#no idea what to tag this even tho im really proud of it

[thebluetemple]

It's a long story, but the moral is "Don't get distracted by your Adventuring Companion's tits while he's mad at you."

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

-

part five

[awooghan]

24 to 25 ✧.* y.ji (part two)

➳ 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; also you can slowly see the quality of my writing decline in the end im sorry 😭

➳ 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 neither of you had any idea the bond those three little words would hold 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 &lt;;33 thank u @pearleechai and @gloseoks for helping me out with that one part i got stuck on for like a week lmaooo. to elsa 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 you’ve 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. PLEASE READ PART ONE FIRST.

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.

[minheeskitten]

"2k is long" is also nonsense i'm so sorry 😭 2k is barely anything if you're trying to introduce an AU and actually flesh in a setting and especially if you're trying to show different personality traits 😭 your fic are mostly AUs with really well thought out lore, and it needs the word count to breathe and establish everything. if someone's attention span is too short to read more than - what - 2 pages? that's their problem, not yours! fwiw, my fic lengths range with the shortest starting at around 5k and the longest getting close to 30k and i have never had anyone leave a complaint about the length! people are more than willing to sit through 10k+ just to get to the smutty stuff, and they usually end up enjoying the rest of the fic as well. do not worry about it! you're doing just fine 🩷

I don't often look at the length of a fic unless im updating someone on how long its getting. My shortest wip is 100 words. And. Ive posted it to here bcs i feel it'll never be finished.

If it does get finished eventually then i will post it as a fic but. Until then it sits in my drafts.

My fics almost always include worldbuilding to at least 3k now. Though not all of them were like that.

Do you want in on a secret? I don't think out the world for my aus. It fleshes itself out. I think on what may happen n go from there. The story writes itself. I am just a vessel for the words and visions.

I am absolutely terrible at worldbuilding if im doing it consciously.

Its why i have visible headcanons for idols. But i just can't put them into words haha.

The most i think through is 'what sort of details would enhance this and make it better to read'

And then thats where i go from!

Siren!ivan was originally supposed to be more non-con than it is rn. The consent is not proper consent tho but thats bcs. Well. Siren wants what he wants and he will convince dann to give it to him.

Though. Thats a little bit of a spoiler. It is going to be tagged accordingly. Don't worry ill tag fics right.

The fic i thought through the most, probably is one ive not even started wtiting. The dissection fic. I gotta do all sorts of research so i can make sure its accurate and well done.

Which unfortunately means i gotta look at anatomy from a more medical standpoint. Need to go find a book for that..

The first fic i put out actually has a very strong plot hole. That i told myself id patch before posting it but. I didn't.

That plot hole was the reasoning as to why ivan was doing that to hwon. It has a very weak reason and i could absolutely fix it now. But. Not this year.

I write ab 5k minimum most of the time haha. I prefer letting the story fill itself out n then helping fine tune details. Its why i really can't tell you how long a fic may be.

So far my longest fic is 16k words. Published. Theres more unpublished. That's for the abandoned but not orphaned one.

I may return to it eventually. That's why i didn't wanna orphan it.

All of my fics stop at a point they organically would have stopped at. When i feel it can't really take another scene. I end it. That usually leaves spaces for part twos to them as well!

But i like exploring aus as i write them.

Fun fact! I write aus bcs im worried that if i do anything else i may accidentally copy someone else's idea.

I do get inspired by the other kd writers. Oh gods do i get inspired.

Lee, lunar, eve, even erin, who encourages the hwonicide. They all inspire me in their own ways. Does that usually come in the form of a prompt to note down asap? Yeah.

But other ways are helping with details for fics. And they are all very welcome to chat ab fics w me. I don't steal ideas. Not without permission and changing it to be my own.

I have a prompt that is inspired by eve's fic Clear My Mind (eve is karmacumover btw!)

But it is different. I may show her the prompt itself if she wants to see it haha.

But i love working on fics. Even if I can't be proud of them as a 'look i made this!' i can still look at the work and go 'yeah. Thats good.'

Thank you lee for helping me figure out how to do that. It was amazing to be able to step back and go 'thats a good story' if i removed myself from it.

The lee im referring to here is intenselysalmon. So she knows who im referring to.

One day. One day my goal is to be proud of how much I've written. Of what I've written.

Its a goal i think is far away. But the more i talk to other writers. The more i realize.

Im not as bad at writing as i think i am.

Honestly id never even considered myself a good writer, until i asked writers like lee and erin their feedback on my works. And they both said i write well. Maybe a little dialogue heavy but. Thats fine i can work on it.

