hey, do you wanna go see the magic snow or not?” you call out, half-teasingly and half-genuinely.

In a snap, Jisung’s lovesick daze flips into a triumphant smile as he turns to you. “So you admit it’s magic?!”

You roll your eyes, giving Jeongin’s hand a quick squeeze to calm his impatience. “I needed to get your attention somehow,” you say, “but just this once, I’ll admit it.”

The way your friend seems to light up like a Christmas tree is enough to make you give in. You do owe him for his stunt last year, after all—you’re more than happy to let him have this one.

“Now, do you want to go see the snow or not?” you ask after another moment, a small smile etched on your lips.

“Of course I want to see the snow!” Jisung chirps.

As he looks to Lia for her response, his puppy-love daze making a return, you allow yourself to take in your surroundings. The warmth teeming around you from the Christmas party is one that never gets old, no matter how many times you come, and no matter how long you’re gone. It brings a wave of peace to your heart, even as a couple of screaming children run a lap around you and your friends.

Your chipper boyfriend begins to pull you to the front door with him, making you lose your step for a second, and you find yourself meeting Yeonjun’s eyes from across the house one more time. Before you lose sight of him, you nod to the window several feet away from him, sending him a wink to him before you turn around. Even if you weren’t meant to be his love at first snow, the least you can do is make sure he got his.

By the time you look away, Jeongin has already pulled you both to the front door, Jisung and Lia already dressed and waiting for you two. Hastily, he throws on his coat before he scrambles through the pile of shoes by the doormat to find his own pair.

You’re about to do the same, then you realize…

“Right, I forgot my—”

“Your jacket?” Jisung calls out. Without another word, he digs into his backpack and tosses you the coat you left behind at his apartment earlier. You slip it on with a relieved smile, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before getting your shoes on and swinging the door open for all four of you.

Soft, puffy snowflakes dot the ground around you as you begin your stroll down the sidewalk. You hear Jisung and Lia’s musings behind you, but they fade into a quiet buzz as all the memories from your childhood flash before your eyes. The houses you pass by are ones you used to see everyday on the way home from school, and the sidewalks are ones you used to run around on during the weekends. You never would’ve thought you’d be back now, reliving it all with the people you love most.

It gets even better, though, when Jeongin nudges your shoulder, and points to a grassy area coming up ahead. You follow his finger and gasp, immediately recognizing the spot.

Reaching for his hand, you break into a sprint and pull the boy with you to the neighborhood park, the two of you almost tripping due to the slippery snow. The park is almost the exact same as it was when you first moved. Some parts had been upgraded over time, whereas others still seemed heavily used and loved by the younger children around the neighborhood.

Your eyes glaze around the small park and you could almost see a vision of nine-year-old you, standing near your mother as she pushes you to speak to the other children—to make some new friends. You could practically see nine-year-old Jeongin hanging upside-down from the monkey bars, adorned in that now less-obnoxious purple sweater.

You wonder what nine-year-old you would think if she saw where you are now, with Jeongin’s hand wrapped tightly around your own. You wonder what she’d have to say about the way your cheeks tickled pink, not only from the cold, but also from the way Jeongin’s gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, and the way his lips tugged into a soft smile whenever you looked back at him.

Tugging lightly on Jeongin’s hand, you lead the both of you over towards the monkey bars, his whines falling on deaf ears as you drop his hand from your grasp to climb up the metal bars. Once you’re sat down in the most comfortable position you can, the cold metal sending shivers down your spine, you beckon Jeongin to join you.

“Sit with me.” You smile down at him, one hand keeping you steady as the other makes grabby hands in Jeongin’s direction.

Jeongin huffs. “But it’s so cold.”

However, his words fall short when he still begrudgingly makes the small climb up. He lets his legs dangle through the holes, his knees knocking against your own lightly.

A gust of cold air causes you to shiver and as a response, you pull your coat closer to you. This seems to make Jeongin chuckle fondly, and you feel his eyes linger on you for a second before he looks out at the horizon. The falling snowflakes glisten under the remnants of the sunlight, and the holiday lights emit a breathtaking glow. You’re both still not tall enough to see much above the houses in front of you, but that’s okay—you know what lies beyond it.

“You know, I never thought we’d be back here,” you mumble. A giggle escapes you as you watch the stars slowly make their appearance above you.

Jeongin has a giggle of his own as something on the monkey bars catches his eye. “I can’t believe it’s still here,” he continues to laugh, causing you to redirect your gaze.

“What do you mean?”

He runs his fingers lightly over the faded black ink scrawled across the top of the monkey bars.

Y/N and Jeongin, 2010.

“No way,” you gasp, trying your best to lean over to see it better without falling. “I thought they replaced the park equipment years ago.”

Looking up at you, Jeongin smiles. “Obviously not all of it.”

He fishes around in his pocket for a second and before you can question anything, he pulls out a black marker pen and unclips the lid.

“What are you–”

Your sentence goes unfinished, however, when he leans over and adds a small section under his own nine-year-old handwriting.

And forevermore.

Your heartstrings are played like a violin as you watch Jeongin cap the pen back up, a pleased smile etched on his lips. When he finally comes back to reality, noticing your gaze, he shrugs.

“What?” he says. “Had to add it and make it official.”

“We’ve been official for a year, I don’t think the monkey bars would mind.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes, a chuckle escaping him. “What if some kids read it? Surely, they’ll love to know the story has a happy ending?”

If you weren’t afraid of falling, you would have jumped on him, showering his face in the most kisses possible. However, for both his and your safety, you opt for words instead.

“I love you,” you breathe, beaming at him. You’ve never said anything more true in your life.

His smile mirrors your own. “I love you too.”

You look back at the sky as Jeongin shoves his pen and hands back in his pockets, the dopey grin on your face growing wider, if that was even possible. Another giggle escapes you when you feel a drop of snow hit your nose. This is everything to you—it’s ultimate happiness.

But there’s one thing missing.

“I can’t believe I forgot,” you say, your gaze falling back down.

Raising an eyebrow, he looks at you in curiosity. “Yeah?” he responds, and you stare back with a cheeky smile.

“Stay for Christmas?”

Jeongin shakes his head, but his giggles still fill your ears, sending your heart into shockwaves of emotions, like the ripples after a stone hitting the water. The tips of his ears as well as his cheeks glow pink under the streetlight that has just flicked on. You can’t tell if it’s from the cold or from you, but you wish for it to be the latter.

“You know you don’t have to say that anymore, right?” Jeongin asks, gazing at you with a look that makes it hard to catch a breath.

“I know,” you exhale, “but it’s basically tradition now, it’s a must.”

“Well, tradition or not…” Jeongin begins. He slips his hand from out of his pocket to grab and entwine your fingers with his own. His heat seeps into you as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. “…I’m here to stay.”

He uses his other hand to tap lightly on the recently-added handwriting, his words echoing around in your ears. “Forevermore.”

Your eyes are all soft and sparkly as you smile at him, giving his hand a squeeze before letting the air around you fall silent. A contented sigh escapes your parted lips, forming a faint puff in the cold air as you watch the fluffy, white crystals above you flutter down.

Jeongin started off as a mere stranger, nothing but the awkward boy in an ugly sweater. Sixteen years later, he’s sitting with you atop the same monkey bars upon which you two met as so much more. He’s your best friend, your childhood playmate, your built-in Mario Kart partner. He’s your teenage crush, your love at first snow, your stay for Christmas—and all that only you two know it entails.

Perhaps, most important of all, Jeongin is home. And as long as you have Jeongin, you’ll always know your way back.

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act-novel · 2 years

Text

Development Notes #3 | First Layer, Two Weeks Later

Note: This post was originally published on act-novel.itch.io on March 14th, 2023. It has been carried over to this blog for posterity.

Hello, this is Garrett Thompson, sole member of Act-Novel.

At this time of writing, it has been two weeks since Version 1 of Reality Layer Zero was uploaded to itch.io. I think now is a good time to go over how the game's been doing in that period, and how the development of the second layer is progressing in the meantime.

- Lead-up to Release -

Oh no!

The night before February 28th (the day I declared would be the release day for the first layer in the previous Development Notes entry), I uncovered a number of late-breaking issues with the then-release-candidate build. Specifically, I found four critical issues in three separate corners of the code. Two of the four were related to the deck editor (pictured above), one was related to the "continue" option on the main menu (you couldn't select "continue" if you only had an autosave file saved-- clearly a bug!), and one was related to the end-of-layer savegame prompt (which would save your game... and then promptly crash it if you had more "cleared" save files than "in-progress" save files on your hard drive).

I was up pretty late fixing all of those the night they turned up. As I'll mention later, this wasn't quiiiite the extent of the "critical errors" in version 1... But it was pretty close, I think.

- Release Day -

It's been a while since I last uploaded a project to itch (hey, what could this be?), but fortunately the actual deployment process isn't too complicated. I basically just zipped the game files, pointed Butler at 'em, and that was that. In retrospect, I may have zipped too many files-- most of the game's music is actually in the deployed zip archive twice-- once in the packed "data" file (which the game actually uses) and once in an external "Audio/music" folder (which... I'm pretty sure doesn't even get looked at by the game code, but which you can use to listen to outside of the game... y'know, if you want to...) Since this makes the zip file bigger than it needs to be, it may be necessary to remove the external audio in later updates-- both to avoid scaring people off with a large initial download and to potentially get around having to ask itch directly for more upload space (not that I think they wouldn't grant me that, just out of courtesy).

The actual day of release was a mostly-quiet affair. Most of the traffic the game page saw was from the post I made on the itch community forums, and from links I sent to various friends and acquaintances who did not participate in the Steam beta. For day 1, I was fine with this, since I mostly just wanted to sleep and not think about Reality Layer Zero too much. In the coming days, though...

- In the coming days, though... -

Ded. (Suspiciously-cropped graph?)

For the first five days following release, Reality Layer Zero garnered 87 page views and 10 downloads. 2 of those downloads were both me, downloading the game on different machines to make sure the files were uploaded successfully, and at least two others were from people who I know directly, so really it was more like 6 downloads. Now, while that's not zero, it was less than half of the number of people who participated in the Steam beta test. Aside from being a bit disappointed at having made something ostensibly unpopular, I was also skeptical that the practical purpose of the itch release-- which was to hopefully catch errors before releasing the first layer into the wild as a Steam demo-- would be successfully fulfilled.

So basically I stared posting to Reddit. This is sort of bad etiquette on my part, since I'm not very active on Reddit and a lot of my post history is, well, posting about my other projects-- but I followed the rules otherwise and generally posted high-effort content (either custom video edits or, in the case of r/games, an appropriately-formatted and tagged self-post), and in short, nobody seemed to mind too much.

This started to drive some traffic toward the Reality Layer Zero itch page. Not a lot, just some. The click-through-rate was *very* low from Reddit to Itch, but pageviews and downloads both were undeniably better than on previous days. On both March 6th and March 8th, Reality Layer Zero was downloaded nine times, and for all other days in the period between the 5th and the 11th, between one and three times. In a less confusing way of putting that, 12 days after launch, the game had garnered 45 downloads and 446 pageviews. At this point, I considered things were doing alright.

- Patching, Continued Development -

Technically, this isn't a gameplay spoiler since this guy actually got moved since this screenshot was taken!

During this period of sustained promotion, a player was kind enough to bring a crash in the deck editor to my attention. This was the other critical error I alluded to earlier in this post. I'm pretty sure Paulby knew about me from the Applewood days, so I'm not sure if I can chalk this event up as a direct consequence of the promotion or not, but it was nevertheless precisely the thing I wanted to see-- well, perhaps not "wanted", per-se, but, uh... It's the second-best possible outcome! (the first being, of course, the mythical bug-free program) This, as well as several other errors and quality-of-life issues, were addressed in Reality Layer Zero's first patch.

Also during this period, I found some time to start working on the art for the second layer. It took about five days, but I completed illustrations for all of the newly-obtainable argument cards currently planned for that layer. For card illustrations, the actual "illustration" part doesn't take *thaaaat* much time (due to the small canvas size), but figuring out an aesthetically-pleasing and thematically-appropriate composition can be quite time-consuming (and exhausting to boot). I'm looking forward to sharing these illustrations with players-- potentially you!-- when the second layer releases.

I have also-- as of Sunday, anyway-- started back into character design and character art production. I would have liked to get started on this earlier in the month, but the demands of patching and post-release promotion caused me a bit of a delay. I'd estimate I'm about a week behind schedule versus where I'd be if I had not released anything. That... is honestly not a big deal.

So, all-told, what are we looking at? 50-ish downloads, one patch, and development progressing reasonably-smoothly on the second layer? In other words, not an amazing release, but a decently-productive one. A real workmanlike release. That was going to be my conclusion for this Development Notes entry... until Monday, that is!

- Rocket Fuel?? -

The full, uncropped graph.Gamecube startup jingle.

Starting on Monday of this week (March 13th, precisely yesterday) I noticed a change in views and downloads-- specifically an upward trajectory, seemingly out of nowhere. For a moment, I considered the possibility that Itch had frontpaged the game, but that wasn't what happened (not that I'd complain if it did).

The best I can tell, the promotion I did on Reddit over the week leading up to Monday had an accumulatory effect on Reality Layer Zero's popularity ranking on Itch, and on Monday it finally boiled over to the point where people simply browsing popular games (both in genre tags like Card Game and in the general "popular games" section) would reasonably, and in tangible quantities, stumble upon the game and chance a click. Or at least that's the story that the analytics seem to tell.

Another Reddit post (not made by me this time) was made during this period, but as far as I can tell had less of an impact than just the ambient traffic from the browse feature.

For a brief time-- possibly even now-- Reality Layer Zero actually surpassed games you've definitely heard of, like Deltarune and OneShot, in sitewide popularity. That's kind of nutty! It... probably won't stay that way for long! My prediction is that the game simply doesn't have a large-enough, dedicated-enough audience to sustain that level of interest for an extended period. I'd love to be wrong, of course, but for now I'm considering this just a temporary win.

Today has likewise been a pretty good day for traffic, although not as strong as Monday. Interest will... probably gradually return to baseline noise as the week continues. Hey, at least it was cool to watch this all happen in real time.

- Future Work -

Aaaagh, DirectX!!

Thanks to the efforts of my irreplaceable friends doing some testing that I'd be unable to do on my own, it seems that a VRAM bottleneck has been discovered in the current build. This might not be true for all GPU's with similar specs, but it seems that 2GB VRAM DDR3's on systems running Windows 10 will struggle to run the game-- and crash in exterior scenes-- with odds being good that it's due to lack of available memory. As it stands, it might be the case that at least a 3GB VRAM card is needed to run the current build-- or else one of those fancy "flexible memory" cards (e.g. the Intel Iris Xe) that I honestly don't know that much about. I'm going to try to optimize down to the 2GB DDR3 target-- my gut feeling is that a card with 2GB of VRAM ought to be able to run my simple 3D pixel game, so I probably just messed up somewhere. If you're currently rocking a 2GB card, sit tight! Hope hasn't died out for you! If you're working with even less... Well, dang.

- Conclusion -

It's been an eventful two weeks. Getting some attention after all of this time working in relative obscurity was a nice little reward for tolerating the many release-window annoyances that cropped up during this period. Although I'd still say "real" development has slowed down a little bit, it hasn't been by too much. While it's still too early to say whether the new players "like" the game or not, I have seen some good early signs...

I don't even know this guy! Probably!

Anyway, it's back to working on the second layer for me. In the meantime, why not try out the first layer for yourself if you haven't yet? You can also listen to the game's soundtrack on YouTube, if that's what you're about.

Thank you very much for reading!

#gamedev #indie games #indiedev #itch.io #release #development notes #technical #reality layer zero

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bogkeep · 2 years

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there is a new philosophytube video about Interpretation Of Art and it's so so up my alley - like, hi, i studied art history and took a class in art philosophy, I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS the thing about Art that it's such a rich and meaty topic that it's impossible to cover everything about it. i'm probably one of the most obnoxious people to discuss the question of "what is art" with, i've had so many non-artists try to trip me up with "oh i know exactly how to define art" and it's like, trust me, if you can find a way to succinctly include everything You Personally consider art and exclude everything You Personally Don't, i'll give you a medal, otherwise you've just activated my ted talk powerpoint trap card. that's a discussion for another day, is what i'm saying. just because i literally went to university for this doesn't mean i know how to analyse art very well, nor am i an authority on Art Opinions. it's more like, i've given this a lot of thought from a lot of angles, and the TLDR is as usual, IT'S COMPLEX, IT'S CONTEXTUAL, IT'S SUBJECTIVE, IT'S GOING TO DIFFER FROM PERSON TO PERSON ARTWORK TO ARTWORK. i'd just like to continue the discussion, is all! the way i see it, every piece of art exists in as many ways as there are people engaging with it. yes, the artist's intent, skill and circumstance shaped it into what it is, but an artist cannot control how an audience will engage with their piece. you can possibly make an argument that if many people take a completely different message away from your work than what you intended, you've done a bad job of conveying it. i do think there's something to it, that so much of a creative craft is knowing how to successfully achieve the effect you desire. but then again, how does the most skilled craftsman in the world measure against Really Really Bad Reading Comprehension? bad reading comprehension exists for sure, but i also believe, that whatever version of a work someone has in their head is real to them. it's an interpretation that exists in some form, and there's nothing you can do about it. does it make it a good or a valid reading? who's to say, but it sure is a reading. if i've listened to a song for twenty years of my life without knowing what the lyrics were supposedly about, does that nullify those twenty years of what that song meant to me? I don't think so. if a writer creates a character that is autistic in everything but name but never realizes that's what they've written, does that invalidate every autistic reader that will connect and relate to them? if something made you laugh or cry or realize something about yourself, how is that experience unimportant? every artwork was created within the context of the artist, who they are, when they live, where they live, and all of it shapes their intent and their work. but everyone engaging with the work comes from their own context, everyone bring their own experiences to the table. everyone has lived their own life, you know? we all hold different knowledge. i also think a really big thing that doesn't get talked about enough is just, it's a big world, there's so many different cultures out here, and what you think is objective is probably not as objective as you think, because we're all soaked in the biases of our own cultures and our homes and the people we surround ourselves with. by whose standards do you judge art? we are not clean slates and art is a two way street. art affects reality and reality affects art, it's not some other dimension separate from the reality we live in. it's the thoughts and expressions of human beings alive in the world past and present. is there really just one correct way to engage with it all, is that not too narrow of a scope? look around you. you won't understand everything, you won't have opinions on everything, you won't connect to everything, you won't come from the right angle to everything. you might change your mind later or maybe never at all. sometimes though, sometimes things will hit you right at the right time, sometimes it just speaks to you, and that's an experience that's yours. y'know?

#too long for twitter #[dril voice] theres no difference between good and bad etc etc #i liked the video a lot!!! it just has no chance of covering Everything when it's such a big topic and such a short video. relatively #this is just me throwing another two cents at the ground because im VERY PASSIONATE ABOUT ART CAN YOU TELL IM PASSIONATE ABOUT ART #also i had to turn off the beta post editor to post this at all so that's weird

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novastories · 2 years

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On This Cold December Night

Title and chapter inspired the song “My Song For You” by Bridgit Mendler and Shane Harper.

Summary: Christmas looks a bit different this year for Aurora.

Disclaimer: This story is fictitious. All works are written by me and only posted here. Please do not copy, repost, or plagiarize on any other platform without my permission!

Warnings: Mild language? Mentions of a car accident? A bit of angst and fluff!

Wordcount: 8.2k

A/N: We have a Christmas chapter for once! These chapters get longer and longer every time I write a new one, so I hope you enjoy it! Made the moodboard myself! Like usual, timeline and ages are changed to fit the story, not the movies. Some of these storylines/backgrounds are based on what I write or imagine for my Top Gun DR. Thanks to my beta reader and editor @reginleight for putting up with this long chapter!

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Aurora always adored Christmas at the Bradshaw’s. Not only did she get to spend time with her family, but also the snow. She loves San Diego, but there was always something about the cold and snow in Virginia that she loved just a bit more, especially it being Christmas. But this year was a bit different.

She was glad that Christmas break was here, but she was not looking forward to going to Virginia for once. She didn’t want to have to tell Bradley about her semester, when he himself was already having a great last year of high school. She especially did not want to tell her dad what had gone down either. This year, they were meeting him in Virginia as he had just gotten back from another deployment and took time off to spend Christmas with them. Her mom and stepfather were staying in San Diego as they had baby Amelia to take care of, the little girl having already turned three. With that being the case, the two wouldn’t be able to make the flight this year to Virginia with the twins. That and the fact that their dad and stepfather did not get along.

While packing for the trip that she and her brother would soon be leaving to the airport for, Aurora’s mother steps into the twins' shared room. Her brother, Peyton had already packed and was hanging out with his friends before they were to leave.

“Almost done packing?” Penny asks from the door frame.

“Yeah, almost,” Aurora replies, stacking the last few items in her suitcase, before moving onto her backpack for the smaller stuff. While her daughter continues packing, Penny surveys the room a little, her eyes landing on a particular corner when she spots the broken fragments of a picture frame.

“You know, it may have been better to just throw the frame out rather than leaving the broken pieces for someone else to clean up in here,” Penny says, moving into the room to go pick up said pieces.

“What, is that supposed to be a metaphor or something?”

Penny sighs and throws the frame in the trash.

“Look, I get your upset and I get how you feel,” Penny empathizes, coming closer to Aurora. “But going to the Bradshaws will make you feel a lot better. And soon you’ll forget all about what happened and come back feeling better, and be stronger from it.”

“Yeah because hanging out with Bradley and his new girlfriend will be so fun,” Aurora replies sarcastically, throwing her laptop in her bag along with the charging cable.

“Apparently they broke up,” Penny shrugs, recounting what she’d been told “She wants to go to college without a boyfriend so she broke up with Bradley before Christmas so she wouldn’t have to wait until graduation. Carole said he was heartbroken but he cheered up when he heard you were going over there for Christmas.”

Aurora was silent as she sat on her bed.

“And at least now you’ll be able to see and talk to him.”

“Yeah well that makes one of us, because he hasn’t been my friend in a long time ever since he met precious Dakota.”

“You and I both know that’s not true.”