Im doing my best. And im trying to ensure i continue getting better.

The more i talk to other writers and see how they talk ab my writing. The more i go. 'maybe im too harsh on myself' but. As they say, you are your own worst critic.

Honestly i never even considered my work good enough to do much with. But. Lunar still offered to possibly do a collab or fic trade. And i keep thinking on it. Maybe.

It makes me think they find me a better writer than i find myself to be.

Then i see eve, reacting to some of the xlips of airen!ivan ive put out. And she's reacting as i would for any of lee's clips. I find lee an amazing writer. It seems eve thinks of me that way too.

Im trying to wrap my head around it. But the reason i am so harsh on myself is. Anxiety and self doubt. And i need to work through them.

Thats the first time ive admitted that.

I will work through my weaknesses, and be better than before. Slowly. It takes time. I have to be patient.

One day. One day i will be able to proudly say 'im a good writer'

Its not today. But. It will be an eventuality.

Moots mentioned in this post:

Lee (@intenselysalmon )

Erin (@kurenaiwataru )

Eve (@karmacumover )

Lunar (@kingdoms-babygirl )

[idk-i-just-really-like-tsc]

Happy New Year ✨✨✨

It’s almost 2023, so let’s celebrate the good things that happened to us in 2022! List ten amazing things that happened to you this year and then send this to ten people who brighten your day!

thank you for the ask this is such a lovely idea and way to show gratitude!

1. I got closer with my friends and made new ones!! Both people here on tumblr and my real friends at college and I’m very thankful for that <3

2. I got to travel a lot and see new places! Traveling is one of my favorite hobby and I was so glad to see so much of the world this year. (tsc related i got to see rome <3 for malec)

3. despite struggling with my mental health i took a LOT of classes and kinda kicked ass in (some of) them yay education

4. I learned more about myself, my values and what I want from my life and I’m excited about that!

5. This is so dumb but watching my tv shows!!! I started watching greys in October, had 911 and 911 lone star throughout the year and shadowhunters is always my show before bed so i can see my good friends the tmi gang <3 in 2023 im going to tally how many times i watch shadowhunters 1x12

6. I got to read a LOT of fanfiction!!! specifically works of @khaleesiofalicante (i love you Dani!!) but fanfiction in itself is so so cool because it gives existing characters a whole new realm and it’s awesome and it’s my coping mechanism.

7. I became even closer to achieving my dreams. Not to be cheesy but i am applying for a Dream internship very very very soon and everything i did this year career wise was really amazing and helped me grow!

8. i think i did a good amount to get out of my comfort zone! even tho it was so scary it did help me grow as well and my 2021 self would NEVER believe what I’ve accomplished!!

9. I realized my worth and have come into myself more! I think knowing yourself is really important and I think I’ve done a good job at establishing who I am (this is similar to #4 but I’m proud of myself) I feel like you can even see this on my blog a bit because I’m not JUST tsc anymore I talk about my life sometimes

10. SOBH!!!!! sobh was one of the highlights of my 2021 and 2022 year and im so thankful for the laughter and the tears it gave me and how much I looked forward to Mondays because of it (and 911!)

here’s to 2023 yay tumblr!!

tagging (sorry if you’ve already been tagged and no pressure!) :

@khaleesiofalicante @becauseshesmiledatme @magnus-the-maqnificent @queenlilith43 @dustandducks @alec-not-alright-wood @tea-and-a-clandestine-agenda @elettralightwood @make-me-ur-aphrodite

Anyone else feel free as well to join!

[urostakako]

@cursedvibes ty for tagging me ik it was a while ago 😭

20 Questions for Fic Writers

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

on my profile 32, i think? (but actually 35)

2. Whats your total word count?

59,890 tho i do have like 56000 more words in orphaned works

3. What fandoms do you write for?

primarily Jujutsu Kaisen, i had some ideas for other fandoms but those remain as wips... honestly after this tsumiki one im not sure i will be writing for a while siebjfneofneod

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

there's a fire in my brain and im burning up (itadori)

this tired old machine is a-rumbling (higuruma)

the devil's after both of us (itafushi)

oh, lay my curses out to rest (tokyo students + shoko)

oh, ashes ashes dust to dust (nobamaki)

(this makes me upset im not gonna lie cuz looking back and reading these im struck by how mid they are but sjdbdkneodks its whatever)

5. do you respond to comments? why or why not?