“Tell that to all the empty letters and the short phone calls he’s made to me. Every call or letter he wouldn’t stop going on and on about her and how she was the most perfect girl for him.”

“Rory...”

“No, I'm tired of talking about Bradley,” Aurora sighs. “I just want to get this trip over with and spend time with Peyton and dad.”

Penny sits on the bed next to her daughter and hugs her from the side. It’s enough to make one, solitary tear escape from Aurora’s glassy eyes before she could furiously brush it away.

“I’m sorry we can’t spend Christmas together.” Penny speaks, momentarily after seeing Aurora fighting to keep tears at bay. She felt guilty for not being there for her daughter as much as she should be.

“Mom, it’s okay. You definitely made up for it with the ukulele you brought me and the new journal, trust me.

“That doesn't mean I don’t feel guilty.”

“And you shouldn’t have to.”

“But I do.” Penny turns to face her daughter. “Ever since we’ve had Amelia, I feel like I haven’t been involved with your life when I should be.”

“It’s okay. I understand. Peyton even understands. I’m just glad we got to do a small Christmas dinner last night. And got to open our gifts.” Aurora turns to her mom and smiles at her brightly. Penny laughs and pauses to take a look at her daughter.

“You know every time you laugh and smile, you remind me so much of your dad.”

Aurora pauses at the sentence. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a wonderful thing,” Penny reassures her daughter. “That just means you are more and more like your father, which can be a scary thing, but you have the best qualities of him.”

“Like?”

“Like how strong you are, how you’re able to go through problems and either fix it or fight your way through it. A bit stubborn but I think you get that from both of us,” Penny admits.

They laugh and soon Aurora looks at her clock and realizes that she and her brother were leaving soon.

“I have to finish packing mom.”

“I know. I just wanted to come in and see if you needed anything. I’m glad we talked a bit before you leave,” Penny smiles, fondly pushing back some of Aurora’s hair.

“Yeah me too,” Aurora says, returning the smile.

“When you come back, we’ll go out shopping and we can talk more, okay? Just a girl’s day. Me and you.”

“That sounds great, mom. Thank you.”

Penny gets up to leave, but she pauses at the doorway. She turns to look back at Aurora with one last thing to say.

“Just when you see Bradley, hear him out first before shutting him down. You know he wouldn’t mean to hurt you.”

Aurora pauses at her words.

“We’ll see mom. We’ll see.”

—

When Aurora and Peyton had touched down in Norfolk airport, their dad greeted them with a big hug, and soon they were in the car, on the way to the Bradshaw’s. Peyton sat up front with their dad, talking about school, while Aurora sat in the back, looking out the window with her headphones on. Maverick throughout the trip tried to include her in it, but only got one word answers or was ignored. He knew something was wrong but didn't want to push her. He didn’t know about anything that happened at school, but Aurora knew she would have to talk to him soon before Penny said anything to him. They arrived at the Bradshaw’s in a manner of time, and as soon as Maverick put his car in park, Goose and Carole were already outside on the porch waiting for them.

“Uncle Goose!” cries out Peyton as he rushed into Goose’s awaiting arms.

“Oh my gosh, Pey you’ve grown tall! Unlike your father.” Goose jabs at Maverick. Peyton was already past Maverick’s height, 5 feet and 9 inches.

“Hey, I’ll have you know my height is just fine.”

“That’s what old men say nowadays ‘ey?”

Maverick and Goose start a bit of a shoving match while Peyton hugs Carole and Aurora just now getting out of the car. Her face is neutrally void of any emotion.

“Hey, little star!” Goose spots her. Uncle Goose had given her the nickname ‘little star’ in reference to her namesake, the Aurora Borealis. He started calling her that ever since he realized how much she loved stargazing and constellations.

“Come give your uncle a hug, or do you think you're too cool for me? Because I’ll have you know I’m very cool!”

“That’s what old men say nowadays ‘ey?” Maverick retorts back at Goose. Goose sticks out his tongue while Aurora slightly chuckles as she goes to hug her Uncle Goose.

“Don’t worry, we love you even if you are short, your dad on the other hand,” Goose whispers in her ear, Aurora biting back a smile. Aurora was not gifted with height like her father, as she stood at 5 feet exactly.

Goose gave her an extra squeeze before she went to hug Carole.

“Are you alright, angel?” Carole whispers in her ear. Aurora just nods and steps out of her arms, following along as they all begin to head inside the house.

“So where’s Bradley? It’s not like him to miss the twins’ homecoming?” Maverick asks as the twins come back into the kitchen after putting luggage away, now having separate rooms since they were older. Bradley was not one to be late with his best friends coming back to the East Coast, let alone not be there to greet them.

“Oh he went to go see his girlfriend, well I guess ex. He went to try and win her back. Emphasis on try,” Goose says rolling his eyes, showing obvious signs that Goose did not like this girl.

“But not without leaving homecoming presents for you two!” Carole exclaims excitedly gesturing to the items that were set behind her.

On the table was another Lego set for Peyton, one in which he was hunting for and didn’t have, and a flower bouquet. Carole explained that Bradley told them that these weren’t their actual Christmas gifts but wanted to give them something like he normally does when they’d visit. Unlike the usual tradition, however, he wasn’t there to give them in person this time. Peyton immediately goes over to pick up the Lego set and is rambling on about the set while Aurora approaches the table to look at the bouquet of flowers.

They were red roses and white tulips. They stood out and made the room shine brighter with its Christmas colors, but Aurora knew what they meant. Forgiveness. Aurora and Bradley knew the different meanings of flowers, thanks to Carole who tells them all about it. White tulips to make amends with someone who is important to you, red roses to help express affection of said amends and forgiveness. There was a note on it simply saying “Sorry I wasn’t there to greet you. Had important things to do.” It causes Aurora to roll her eyes and scoff at the note and flowers, walking out of the kitchen in a huff. Everyone turns just in time to see her leave.

“What’s wrong with her? She usually loves the flowers Bradley gives her.” Carole asks, concerned.

“Maybe she’s allergic to flowers now.”

Carole smacks Goose on the head for his antics.

“She’s been like that for a while.” Peyton responds, not looking in anyone’s eyes as he pretends to be interested in a scuff mark on the table he was sitting at.

“Why?” Mav says, concerned for his daughter.

“She wants to tell you. So I’m not saying anything.”

“Is this about the fight that happened in school?

“A fight?” Both Carole and Goose said in unison.

“I’m not saying anything until you talk to her. I’ve learned that Aurora will say something when she wants to. Right now. It’s best to leave her alone.”

—

Aurora sits on the front porch swing watching the snow fall slowly to the ground. She had so much emotions pent up inside her. She was angry at Bradley, upset with everything that had happened at school. Sad she’s not at home with her mom and sister. But she was also happy that she was in Virginia to spend time with her brother, father, aunt and uncle. She knew she had a lot of emotions trapped in her. But most of all, she felt numb. It was hard to describe the feeling, that she felt so many emotions that it left her numb. Her face said it all, ice cold. If her Uncle Ice saw her expression, he would say she looked like him.

She had her headphones in as she was listening to music and watching the snow fall to the ground until she saw a car approach the Bradshaw’s driveway. She knew whose car it was. The one person she absolutely did not want to see.

After parking, Bradley had gotten out of the car heading towards the house, face down as he was distracted with his phone. Aurora could see he had grown almost the same height as his dad. His hair was a bit shaggy, but wasn’t too long. He was a bit more built, she knew that was probably due to baseball training. As much as she wanted to run up and hug him, she just couldn’t. So instead, she opted for waiting, watching what his next steps would be.

His shoes finally hitting the steps leading up to the house, Bradley did eventually look up, face lighting up noticing his best friend on the swing.

“Well hey there princess!” Bradley brightly greets as he approaches her, arms open wide expecting her to get up and hug him. She looks at him and gets up, taking the headphones out of her ear. She walks to him, but then passes by him to reach the front door and go inside the house, closing it and leaving Bradley standing in shock. Did his best friend just act like he didn’t exist? She didn’t even hug him or even say hi. She just got up and left?

Bradley, who was still frozen in shock at what had happened, finally rushes into the house to look for her.

“Hey Rory!” Bradley calls. He spies her walking up the stairs to go to her room, he was about to go after her until a head peeks out from the kitchen.

“Oh, good! You’re home Brad Brad!” Goose cries out. “Come say hi to Peyton and Mav.” Bradley looks at his dad, then looks back to the stairs. Goose shakes his head and gestures to the kitchen silently telling him to get his butt in the kitchen and not to run after Aurora. Bradley sighs and walks into the kitchen, knowing he’ll be trying to talk to her later.

—

A few hours later, Aurora peaks out her door. It was getting close to dinner time, but she knew she still had another hour or so until then. Bradley had come to her door multiple times during the course of that time knocking, pleading with her to let him in so they could talk, thinking that the only reason Aurora was mad at him was because he wasn’t there to greet them. Little did he know that was the least of his worries. He kept trying to get her to open the door, but Aurora put her headphones in and just ignored him while she was reading her book. After some time passed, Bradley grew tired and instead hung out with Peyton. Aurora, after hearing the knocks had stopped, realized this might be the best time to go talk to her dad since she knew he was probably working on something in the garage. So in a swift manner Aurora came out of her room and quickly ran to the garage before anyone could see her.

“Oh hey little star,” A voice calls out as she enters the garage. She looks and sees not her father, but her Uncle Goose.

“Oh, sorry Uncle Goose. I thought dad was in here.”

“Nah, he went on a shopping run for your Auntie Carole. He said something to piss her off again and now he gets to pay the price.” Goose says to which Aurora laughs softly at.

“Oh well. Sorry to bother you, I’ll just head back-“

“Well wait a minute, come sit. Let me just finish this up and I’ll be yours in a bit.” He says with a wink and gestures to the couch that was set in the corner of his garage. Aurora tries to protest but is given a look that tells her that she shouldn’t argue with him.

She sighs and goes towards the area. The couch was set up next to two sofa chairs with a sort of memorabilia wall set up behind it. It was similar to something she’d seen back at her father’s apartment, a little living space he’d rented for when he was staying in San Diego. Her dad usually either stays there or at the Bradshaw’s when he’s not on deployment.

A wall covered with pictures, patches, and awards. She looks through it and easily spots a photo with the graduating Top Gun class of 1986, easily able to pick out her dad, uncle, and even her honorary Uncle Ice. Aurora lightly brushes the photo before looking at the rest on the wall.

She spots her dad in a lot of photos, as well as Carole and Bradley, but there was one photo that stuck out in general that she had to take into her hands in order to see the full picture. It was a photo of her and Bradley when they first met, they were hand in hand and sat on top of a piano. Aurora vaguely remembers the moment she met her best friend and smiles at the photo until she remembers that she’s mad at him and puts the photo back in its spot before scoffing at it.

Moving on from that photo and looking around more she sees a photo of her uncle and aunt, so happy and in love. Carole had tears in her eyes while Goose was holding her tightly as if letting go of her would make her disappear. They were looking into each other’s eyes, foreheads pressed together. She takes that photo into her hand and smiles at it.

“That photo was taken by your father.” Goose speaks up as Aurora turns around at the sound behind her. “It was the day I came back from my last deployment. Right before I hung up my wings.”