i do for the most part !! i love receiving comments and i want people to know how much i appreciate it :) i also love when ppl reply to comments i leave on their fics so i want to do the same

6. what's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ummm my Curses series was more one-shots without actual plot.. and as many of those were shibuya or post shibuya they were all pretty angsty beifbekdjeodk. i wouldnt say any have this kind of ending because then there would have to be a story. but i would say the saddest one ive written is 'keep running for the sink but the well is dry'

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

'light of a new morning' for sure. this one actually had some kind of development i would say. also i have bias because this is one of the only three ive written that dont totally suck. though the tsumiki wip im working on for sure will have an even happier ending

8. do you get hate on fic?

im not popular enough for that lol

9. do you write smut?

no

10. do you write crossovers?

i had one in mind a while ago but it escaped me... i never have before but that doesnt mean i never will, even if it is unlikely

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

i dont think so

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

no but id be honored if so. especially if it was one im proud of

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, but im open to the idea

14. whats your all-time favorite ship?

i go through phases so i cant really answer this lol. my interest waxes and wanes. rn though im really obsessed with uroyuki and in a satosugu phase

15. whats a wip you want to finish but probably won't?

there is a shokohime wip i started two or so years ago about shoko's backstory and the developing of their relationship up until the present but at some point there was a research aspect to it and i thought 'ill do it later'. and then i never did 💀 id like to continue it but i still lowk think it will sit there.. i dont have enough motivation to do research ekdbfkenfkdk

there is also a trigun one i started, it was kind of plotless, just vibes, but i wasnt able to get their dialogue right and idk. maybe when i get into a trigun phase again ill find inspiration and continue

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think im good at describing a scene and emotions. im good at making this kind of poetry

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

im soooo shit at dialogue and even when im not shit at it i keep overthinking it and ruin it anyway lol

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i mean ive done it (but i orphaned those... lol) and im doing it now for the tsumiki wip so its fine i guess. but id only do it for languages that i know and if not, after profuse grammar checking. also ofc it has to make sense within the context of the story

19. first fandom you wrote for?

septimus heap eiebdkwbdkebd it was so bad

20. favorite fic you've written?

ill do you one better and say three... and these are the not-mid ones

light of a new morning (tsumiki and itadori)

after hours (mob and reigen)

before-the-storm bloom (uroyuki)

my writing style changed a lot and i think these ones emulate the way it is now the best

idk 20 writers but tagging @that-was-anticlimactic @zukkaoru @blackhallow and anyone else who wants !!

[pansyfemme]

oh man your tags on your previous post. I am also binary in a atypical way; both binaries for the price of one in my case (bigender) and while many consider themselves nonbinary along with that label, I… vehemently do not. ough the amount of. conversations I’ve needed to have with people about they/theming binary trans people and/or people who explicitly do not use they/them. I am not “nonbinary” or a “they/them” because I do not perform gender conformity well enough. gnc-ness or gender subversion in general is not a negation of gender identity. sending you luck out there

thank you, it's really nice to hear from someone feeling similarly. I've had a number of strange discussions about gender, and honestly i can't always tell you where i lie. the way i think of it, i'm male. 1000% male. but tbh. i cannot tell you my "male" and a cis guys "male" is the same. or that my "male" is the same as other trans guys I know. but yknow. while i doubt my gender belongs on the cisnormative idea of a gender binary- i think its probably not what people are expecting as a binary "male" gender- it's male to me, and so i identify as somewhere in the world between binary and not, if you really want to get deep about it. either way tho. if you ask me, im a guy, a binary guy. whether that binary is binary or not.

I'm never really sure why i started the whole gnc thing. To me, it's "crossdressing" but i don't use that word a lot bc it confuses people. I'm not always trying to look like a woman, but it is a bit of a performance for me, i do get a bit of a thrill out of being a spectacle, of being unidentifiable as a man or a woman. And as such, i don't really mind what strangers call me. I get a bit pissed when im fully in boy clothes with my facial hair out and get called a lady, but yknow. whatever. maybe they just thought i was a really cool butch, im fine with that. I'm proud of being a femme, of being a gay dude. I like when im seen as such, but i can't exactly pick and choose how people see me when im purposly blurring the lines. I used to wear my pronouns on my mask back at the beginning of the pandemic, when i first got back into wearing skirts, but that only worked abt 50% of the time. plus, women's bathrooms are cleaner, even if it does terrify me to go into either gendered toilet.