Goose approaches the couch and sits as Aurora looks at Goose.

“Do you ever regret not going back?” she timidly asks. Goose thinks for the right words before answering her.

“I miss flying with your dad. Heck I’m sure your dad says the same thing. I loved flying with him even though he got us in trouble a lot.” Aurora laughs at the thought of what chaos her father must’ve dragged her uncle into with him.

“But as much as I loved flying with your dad, I needed to come home to your aunt and Bradley.”

Gazing fondly at the photo held in Aurora’s hand, Goose’s smile was a little strained with his next words.

“We already had a scare before graduating Top Gun, and after that last deployment, I couldn’t leave them alone. You sacrifice a few things to get things right, but I don’t ever regret giving up my wings. Because I would do it over and over again in order to live my life with the family and watch you all grow up.”

Aurora thinks and sighs before putting the photo back in its place, coming over to sit beside her uncle.

“Alright little Mav. Talk to me.” Goose teasingly says.

Aurora pauses for a moment before admitting “I don’t know where to start.”

“Well then, let’s start at the beginning.”

With a deep breath, Aurora began talking about school and what had gone down. How what was supposed to be a great first year of high school, turned out to be one of the worst semesters she’s had. Her friends that she made in high school all turned out to be fake and were talking behind her back.

Her so-called junior boyfriend was only dating her because there was a bet going on saying that no one could get Aurora to go on a date. Also the fact that he was sleeping with her so-called best friend behind her back. Aurora was mad at not just the situation, but herself. She couldn’t believe that she had let herself be fooled the way she was. Her brother had gotten into a fight with her ex, but thankfully did not get into so much trouble since he was provoked, only having to serve detention.

As Aurora rambles, there are a few faces that Goose makes, showing he is listening to what was being said. He would add a few funny comments to lighten the mood such as “What an ass!” and “Hell yeah, way to go Peyton!” but other than that he would listen to her.

“So yeah. Now I’m here. Spending the holidays here, wondering how the hell I’m gonna survive the next few years of high school.” Aurora sighs. Goose looks at her as she finishes her story. Aurora could feel his gaze on her as Goose hadn’t said another word since his last comment of ‘Mav and I should go to the school and threaten to kick their butts’ to which Aurora shut it down right away.

“What Uncle Goose?”

“I’m sorry Aurrie. I know the first year of high school sucks, but it will get better.”

“You wanna know what sucks more? Having your best friend cut you out and not even talk to you because he's busy with his girlfriend.”

“More like ex.” Goose retorts back.

“Still! I’ve known him since I was four, Uncle Goose and he just pretends as if he didn’t just ignore me when I needed him the most!” Exasperated, Aurora tosses her hands up recounting the events of what had happened with him. “He hung up on me when I tried to talk to him on the phone because he was getting ready to hang out with her.”

Goose sighs. “I honestly don’t know what’s going on with him. Carole and I raised him better than that.”

“I know, Uncle Goose, you both did good. It’s just,” she pauses. “I miss my best friend. It really hurts that he’s pushing me away”

“Yeah I know kiddo.”

Aurora then thinks about something.

“How do you do it Uncle Goose?”

“Do what?”

“You and Auntie Carole? You two fight but you always find a way back to each other. You don’t push each other away, and even if you try, you both are always there for each other.”

He didn’t know which situation Aurora was referencing. Her breakup or Bradley.

“Ha, yeah your dad always said your Auntie and I are like soulmates.” He smiles at the thought of his wife.

“What do you believe are soulmates, Uncle Goose?”

Goose looks at Aurora who looks at him thoughtfully.

“I think a soulmate is someone you can be yourself around. Someone you can take comfort in and someone you can tell anything to,” Goose tells her sincerely. “They know you better than you could ever know yourself. Someone who accepts you for who you are. And despite some of their qualities, you’ll love them for who they are in return.”

Aurora then asks. “Do you think I’ll ever find my soulmate, Uncle Goose?”

He chuckles at her question. He kisses her forehead. “Of course, everyone has a soulmate. Romantic or platonic, everyone has that special someone.” Even though in his mind he knew Aurora had already found her romantic soulmate.

“What about mom and dad? Are they romantic or platonic soulmates?” she questions.

“Well their situation is a bit different. But I think it’s just a matter of the right person, wrong timing.”

“So you think they’ll ever get back together?”

Goose cackles. “Oh hon, I got a bet with your Uncle Ice and Auntie Carole about it! They best better in a few years.”

Aurora and Goose giggles as Maverick comes back in the garage from running his errands for Carole. He sees his daughter and best friend giggling away on the couch and he smiles knowing she found comfort in his best friend.

“What’s going on in here?” Maverick speaks up as Goose and Aurora looks at him.

Looking away from Maverick and at each other they grinned.“Nothing,” they reply simultaneously, breaking out into even more giggling.

Maverick shakes his head and squeezes himself between them.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s going on?” Maverick asks his daughter. Aurora then goes on to tell Maverick about what she told Goose, besides the conversation about soulmates. Before Maverick could say anything she tells him that he didn’t have to say anything since she felt better after talking with Goose.

Maverick smiles, gives her a kiss on the forehead and tells her to get ready for dinner. She smiles and gets up from the couch heading towards the door. As she reaches the doorway she pauses and turns to look at uncle Goose and her dad.

“Thanks for the talk, Uncle Goose. And thanks dad for understanding.”

“Anytime kiddo.” Goose smiles with a wink. She turns to run back into the safety of her room.

Maverick sighs.

“What’s with the sigh Mav?” Goose’s brow arches questioningly.

“Nothing. I just can’t believe she’s so grown up. Had a boyfriend and first heartbreak in just a couple of months. And I wasn’t there,” Scrubbing a hand down his face, Maverick’s gaze was still on the door where Aurora had just left through.

“You know you would be if you could.”

“I know Goose.”

They revel in silence for a bit until Goose speaks up and says, “Ya know she asked about soulmates?”

“Really? What was she referencing? Her breakup or her fight with Bradley?”

“Beats me. But I just hope they make up soon.”

“Yeah it’d be a real shame if you lost the bet between her and Bradley.”

“Jokes on you old man. They call me Cupid for a reason.”

“No they call you Goose because you quack a lot of nonsense,” Maverick snorts.

“That’s it. Bring it on Mav, I can’t wait to take out a short pancake.”

“Why do you always bring up my height?!”

Maverick and Goose jokingly wrestle on the couch as Carole walks in to tell them dinner was ready. She shakes her head and sighs. “Men.”

—

Bradley and Aurora barely spoke throughout the break. Bradley knew to give her space as soon as she didn’t speak to him for dinner that night, and it didn’t stop at dinner either. She didn’t speak to him most of the time she was at the house, mostly spending time with Auntie Carole in the kitchen, or at the floral shop. And when she was at the house, she hung out with her brother until Bradley came along then ran to the garage where Uncle Goose and Maverick were.

Maverick even took the twins to an airstrip, where they got to ride in a plane with their dad. They’ve been in a plane before with their dad behind the wheel, but he got to show them the ins and outs of the plane, as well as helping them learn landing and taking off procedures, something that they loved to learn when they were little. They had definitely gotten their love for aviation from their father.

In all honesty, Bradley felt like he was going nuts not talking to her, but he knew he was also going to have to talk to her soon. It was the night of Christmas Eve. Nobody had wanted a big party and instead they had all opted for family time at the house for spending Christmas. The adults were still talking at the dining table while Peyton was on the phone with his friend in his room.

Bradley took this as an opportunity to approach Aurora, who was out on the porch with her ukelele and her journal that her mom and stepfather gave her. With a single red rose in hand, he went outside to the porch dressed in his Christmas sweater and jeans. It was pretty cold outside, but the Bradshaw’s installed a small outdoor heater above the porch swing so he knew he didn’t have to bring out his winter coat. And so, when he stepped out onto the porch immediately he saw her.

Aurora also had a red sweater and leggings on. Her hair was in a braid in order to prevent any strands from getting caught in the instrument. She had a blanket over her legs, ukulele in hand strumming a pattern of chords. She was humming along until she’d pause, set the instrument down and jot something into her journal. She didn’t need to look up to know who had stepped onto the porch.

“So you gonna stand there and look dumb staring at me or are you going to sit down and actually say something?” Aurora spoke up, breaking Bradley out of his trance from staring at her. He takes a breath and walks up to Aurora and sits next to her as she makes room. She still had yet to look up into his eyes.

“Look, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you when you came. I got busy with Dakota and I wanted to see if I could get her back.”

She sharply inhales.“Bradley, do you honestly think I was mad about just that?!”

“Is that not what you’re mad about?”

“Are you shitting me?” Aurora looks at him with a bewildered look on her face.

“Is that rhetorical? And when have you started cussing?”

“Gosh Bradley! If you had at least picked up the phone, you’d know that I’m mad because you’ve been ignoring me for 2 months!” Aurora exclaims.

“Yeah well, we’ve both been busy,” he states simply.

“Pushing me away was the worst thing you could do! If you had picked up the phone you’d know about my breakup and Peyton’s fight.”

Bradley looks at her while tears run down her face and she quickly wipes it away.

“Shit, I’m sorry Rory.” Bradley sets down the rose on the table in front of them as he turns to her.

“Yeah, well so am I. Gosh I’m so mad at you! You and not telling me things anymore, B. We’re supposed to be best friends.”

“We are best friends, I am still your best friend.” Bradley pleads.

“Really?! So you were gonna tell me about your car accident?! Or was that something you were gonna withhold too?” Aurora looks at Bradley making eye contact with him for the first time in a while. Bradley becomes silent and Aurora scoffs at his response.

“Yeah that’s what I thought.”

“How did you-“

“Did you really think I wouldn’t hear my mom and Auntie Carole not talk about it the night of?” Aurora questions him, baffled. “Mom thought Peyton and I were asleep when in reality we were sitting on the steps of the stairs trying not to cry about your car accident. Mom had to end the call because we were crying so hard since we thought we were gonna lose you.”

Bradley and Aurora sat in silence looking away from each other, watching the snow fall.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” Aurora speaks up after a few seconds go by.

“Eventually.”

“Really?”

“I don’t know.”

“Damnit Bradley this is what I’m talking about! What happened to us?” she cried out.

“I’m sorry Aurie.”

She sighs and looks at Bradley as he turns back to look at her. She can see the scars on his face and neck, remnants from the accident. Bringing her hand up from her lap, her fingers lightly traced over each scar, Bradley staring into her eyes as she did so.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore.” She cups his face, caressing the raised skin. Her eyes filled with tears and Bradley panics thinking he made her cry again.

“I was so afraid I was gonna lose you B,” she whispers softly.

“Oh, darling.” He brings her into a hug and she hugs him back tightly, arms wounding around his neck.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“I promise princess. I’m so sorry, I’ll do better to tell you everything from now on.”

Bradley holds onto her as if she was his lifeline. He focuses on his best friend, the girl who always had his heart, even if she didn’t know it as she cries holding on to him, making up for lost time from fighting and accepts his apology. They hold each other for a long time after that, as Aurora’s breathing slows and stops crying. It’s only after calming down does she then realize about the rose Bradley left on the table.

“Is that for me?”she says as they break from the hug and she picks up the flower.

Bradley blushes and rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.“Well I couldn’t really come out and not give you a flower since I wasn’t here when I gave you that bouquet.”

She laughs and leans on him, flower in hand. He kisses her forehead as they both sit and watch the snow fall, wrapped in each other’s arms, probably the most relaxed in each other’s presence since this break had started.

—

Christmas morning came and the Bradshaws, Maverick, and the twins were sitting in the living room next to the Christmas tree, all wearing matching Christmas sweaters. Everyone in the house had also called who they needed, to greet whoever a Merry Christmas, from Penny to their Uncle Ice, and even Maverick’s and Goose’s old Top Gun instructor Viper, who they kept in constant contact with.

It was a perfect picture of Christmas morning, hot chocolate or coffee in hand, the kids sat on the floor while the parents watched them open their presents, and the fireplace was lit (after Maverick and Goose argued about who could light the fireplace, so Bradley and Peyton shoved their dads to the side and lit it themselves). Aurora opened her gifts and had already gotten an old polaroid camera from Goose, a fluffy blanket from Carole, a new phone from her dad, and a mug from Peyton that said “You’re a great twin sister…I guess” which was something he made from his pottery class at school.

Peyton loved his gifts that he had gotten which was a new Lego set (Goose), cellphone (Maverick), beanie (Carole), a bracelet that said “Twins Forever” (Aurora) and new basketball shoes (Bradley) that he was already up and getting another drink refill while the adults were already talking about the gifts they had gotten each other.

Bradley and Aurora look at each other with smirks, grabbing their presents that they got for each other. Bradley stands up and walks to sit next to Aurora.

Aurora smiles.

“You open your gift first, B!” she gives him a wink, prompting him to start unwrapping his gift, and gasping as soon as he sees it.

The first gift was a picture frame that contained three photos. One was the first photo they both ever took together, on top of a piano, hand in hand at four and eight years old. The other photo was of the twins and Bradley during the summer. Goose had taken a photo of the trio when they were racing each other on bikes laughing so hard, you can almost hear it from the photo. And the last one was another photo of the trio, from last summer when they were sitting on the porch, another photo Goose had taken when they were stargazing. Under the photo frame was a small box, Bradley opened it and it was a necklace. It had a plane pendant on the chain, and engraved on the side was “Always Flying Home” with the trio’s initials next to it. BAP. She knew Bradley would soon want to join the Navy soon and follow his dad’s footsteps. Bradley looks at her in awe.

“So do you like it, or are you looking at it like that because it’s super ugly?”

Bradley laughs and gives her a big hug.

“I love it, Aurie! Like a lot. I’m not taking this off.” He says as he releases her from the hug. Goose, Carole and Maverick break the moment, wanting to see the gifts. Bradley passes it around to have the adults get a good look at it as Aurora proceeds to open her gift from Bradley.

Peyton then comes back from refilling his drink just as she unwrapped her gift. The first one being a stuffed toy of a bunny. It was white, pink, and fluffy causing her to laugh in delight. Bradley was going on about how a bunny suits her personality and knew it was one of her favorite animals, with her favorite colors. She shakes her head in laughter and smiles at him.

“I’m gonna keep this forever!” She exclaims. Everyone in the room laughs as she opens her last gift. She opens it and reveals a box. Aurora looks at it, then looks back at Bradley.

“I swear if this is another paper wind up butterfly or a ring pop again B, I swear to -”

“Oh my gosh just open it!” Peyton exclaims, excited to see her sister’s reaction. She looks at her brother, suspicious of him as well.

She slowly opens the box, arms extended from her body, scared that something would come out, but nothing did. The adults laugh at her antics as she then peaks in the box and gasps. It was a beautiful silver charm bracelet.

“Everyone added a charm on it and engraved their initials on each charm, so you have a piece of everyone whenever you need us,” Bradley explains as he helps Aurora remove it from the box.

Carole said she chose the sunflower one, whereas Goose chose a goose charm since Maverick took the plane charm. Bradley said even Penny chose one for her, and that she picked the star charm.

“I chose one that had two hearts intertwined on it!” Peyton exclaims, proud of the charm he chose as he gave her a side hug.

Bradley helps Aurora put on the bracelet as she spies Bradley’s charm. He had added two. One was a princess crown and right next to it was a sword. Bradley looks into her eyes and grins at her.

“I figured that the princess should have her knight right next to her,” he says, still holding her hand.

Aurora blushes while Peyton groans and gags on the other side of her. She ignores him in favor of throwing her arms around her best friend. Bradley laughs and hugs her back. A flash goes off causing them to break their hug and look around to see Goose taking a photo of the moment, Peyton gagging in the photo and all. Bradley then takes Aurora’s hand again and kisses it, as Peyton was still acting up and the adults were laughing at his antics, not looking at the duo.

“I love it, B. I don’t think I’ll ever take it off,” she says as she brings her wrist up to examine the bracelet closer. Bradley glances at her and grins.

The excitement soon dies down as they start cleaning with the music record playing in the background. Bradley and Peyton go to collect the wrapping paper from the floor while the men set up the projector for their Christmas movie day, of course bantering on who gets to do what, as they normally do whenever they are paired together for any job together. Aurora goes to the kitchen to assist Carole in helping set up lunch. Aurora then looks out the window and sees that the snow had finally settled and turns to her aunt.

“I’m gonna go and get some air real quick!” she tells her, as she rushes out the kitchen and to the front door.

“Don’t forget a coat or turn on the porch heater!” Carole yells from the kitchen. Aurora rushes past Bradley and Peyton as they finish picking up the trash.

“C’mon let’s go make snow angels!” as she grabs her coat from the coat rack and runs out the door.

“What are we, 5?” Peyton yells after her.

“Mav, let’s go!” Goose exclaims from behind the two, hand on the back of the man whose name he just called out, and drags him towards the front door.

“No, but apparently he is,” Bradley mutters to Peyton. They snicker as they grab their coats and follow the three that went out the door.

Aurora was already making a snow angel, back on the ground and waving her arms as if she were doing jumping jacks. Goose was right beside her as Maverick was staring out from the porch, shaking his head at his best friend’s and daughter’s antics. The duo laugh at the sight in front of them and follow their lead and start to make snow angels as well, Peyton laying next to Aurora, and Bradley next to his dad. They start laughing while Maverick sighs at them, for once not being the irresponsible one in this situation. Carole comes out with Goose’s camera in hand and takes a photo of the scene in front of her.

Peyton then gets the bright idea to start a snowball fight, then all hell breaks loose. No one was safe as snow balls started flying left and right. Even Carole and Maverick had joined in after Carole had put the camera in a safe corner to record the moment. Because in this instant, if you can’t beat them, you might as well join them. There were no teams, it was just a flurry of snow flying everywhere.

Maverick then lifts up his daughter after she smashes snow on top of her dad’s head while he was kneeling to make a snowball causing her to scream in delight and laughs as he throws her softly into a pile of snow. Peyton then joins in, jumping onto Maverick’s back, but because he wasn’t expecting the weight, they both tumble onto the ground, next to Aurora.

The Bradshaws have their family moment as Carole and Bradley team up and take down Goose, ending up right next to Maverick and the twins also in the same manner. They all look at each other and laughed so hard, their stomachs and sides were hurting. With their adrenaline from the fight dying down, the cold and wet had begun setting in through their clothes causing them all to finally call a truce and head back inside before anyone could end up sick.

As they walk into the house, Carole and Goose first, Maverick, Peyton, with Bradley and Aurora still on the porch straggling behind them whispering and shoving each other, Peyton stops in his place.

He exclaims out “Wait, Uncle, Auntie! You have to kiss.”

They all pause their conversation and turn to look at Peyton. He gives them a look and points to the doorway that they all just passed through, and the doorway Bradley and Aurora were about to go through. Hanging on the doorway was mistletoe, all in its glory. The adults look at each other with confusion.

“Who hung that up?” Carole asks, curious.

“Maybe Santa.”

Maverick smacks Goose’s arm. Peyton looks at the adults.

“You have to kiss, it’s like the mistletoe law.”

Carole and Goose chuckle as Goose dips his wife down for a kiss. Maverick rolls his eyes, and looks at the duo who have yet to cross the doorway.

“No.”

“I didn’t even say anything.” Peyton exclaims

“Not you, them,” Maverick points at Bradley and Aurora. Both were blushing, either from the mistletoe or the cold.

“What do you want us to do then? Stay outside for the rest of the night?” Aurora sarcastically replies.

“You can cross the doorway, but no kissing.” Maverick states.

“But it’s the law!” Peyton exclaims.

“Screw the law, they’re not kissing!” Carole and Goose laugh at Maverick’s protectiveness towards his daughter and Bradley.

Bradley sighs and comes up with another idea.

“We can go through the back door while you get the mistletoe down, how’s that Uncle Mav?”

Maverick thinks about it. “Fine, but no funny business.” He gives them a threatening look.

The duo roll their eyes as they make their way to the backdoor.

“Who do you think hung up the mistletoe?” Aurora asks Bradley.

“I don’t know, maybe dad? He would come up with that idea.”

Aurora giggles at his response, and soon they approach the back door until she looks up and groans.

“What?”

Aurora points at the doorway and Bradley glances to see another mistletoe hanging. Bradley laughs and puts his palms to his face.

“We could just take it down, we don’t have to obey the mistletoe law,” Aurora nervously speaks up as she walks up to the doorway and reaches up to grab the plant, but because she was short she was struggling quite a bit. She was so focused on getting the mistletoe down, not even seeing the look Bradley was giving her at that moment. A look that showed love and adoration.

Bradley then decides in that moment to not think, but to just do. He gently grabs Aurora by the waist from behind her causing her to gasp and spin around now finding herself in his arms. Instinctively, she found herself clutching onto his arms in response. Their eyes meet, and Bradley glances at Aurora’s lips, as she looks back at him nervously. Was she about to kiss her best friend? Her heart began beating so fast, she wasn’t sure it was beating at all because at this moment all she could think about was Bradley, who was waiting for her answer, afraid that she would push him away. Slowly, she brought herself to give him a slight nod, and with that he leaned down.

Aurora meets him halfway, as she gets up on her tiptoes and their lips finally meet. His lips were a bit chapped from the cold, but Aurora didn’t care because they were warm. Her arms slowly go up Bradley’s arms and she wounds them around his neck. Bradley leaves his left hand on her waist, and the other slides to her cheek, cupping it and giving her more butterflies in her stomach, if that were even possible.

It’s as if the world went still for the first time. Frozen in a snow globe, and just for that moment, Aurora felt love and compassion from Bradley in that one action. Bradley held on to her, believing it was a dream, and he didn’t want to let go.

They both slowly part after their kiss, their faces red, from both the cold and the lack of air. They look into each other’s eyes, and all Aurora could see was the hazel eyes that she grew up with, full of happiness and love. Bradley gazes into her dark eyes and for the first time in his life, he was speechless. They both laugh at the expression they were giving each other.

Kissing her cheek, he whispers into Aurora’s ear. “Merry Christmas princess.” Aurora practically glowing at those words.

“Merry Christmas, B.” The two then separate, giving each other another warm smile, and as Aurora goes to open the door, Bradley reaches up to take down the mistletoe and pockets it in his jacket, as if to hide the evidence of the moment, but also wanting to keep a memento.

Aurora and Bradley walk a few steps into the kitchen where the backdoor was connected, and spot Peyton sitting on the kitchen counter drinking from his mug. He was facing the back door with a smile on his face as he saw the two walk in. He jumps down from the counter, walking towards them.

He whispers to both of them and says “Don’t worry, they don't know. They think you two were talking again so I won’t say anything.”

He winks at them, as the two release a breath they didn’t realize they were holding. They follow Peyton back into the living room as they hang up their coats.

“C’mon you three, you’re gonna miss the movie!” Goose calls from his seat on the couch, while Carole is sitting next to him, and Maverick is sitting in a sofa chair that was next to it.

The three rush to their usual spot on the floor, set already with the floor cushion Carole leaves out for them, along with the food and drinks on the coffee table, also courtesy of their Auntie Carole. Aurora sits in the middle of the two and settles in watching the movie in front of them until they hear Peyton whisper at a volume only they can hear.

“By the way, mistletoe is very hard to find. You both are lucky Auntie Carole works at a flower shop.”

Bradley and Aurora freeze at his words and turn to look at Peyton who had a mischievous grin on his face. The trio laughs as Aurora winds her hand in Bradley’s and leans on her brother. Maybe this Christmas break wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. She smiles at that and settles in her seat, ready to take what was coming because as long as she had her best friend and brother by her side, she felt prepared.

---

If you would like to be on the taglist or removed, please let me know!

Taglist: @call-sign-jinx @sqrlgrl22 @luckyladycreator2

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jughead-is-canonically-aroace · 3 years

Text

I posted 9,160 times in 2021

35 posts created (0.382096069869%)

9125 posts reblogged (99.6179039301%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 260.7 posts.

I added 5,212 tags in 2021

#0 - 297 posts

#jatp - 1154 posts

#art - 1008 posts

#video - 806 posts

#jatp fanart - 371 posts

#alex mercer - 369 posts

#reggie peters - 340 posts

#stories - 302 posts

#info - 300 posts

#check please - 265 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#little floating garlic clove in the middle of my vision that i try to get to line up with real garlic like one of those match the shape game

My Top Posts in 2021

searching for lost Heroes of Olympus fic

i'm trying to find a copy of a fic which has since been deleted off ao3, and the internet archive only has it saved up to the splashpage. i'm hoping someone has a copy downloaded somewhere

the fic is

Don't call me Leo by Trashbag_chan

the summary is

A girl about his age runs past him, her orange dress flailing as she passes, the world stops moving and Leo’s forgets how to breathe. His mother brings him back.

“Mi hijo? Are you okay?” Esperanza asks.

“Yes, but…” Leo pauses, biting his lip.

“Yes?” She smiles at him.

“Can I wear a dress like that girl pretty please?”

Where Leo finds out he's a she

(This was written before The Blood of Olympus came out.)

if you have a copy of this fic, please let me know! this fic was really important to me and i was really disappointed when i went searching for it and it'd been deleted. it'd mean a lot to be able to read it again

25 notes • Posted 2021-09-06 03:32:22 GMT

neil cicierega, fool: sundial is literally about nothing

me, very smart: wrong it is about having adhd

25 notes • Posted 2021-01-13 22:08:00 GMT

thinking about that one night vale quote uhh something like “if we cancelled school for every minor crisis that resulted in a few deaths, why we’d hardly ever leave our homes!”

and like obviously, covid. but also, everyone not sure if they’re supposed to be working during the coup. can you imagine? going to work at your fucking job during the french revolution? walking past some guy getting his head chopped off like “damn that sure is happening, but i gotta speedwalk because i’m already late”

31 notes • Posted 2021-01-11 23:20:23 GMT

Avatar: The Last Airbender Takes Place On A Flat Earth And Here's Why

62 notes • Posted 2021-05-28 21:06:02 GMT

sex? like from jokes?U know that isnt real right?

634 notes • Posted 2021-02-18 17:08:12 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #sex like from jokes being number 1 is very good #shoutout to 0 being a) not a tag i think ive ever used and b) breaking tumblr when i tried to access i #fixed their percentages also #isay #tumblr #tumblr is so broken i had to turn off beta post editor and turn on html post editor to post this #because for a while now new posts have inexplicably been defaulting to a sideblog when i make them #and it all came to a head as my tumblr year in review post insisting on being posted on my sideblog and refusing to give me the dropdown #to change what blog i was posting on #so i had to manually paste the post into a new post here #:))))))))

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miscelunaaa · 3 years

Text

spin cycle 2 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: drabble series, slow burn, idiots to lovers, fluff, lil bit of angst, eventual smut

summary: This random guy has started doing laundry at your favorite laundromat each week (at the same time as you, no less!) and to be honest, it’s going to be a problem. You’re just not sure how yet.

rating: 18+ for eventual smut

word count: 488

warnings: Reader is still a mess and no one is surprised, though she’s also had a long week so she’s kind of fucking done. Swearing. Metaphors about office coffee pots. Sleepy Jungkook smiles. We still haven’t talked to him yet tho so that’s weird. And reader is beginning to feel weird about it all.

notes: We’re back again with another drabble! I’m deeply humbled by the amount of love that the first one got???? Like, holy shit, I legitimately wasn’t pleased with it at all and posted it on a whim only after my husband read the first few and thought they were good. (Note: my husband, husbeard, is my editor and beta-reader. He reads everything I write before I post, even the thirsty shit! What a champ.) I now have a general idea of how I want the story to go, so strap in, it’s looking weird. Thank you so much for your support and thank you for reading!!

series masterlist | read on ao3

previous | next

So fine, this stranger is now invading your extremely late night laundry time, and you’ve yet to elucidate why. At least he has the audacity to look that handsome in his gray sweats and a hoodie, whereas you’re sure you yourself look like the coffee in the bottom of the communal office pot; lukewarm and watery and tired.

This week has been heinous. Your computer keeps crashing and you’re terrified of loosing your work. The late fall weather has been all over the place and as a result, you’ve had a throbbing headache on and off for the past week. Your roommate has a new friend with benefits, which, fine, but also it’s been extremely disruptive to your sleep schedule. On top of all that, your parents are already bugging you about the holidays. Halloween hasn’t even happened yet!

You’re setting up your computer and plugging the flighty bastard in when in walks your laundry friend, his black hood pulled up, looking tired and yet still handsome. A little rumpled, maybe, as if he’s just woken up, but he manages to find a little smile to give you from across the way.

Your heart stops.

He’s never acknowledged your presence before. The two of you have, up until this point, elected to pretend the other doesn’t exist. At least, when you’re facing each other. When he turns around, all bets are off.

The little smile he gives you is blinding. If you’re the gross, tepid remains in the office coffee pot, he’s the person turning the burner on beneath you, letting you come up to temp gently to preserve whatever flavor (or in this case, sanity) is left. Just enough attention to make sure you both get by. How long has it been since someone last smiled at you unprompted, let alone a young and attractive man?

No.

You don’t have time for this.

Catching feelings is the last thing you need. Conceal, don’t feel. Show nothing, give nothing.

Fuck.

You smiled back.

Fuck. You dumbass! Why are you like this? Where’s your usual stone cold facade? The sleep deprivation must be beginning to get to you.

Thank god he doesn’t come over and try to chat. You watch from the corner of your eye as he begins to unload his wheeled plastic hamper, placing all of the contents in one washer before adding detergent and feeding it quarters. Once that’s started, he walks to his usual table, one on the other side of the laundromat, and pulls a tablet and a stylus from his bag before starting to work on something. He’s too far away for you to see what.

You turn back to your computer, and continue where you left off.

Thank god he only seems to be interested in being civil, giving you nothing but a greeting and then ignoring you to work one something in peace.

The feeling is mutual, you lie to yourself.

Thank you for reading! Find me in various places at my carrd :)

posted: 12.27.2021. (updated: 4.2.2022. front matter clean up.)

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years

Text

leave out all the rest | c. beck

→ pairing: chris beck x black!reader

→ word count: 5387

→ warnings: 18+ ONLY, smidge of angst, smut, sex, breeding kink, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, hand job, explicit language

→ square filled: @badthingshappenbingo

flashbacks

→ request: chris beck + breeding kink + "babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that" + "I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that"

→ author note: dr. space daddy is finally here! this is also the first of my 5k celebration fics! all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. thanks so much for the request @thedarkplume! title from linkin park leave out all the rest (i loveeee this song); line divider by @firefly-graphics; flashbacks are in italics. i also formatted this with the beta text post editor on desktop... so hopefully nothing looks weird and the italics/bold actually work... it is tumblr after all.

oh, hey, there’s a bit of a marvel crossover in this too!

Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel in this moment. Your stomach hasn’t been settled since you got the call two days ago. It’s been flipping and twisting ever since. Sleep hasn’t come easy either, but you’re used to that. Ever since Chris left, you haven’t slept well. It’s been almost seven hundred and thirty days— well, just three days short.

You follow the two tall military men, decked out in their dress blues, through the secure facility, your black leather combat boots thudding against the tile floors. Everything is white— the walls, the floors, the coats of all the scientists and doctors milling about— except for you and your flowery, thigh length sundress. Dark eyes wide, teeth nibbling on a sore, often bloody bottom lip from all the nibbling, small purse bouncing off one hip as a duffel bag bounces off the other.

Winding through corridor after corridor, pausing as the men lift their badges to keypads to get door after door to click open. An eerie quiet looms throughout the entire building, nothing but random beeps, your breathing, and footsteps.

Nervous doesn’t begin to describe it.

The walk gives you too much time to think about the last seven hundred and twenty seven days. All of the crying. All of the anger— the screaming. Chris trying to calm you down, assure you that they were okay— that he had to do this.

"It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?" You sobbed into the phone, staring up into the stars, knowing that he couldn’t but secretly hoping that he could see you.

"This is not easy for me," he choked back tears, his tongue heavy, "Leaving you is never easy but I have to do this, baby. We have to go back for Mark. We have to."

You didn’t answer his calls for over a week. And when you did, your words were quick and harsh.

"I can’t do this anymore. I’m moving in with my sister."

Chris was silent on the other end of the phone— too silent. He sighed after a while and just said, "Ok. I understand."

That was day four hundred and sixty three.

So you moved in with your sister. Got a job at the local bar, picked up every shift you could, sometimes working sixty, seventy hours a week— just so you didn’t have to think about him. It didn’t work. You’d still stare out the window at night, up into the big black sky and through the twinkling little stars, wondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was thinking about you.

Unbeknownst to you, Chris continued to call your sister. Just to check on you.

Day seven hundred was when two Air Force officers walked into the bar as you were cutting up lemons and oranges. Your stomach, in a perpetual state of tight and sour, dropped to your feet. It’s never good when the military comes knocking on your door.

“He’s dead,” you spit out, eyes watering, chest starting to heave, “He’s dead, isn’t he? They’re all dead.”

When they removed their hats, your hands flew to your face, covering your mouth to muffle the sobs. You just knew they were all dead. Humans can’t stay in space for this long. It’s not natural.

“No ma’am,” the taller, brown skinned man answered, a small smile breaking onto his face, showing off the distinctive gap between his two front teeth, “They’re back in our orbit. They’ll be landing within the next seventy two hours.”

It was a flurry after that. Phone calls, you moving back onto the base, protocol gatherings, interviews with local and national media. None of it mattered. You just wanted to see him— you needed to see him.

Not before his mandatory three week quarantine that is.

Day seven hundred and twenty five is when they called to let you know that he was ready to move onto the second phase of his integration back on earth. Two weeks cohabitating with another person of his choice, just to make sure that his body and cells can still tolerate, you know, earth— and that he doesn’t give off anything that could make earthlings sick.

They called to let you know that Chris chose you— if you wanted to, of course. If not, he could call his sister.

You were packing your bag before the call even ended.

After two days of getting tested for everything known to man, it’s now day seven hundred and twenty seven and here you are, passing through the last set of doors and stepping into a large observatory room. One of the General’s starts talking, but you don’t hear a word. You just blink slow, lips falling open as you stare back at Chris as he stands at the little square window of his living quarters. He smiles soft, running his hand through his short, dark hair before waving and placing his palm on the window.

Tears cloud your vision. Your chin trembles as a sad smile spreads on your face. A sob chokes in your throat and a warm tear streaks down your cheeks. Despite the talking man, you step up to the window and press your much smaller hand on the glass, spreading your fingers to match his. Chris rests his forehead to it and you do the same as you really start to bawl— shoulders shaking, face breaking, breath rushing fast and hard.

"Baby, don’t cry. Come on pretty, don’t— don’t cry."

Chris’ voice is muffled by the thick glass, but just hearing it— so close, so familiar— after so longs it’s just… it’s almost too much. It is too much.

“Ma’am, we can’t let you in there like this. We need you to calm down.”

Dense thuds shake the glass as Chris pounds on it, "Open the door, Sam!"

Sam grabs your bicep, gently, guiding you towards the door— Chris following you both, still talking to you through the glass.

"It’s okay baby, I’m right here. I’m right here."

“We need you to calm down,” Sam starts again, “He hasn’t been around—”

"Sam! Goddamn it, leave her alone! Open the door!"

“Beck! You cool it in there!”

"Don’t be an asshole! Open the door! She’s scared!"

You hear a scoff, “Step back from the window, Dr. Beck.”

"I swear to God—"

“Step back from the window, Dr. Beck.” Sam is stern now, pointing his finger towards Chris.

Sam pauses for a few long seconds, blinking slow but keeping his hand around your bicep— and thank God, because you honestly need it, “I’m going to badge you into the hallway, okay? You take this keycard,” he presses it into your palm, “And put it up to the keypad at the second door after I close this door behind you. It’s only good for one passthrough— once you’re in, you’re in until the medical staff clears you both. Understand?”

The second half of his speech is softer, his thumb rubbing the back of your arm. You like Chief Master Sergeant Sam Wilson. You nod quick, rubbing at your face with the back of your hand, sniffling hard and focusing a shaky breath out through your teeth as you step in front of the door. There’s a loud click and the metal pops, Sam reaching past you to push it open.

Your body, on autopilot, takes three steps to the second door, eyes staring at the keypad on the wall beside it. Chris is still talking to you through the windows, one hand pressed to the glass, the other on the door handle.

"Just a few more seconds baby. You’re doing so good."

There’s another click— Sam closing the door behind you. Water fills your eyes again, emotion choking up in your throat at the gravity of it all. All of the screaming. All of the crying. All of the hating him and loving him and missing him for seven hundred and twenty seven days all culminating right here, right now, while he’s just three feet away from you. The sky used to be the thing keeping you apart— now it’s just a wall. A door— that you can’t walk through.

"Baby, Chris says gently, "Come on baby. Open the door, honey."

You’re frozen. Eyes locked on the keypad, fingers gripping the keycard so hard they start to burn. Open the door, honey takes you back. Takes you back to the day that he told you he was going up— that he’d be gone for a year.

“Open the door, honey. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You sniffle, staring at your reflection in the mirror in your small bathroom.

“You knew this was coming. I don’t know why you’re so mad.”

“A year? A year, Chris? I’m just supposed to put my life on hold for you for an entire year?”

He sighs through the door, “I’ve worked my ass off for this, you know that.” You do know that, you’re just being selfish. Needy and selfish, “I know we’ve got plans baby, but it’s just a year. One year and then I’m all yours—”

“Yeah, until the next time you decide to go up there. This is what Melissa warned me about. You get addicted to it.”

“I won’t.”

“You will,” you retort, “I know you.”

That makes him laugh, and then you’re laughing because he’s laughing, “Open the door, please.�� Chris sighs again.

As soon as you turn the knob, he’s pushing through it, lifting you up off your feet and twirling you around— to make you laugh again.

You were standing on a precipice that night and neither one of you knew it. Your lives, both individual and combined, would change forever and that was the night that set it all in motion.

The keycard digs into your fingers and palm, bringing you back into the present. Back into the hallway, back in front of Chris. You blink, linking eyes with him again, finding them soft and down turned, his head tilted as he presses his fingers to the glass.

"Let me hold you," he says soft. So soft that the glass between you gobbles it up. But you just know that’s what he said. You just know.

The door clicks in your ear, a breeze is in your face as Chris throws it open, and then you’re consumed. Arms wrapped around you, hard chest against yours as you’re lifted right off of your feet. He’s so warm— he’s always been so damn warm.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, leaning back a little as you push your face into his neck, “This moment was the only thing keeping me going.”

“I’m sorry,” you sob, pushing your face into his shoulder, your tears wetting his NASA sweatshirt, “I’m so sorry, I was so selfish,” the words are clipped and broken, heavy on your tongue, “Chris, I—”

“Don’t. Don’t do that, it doesn’t matter.” He sits you back on your feet, rubbing your back with both of his large hands, “I’m the one that should be sorry.”

You cry openly into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and pushing your hands up into his sweatshirt, under the thin t-shirt underneath— just to feel his skin, “I missed you so much.”

One, two, three, four pecks of his warm lips on the top of your head before he rests his cheek there, holding you tight as he takes a deep breath, “All that’s over now, hmm?” you can feel the smile on his face, “We don’t have to miss each other anymore.”

A yawn pushes out of your mouth as you stretch out tight, sore muscles screaming. Eyes flutter as you shift, another deep breath pushing out your nose as you nuzzle your face into the pillows, body cocooned in warmth. You’re drifting again, quick, when an abrupt panic races through your veins without warning. Your stomach drops, skin instantly flushing with heat as you spring up, eyes as wide as saucers as your breath rushes.

That’s when you hear it, an all too familiar sound. A pencil, tapping slowly, methodically, against something. It calms you instantly. It’s real, you’re real, Chris is real, and you’re here. He’s here.

You swing your legs over the edge of the small bed, tucked in the corner behind a small partition. There’s a soft light glowing underneath it and a single red blinking dot emanating from the corner of the room— a camera. You push your hair out of your face but keep your fingers on your cheeks, closing your eyes as you focus on your breathing. In, out, in, out, in, out. There’s a murmur, Chris mumbling to himself and you can’t help but smile.

You stand and start moving towards the noises, padding soft and slow as his mess of brown hair and hunched back comes into view. He stands, switching out an X-Ray on the viewer before he plops back down into the swivel chair, staring at it for a second before he starts flipping through the large, open text book just to his left. There’s a little white board off to the right, leaning against the wall, the days he’s been “gone”, seven hundred and twenty seven, scribbled in his messiest of messy handwriting.

The little slice of time watching him sends you right back to your college years, waking up in his dorm room, finding the bed empty and him huddled over a too small desk, furiously flipping through a thousand page text book. You’d sneak up on him, just as you are now, barely dressed and sleepy eyed. Dig your fingers into his hair, scratch his scalp slow. Giggle as his shoulders slump and his head falls back a little, him moaning all the while.

“God, that feels good.”

“You let me fall asleep.”

“You cried yourself to sleep. Didn’t have the heart to wake you… you look like you haven’t slept in a year.”

“Hmm, more like two. What are you doing?” you ask, pushing around his side and crawling into his lap, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Looking at our X-Rays from earlier today. I’m working on another paper for the Institute.”

“Trying to see if you guys are still earthlings?”

He laughs, the sound rumbling through you, making you smile, “Kinda, yeah. Our body masses have changed dramatically— our bones are longer, I’m not shitting you.” You giggle again at the enthusiasm in his voice, “It’s just a few centimeters, but still. Our brain waves are a little different, metabolism has sped up… it’s incredible.”

You keep the small smile on your face as your fingertips drift over his chest, rubbing slow as you feel his eyes fall to you, “You should get back in bed,” he says, squeezing your knee gently, “You look so tired, baby.”

“Not without you.”

He laughs again, “My circadian rhythm’s all fucked up, I can’t sleep.”

“Then it looks like you're stuck with me,” you kiss his chin and then cuddle back into him, “Don’t mind me.”

Mind you, he doesn't. He just goes about flipping pages and scribbling down random thoughts, marking up his pile of x-rays and fumbling through his and the rest of the crew's medical charts. You push your hand up into the arm of his navy blue NASA sweatshirt, raking your nails up and down his forearm absentmindedly as you breathe him in. Your other hand wanders too, tracing the band of his dark sweatpants before skipping up into his sweatshirt, brushing over his stomach and up to his chest.

The pads of your fingers outline the muscles that are still there, his pecs, down and across his soft abs, before back up and over a cheeky nipple. He jumps slightly, crinkling his nose as he smiles big and hard, “Babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“Oh, is that so?”

You bat two big eyes up at him, the weight of going almost two years without catching up with you right at this moment. A hum vibrates in your throat as you stand, taking a few steps away from him before you toss your eyes over your shoulder, licking your bottom lip before sinking your teeth into it. You hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers after a few moments, watching him drag his big eyes down your bare legs and then back up over your powder pink satin shorts and matching camisole.

“Come to bed, Dr. Beck.”

He’s up and on his feet before the words are out of your mouth. Warm fingers interlace with yours as the two of you move back towards the bed, falling onto the soft twin size mattress. His weight dips into the bed as he sinks his knees into it, pulling his sweatshirt over his head as you crawl towards the headboard. You draw your legs up, swaying them gently back and forth, palms flat on your thighs as you inhale deep, watching as he tosses his shirt to the floor.

The smile on your face grows larger as he crawls over you, pushing your legs open with his soft hands before he settles right between them. Chris takes his time looking at you, smiling soft as his eyes drift over your face, his index finger dragging down the bridge of your nose, over two full lips, and down your chin and neck. You let out a quick breath when the pad of that sneaky finger dips just inside your tank top— right into your cleavage.

He cups your face, his thumb resting on your lips, brushing gently, “I’m never leaving you again,” he whispers, blue eyes filling with earnest as they bounce between yours, “I mean it.”

You turn your head into his palm, pressing your lips into the soft, warm skin, planting kisses, “You promise?”

The delivery is breathless. Quiet. Small. Almost begging him to mean it. He takes a deep breath, pushes it out slow before leaning in, closing his eyes as he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. That’s when he kisses you— slow. Deep. Tongue pushing through your lips and into your mouth. Massaging the roof of your mouth before sliding along your tongue. He even moans a little, lets his body— muscles, bones, brain— relax. Lets himself melt into you because it’s just been so damn long.

It ends slow, the kiss. Chris grabbing your lip with his teeth and pulling gently before he rests his forehead to yours. Eyes closed, his big, skilled hands and fingers flirting with your calves—pushing over your knees and then down your thighs to come to rest on your sides and hips.

“I promise.” You slide your hands up and down his sides, letting your eyelids flutter as he continues, punctuating his words with more gentle kisses, “We can start that life you’re so crazy about,” he laughs when you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, “Buy you a house.”

“On the base?”

“I thought you didn’t like the base?”

“I don’t… but I kinda... do.”

“Then yeah, on the base if that’s what you want.”

Your eyes are still closed as hot lips press against your face— the crook of your nose, underneath one eye, cheeks, and then chin. You push your fingers up into his hair as he forges a path with his lips and tongue— down your neck, over two collarbones, down your arm— all the while his hands move upward. Up into your silk top, nimble fingers playing with two tight nipples before he rucks the silk top up to your chin.

“Wait,”

“What?”

“What about them?”

“Them, who?”

Pointing with your foot towards the blinking red light in the corner, “Them.”

He laughs and you laugh, covering your face with your hands until Chris pries them away, “They’re nerds, babe. We’ve already made them so nervous they’ve left the control room.”

You honestly can’t remember the last time you laughed this hard. Not since he left you suppose. It’s a nice sound, for both you and him, filling up the small space, making it alive and lived in instead of clinical and dry, “That’s not nice, Chris!”

He shimmies the thin material up over your head, casting it to the floor, “It’s the truth! I should know. Remember the first time I saw you naked? I couldn’t look anybody in the eye for a week.”

The memory makes you laugh, soft and dreamy-like, “That was so long ago.”

Chris catches the tone. It makes him halt, for just a second, his eyes shifting away from you. Guilt. For holding you at an arm’s length for so long. For making you number two. For making you wait for him for so damn long.

You tilt your head, eyes searching his. Gentle hands claim his face, pulling him back into your strong gaze, “Stay with me,” you whisper, eyes bouncing between his, “You’re buying me a house.”

“Ah, yes,” with one fell swoop, your shorts are pulled down your legs, right over the tips of your manicured toes and thrown to the floor, “One story? Two?” He asks, back up on his knees.

“Umm, maybe just one,” You answer, sitting up, slipping your hands into the dark sweats still covering his bottom half, “A two story house is too much to keep clean.”

You pull, but not all the way. Just enough to see his hips and that little tuft of dark hair underneath his belly button. You can’t help yourself and lean forward, kissing his stomach, giggling when he jumps a little. When you do it again, kiss him, and then a third time, and a forth, he gives in. Sweeps your locs over your shoulders and pulls them into a ponytail in his hand. That’s when you hook your thumbs back underneath the thick band of his sweats and pull a little harder, pushing the material right over his hard cock, making it bounce.

Chris kicks out of the sweats, grabs your face in his hands and tilts it upward. Leans down and kisses you again— soft. Sweet. All while rubbing small circles into your cheeks with his thumbs. He stays there, forehead to forehead, eyelashes spread over his buttery, quickly blushing red cheeks as you palm him, dragging your hand from the base right to the tip.

It doesn’t take much— never has. After a few strokes, he’s wet and red all over. Chest, neck, cheeks. Mouth agape, pulling in ragged breaths as his eyelids flutter. He swallows hard, and then hums quick, deep and throaty before inhaling through his open mouth. You push upward, kissing him as you continue slow strokes, sweeping a thumb over his wet tip.

Fingertips brush along the inside of your thigh, down low, first by your knee. Then, slowly, they skirt upward, not groping or kneading, just brushing— flirting with your skin until they reach their destination. You gasp, mouth falling open as adept fingers— not only just in general, but with your body specifically— push through wet folds.

“One story it is then,” he breathes, hot, unhurried, “A dog and a,” he slams his eyes shut, hissing and grunting when you squeeze him, “Fuck baby,” he swallows again, lips trembling as he nuzzles in, rubbing the tips of your noses together, “A dog and a cat.”

Your free hand wraps around his neck, fingertips pushing into his hair as your head tips back, hips start to shove forward, eager for his touch— wanting those fingers inside. When Chris obliges, sinks his index and middle finger into your cunt— touch starved and needy— you mewl. Making a real sound for the first time in seven hundred and twenty seven days. It enlivens you both.

Chris pushes you back, lays you back onto the small mattress, spreads you out. Keeps his fingers inside, pumping slow, curling, massaging. Thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing. He lays between your legs, coming face to face with your most intimate and blows gently. Warm air sticking to balmy flesh. Big blue eyes flick up to yours, then back to your sweet, licking his lips as a squelch fills the room.

His tongue darts out, slips along the inside of your thigh. Your hips react instantly, jutting upward as a sharp breath fills your chest. A long arm pushes up your body, fingers prodding your breast, tweaking a nipple before he palms the skin, but not for long. Within seconds, his fingertips are pushing into a willing mouth. Your tongue, swirling around thick digits as you grab onto his hand, holding it there.

Warm air tickles damp skin again as he blows on you, “Have some babies,” he offers quick, the words muffled by your flesh as he finally laps at you, tongue slipping through sticky folds, flattening against your slit as he massages the delicate, “How many you want, baby?”

Nothing but a bitten-off groan answers him. It comes for many reasons. His fingers somehow delving deeper, lips brushing over your cunt— the thought of babies. Little brown skinned, curly headed babies running in the backyard with that dog and cat. Wide smiles, complete with missing teeth, loud laughter, declarations of love as they jump into mommy and daddy’s arms.

“Oh yeah,” heavy words breathed into your ear, a hunk of man now laying on top of you, cock pressing at your opening, “My pretty girl wants babies,” the wetness makes it easy for him to slide in— all the way in— bury deep, “I’m gonna give them to you. You’ve been so good.”

He’s moving, hips pushing and pulling as he cups your face in his hands, presses his forehead to yours, “I’m gonna fill you up,” he mutters, swollen lips brushing against yours, “Stuff you— full of— my, fuck,” a deep moan, another quick hiss as he bites his bottom lip, overcome by the warmth, the wet— the tight, “Fuck, you feel good.”

Feverish lips are on yours again, teeth nibbling as his hips shove into you. Soft and swift. A palm covering your breast, fingers pressing, kneading and working sensitive, responsive skin. Nipples hardening, heat blooming across an ardent canvas of skin, pulsing hips eager to meet his.

Chris cups your chin, pushes upward so you're forced to keep slitted eyes on him and him only, “You want my babies? Hmm? Tell me baby,” you can only whimper in response, digging your nails into his sides, drawing your legs up and around him as he plunges deep, “Come on honey, use those words. Tell me how much you want my babies.”

He fucks into you hard, jamming his hips just once— the sound of skin on skin slapping out loud and off the walls. It arches your back, the sudden, quick thrust. Sends you right up into his chest. Chris pulls you into his lap as he falls back on his ass, extending his legs, heels digging into the mattress as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and tight, fingers spreading out on your back.

Hips roll into one another. Fingers grip his calf as you lean back, hot, sloppy lips on your chest, over and between bouncing tits. A taut nipple pulled right into his wet mouth. Slippery tongue swirling and flicking, teeth nibbling before he sucks on the tight nub, teasing it further.

Then he’s holding your hips, forcing you down onto his cock. More rushed, sticky words falling from swollen, red lips, “You want me to fill you up? Hmm? Tell me.”

Tears slip down your cheeks, overcome by it all. The emotion of it, the physicality of you and him tangled together— the words, how many years you’ve waited to hear those words.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” he purrs, thrusting harder, faster, “You want me to come in you, don’t you? You’d love it if I came in you, huh? Knocked you up? Gave you a baby?”

You kiss him hard. Cupping his face, moaning sweet into his wet mouth, “I want it,” it’s breathy— desperate, “I want it, Chris. I want it.”

“Then I’ll give it to you. I’ll give it all to you.”

It’s feverish after that. Pushing and pulling. Grunting, smacking— lips on lips, skin on skin. Large hands gripping, fingers pressing into the meat of thighs and calves and ass and tits. His fingers grip the meat of your thighs, your ass, slide up your back— around your neck as your head falls back. Those fingers find your mouth, push just inside as he wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling your hips closer, helping them rock.

His fingers are out of your mouth, cupping your cheek now. Smoothing hair out of your face as it strains. You try not to get loud, slam your eyes closed, purse your lips as your toes curl and stomach tightens… heart flutters.

“Oh no,” he murmurs, brushing his thumbs over your closed eyes before prodding at your lips, “Don’t do that, honey. I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that. Come on, let me hear you.”

“No, I—“

“Don’t be modest,” his tone shifts, going stern and deep, and that’s all it really takes for the noise to flow, “I wanna hear you.”

But he knew that.

It’s a sweet little hum, and then a gasp before it’s clipped by an obscenity— a shaky, desperate, filthy word that dissolves away into a loud groan and then… it’s all downhill from there.

You couldn’t hold it in if you tried. It’s been too long. A pent up aggression, a nervous need all finally working its way out of you. You pull him close— crush your chest against his, wrap two liquid arms around his neck, press your face right against his. Chris loops an arm around your waist, squeezing your opposite hip, pressing his fingers right into the soft skin until it hurts.

But it’s good, the pain of the squeeze. It helps you right over the edge, makes you finally cum after seven hundred and twenty seven days. Slow at first. A warmth just taking its time as it spreads. The feeling sort of foreign because it’s been so long— your brain hasn’t caught up just yet.

When it does catch up, brain and body finding each other, dormant synapses kicking on with a jolt, it’s not just a warmth. It’s molten now, searing and stirring, passing through veins and muscles and skin and bone— it’s that deep. Toes curling so hard they go numb, fingertips digging into his shoulders as you throw your head back.

You’re sure the scientists and military guards can hear you three floors down.

Chris leans in, hot, wet, shiny lips pressing against your chest, over your tits with sloppy kisses, hips still churning into yours until they just can’t. Wet walls closing in, clamping down as they spasm, that molten enveloping him. His hips freeze quick with the first spurt, but find a haphazard rhythm as he comes. Fills you up just like he promised.

He pushes those warm blooms of silk deep with now pointed, long strokes. Not a drop escaping— it’s all for you, after all. Supply and demand and all that.

The mattress is a dream beneath you. Inviting and soft as he lays you into it, still rooted deep as he rolls you onto your side. An arm snakes around your hip, a palm and long fingers anchoring in the center of your chest. A hot, flushed cheek presses against yours as lazy wet lips drag along the back of your neck. Languid thrusts at random intervals keeps you gasping as he tucks his knees and thighs into the backs of yours.

“Say it again,” you whisper after a few quiet minutes, breath still heavy, chest still heaving.

Chris plunges into you again, soft and sweet and deep, “Say what, honey?”

“That you won’t,” the words break off, a moan replacing them as he kisses a trail down your arm, fucks into you once, twice, three times, “That you won’t leave me again.”

“I’m not leaving you again.”

When you wake up the next morning, that little whiteboard with the days scribbled on it is erased. All it says now?

Day one.

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