The issue though- arises is that publically, to those who know me, to my classmates, my professors, my friends- my gender isn't ambigious. I am very, extremly clear about my pronouns and my gender, i say it a lot, too much, honestly. But still, they/them is the most commonly used pronoun set for me, despite me being vocal that i use exclusivly he/him. It's not a secret, it is easily found, accesible information. if someone does ask me my pronouns, i don't mind even. at least then, i can make sure that they know them. but no matter what i do, i'm still referred to neutrally. It's not as bad as being called she/her, but it is a bit of a sting to the heart. I'm not a masc guy, i don't care if im "manly enough" to prove im a guy, i just have the simple hope that if i give people clear instructions on how to not make me feel like shit, they will follow them. I know people aren't trying to be malicious, people make assumptions about gender all the time. The fact that i 'pass as nonbinary' without even trying would be a lifetime achievment for other trans people i know. But the reality is, i'm not other trans people- i am just a dude with a 'typical' gender who does things in an 'atypical' way.

The one thing that has come of a lot of this, as my body became more masculine and my clothes more feminine, is that I have found a few people who didn't know my agab. They weren't surprised i'm trans, but i doubt they'd be either if i said i was a cis dude. It's just become that kind of way. I don't claim to pass as cis normally, im not trying to do that or particurally instrested in the ability to do so outside of casual situations and when it might be in my best intrest to try and do so. But the reality is, a lot of people see me, see my beard and my flat chest, my skirts and my longer hair, and they aren't able to catogorize me. And when i say im a boy, they are so confused about why a boy would be wearing what i do to even consider i might not actually have a dick. It's a funny thing.

i dont really know what to say. honestly its like. just up and down. i have no plans to stop presenting the way i do or calling myself the words i do, but i do think about it a lot. I do think about how people view me.

[livingincolorsagain]

hello my dear!!! 2, 4, 12, and 17 for the fic asks???

hey honey! thank you sm for the ask! 💖

from this list

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

y’know, for someone known for their angst, this sure is a surprise, so obvs i went to the others tags to include and typed in angst. 11 fics! now that’s more like it lol

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

you didn’t mention a fic so obviously im gonna go with Rough Surfaces:

there are a lot of details i’m proud of in this fic. like the cats’ personalities, and how Alpine mirrors Sam while Figaro mirrors Bucky.

another small thing that doesn’t really matter, in the last chapter, in my mind, the wine rack is the surprise Bucky’s talking about in the last scene.

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

MCD? I used to be so opposed to it but idk, writing it gives me the space to explore new emotions and ideas and tragedies. I do prefer writing to reading it tho lol

17. What highly specific AU do you want to read or write even though you might be the only person to appreciate it?

oh god, so many. there’s a mafia/mob au im dying to write. the soulmates au i need to finish. a sambucky au based on the proposal because i fucking love that movie and also it’s so them. the wrestling au!!!

[daedalusdavinci]

ao3 wrapped

taken from here. i thought this would be fun!

1. How many words have you written this year?

i published 316,173 words this year, including the drabbles i only posted on tumblr. if i added wips... i dont even want to think about it.

2. How many works did you publish this year?

i wrote 62 tumblr drabbles and posted 31 works on ao3, amounting for a grand total of,, 93 works..... theres.. theres no way..... oh jesus christ

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

you know what i think it has to be hollow americana. i really wanted to write a fic that captured how i felt on roadtrips, and how empty a roadstop in a desert can feel. i wanted something that was haunting and melancholy and hung you up on all of the little details, and i think i pulled that off perfectly. its exactly what i wanted it to be

4. What work of yours has the most hits?

this year home intrusion got 4,033 hits, which i guess makes sense, since its batfam and also not a part of the jdau.

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

ummm all of the jdau, basically. it was such a niche idea and i really just wrote it because i was fucking obsessed with harvey and jason and tfz and its amassed more of a following than i expected it to

6. Favorite title you used

i like “son of dent” because its a direct reference to traditional jewish headstones and i think im soo clever for that, and i love “hollow americana” because it fits the energy of that fic so well. i think “like an oil-stained phoenix” is pretty good, if a little pretentious, but my favorite is definitely “the mystery of the old boathouse” because i really really wanted a title that references old mystery books i grew up reading and ties into the detective au theme, and it fits well!

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

i dont think i ever used song lyrics for anything other than like. titles. i hope i didnt anyway. i know “sharp edges” in “lost days” is a linkin park song, and “temporal shenanigans” is part of the homestuck soundtrack. thats literally it tho

8. Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

i dont even have to look to know that it was bruharv.

9. Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

actually probably jason/nico. theeen bruharv

10. What work was the quickest to write?

one of the drabbles im sure. sometimes i just shit those bitches right out and theyre often under 1k so its liek. lol

11. What work took you the longest to write?

fucking level 2. unless you count the jdau series as a single work, in which case, that

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

one :’) just the one. and im not sure yet if ill keep it

13. What’s your longest work of the year?

i dont even have to look to know that its level 2. level 2 is 126,596 words and 23 chapters long and its my biggest regret

14. What’s your shortest work of the year?

one of the drabbles im sure. but on ao3 its out of sight, a very very short harvmatches drabble i posted before i started posting drabbles on tumblr

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

theee only one in my docs. wdym. its supposed to be another part of the jdau, which i guess is also a massive wip? but i dont like to think of it as that

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

im sure it was fucking “Harvey Dent Adopts Jason Todd” this year

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

harvey and 2f clearly, theyre like babygirls to me. but writing jason (grace and todd) is also very cool

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

bruce. that insufferable old whore. maybe if dc could just stop being stupid and give him af ucking consistent characterization, i wouldnt have so many PROBLEMS. im out here merging different sources like its a game. build your own bruce. i hate it here.

but also harvey ive done so much goddamn research to try and write him right and i sitll worry all the time that its not enough

19. What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

personally i want to explore some bitches /j

no but like idk man im really tired and writings been really hard lately and ill be happy to just write anything and feel good about it after

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

i reread the stupid jdau all the time just so i dont fuck up the next installment

21. How many kudos in total did you get this year?

3,145, apparently!

22. Which work has the most comments?

level 2 has the most comments at 31. which is kind of surprising, because it did not do very well otherwise!

23. Did you do any collaborative works this year?

nope

24. Did you write any gifts this year?

i wrote literally dozens of requests which are all sort of gifts i think, but in terms of literal gifts on ao3, i gave @roomfulloferidans many

25. Did you receive any gifts this year?

nope. things were not written for me nor was i given an Ao3 Gift(TM). but eri drew some very nice pictures for me! they drew equius from ammfh and my ocs and i have them saved on my computer so i can come back and look at them all the time

26. What’s your most common category?

its M/M because im gay and i think men are hot

27. What do you listen to while writing?

i listen to white noise if im really struggling to focus, otherwise ill loop a playlist or a single song. its switched around a ton over the year but right this second im looping an arcadian wild playlist i made that has other bands with similar sounds on it in addition to the entire arcadian wild discography

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

also hollow americana, for reasons i already said

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

bro. im grabbing you by the shoulders right now. i wrote 300k words. i promise you i do not know the answer to that.

i know i like some of the headcanon stuff i put in starting over and hollow americana has a lot of good lines but i cant think beyond that even tho there are probably some real bangers because i wrote 300k words and i cant remember all of them

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

now. this may blow your mind. but. did you know. that if you dont like your ocs. you can just... get rid of them. and start over? still reeling from that one tbh

[twildflower]

Long awaited doodle dump lmaooo its cut off bc i have some i want to spotlight and they make the post too long n i dont wanna like clog up peoples tl :3

Also mature tag is bc i talk abt some rlly uh fucked up stuff under cut

This is like um sorry i was in a silly goofy chinese mode whoopsies i did translate it tho its not direct translation bc uh chinese and english diff umm its kinda weird in english it’s actually more like green saying did gold teach you that again but i like my personal translation better also look at my handwriting that every single person ive known in my life say is ugly as fuck wooooooo

Hehe Silver in Golds clothes and Reds hat :3 i like this alot i was gonna add gold and red as you can see but i didnt finish yet I’ll probably repost it when i draw it

バニバニガール！i love すりぃ’s バニー go check it out its a really fun song about bunny (girl)s also damn. That hand. It does not look like its drawn by me.

Cutoff here theres a few doodles im not too proud of/not very uh rated e for everyone/random doodles so they will be under the cut B)

Silver with like ribbon tied on his hair :3

This is based off like a pixiv artist’s regold drawings of like red taking gold’s eye n eating it or smth im very interested in like this specific. Uh. Thing. Niche? Idk i just like the idea of like. Hehe. Stolen eye or smth sorry im very sick in the head :3 i see alot of like amputation and other weird stuff on pixiv too from like all the fandoms ive been in but thats not really my thing i really like this eye thing tho okay what the hell im marking this thing as mature im talking abt way too mature stuff

Eerr random eye doodle that turned into a full thing but i wanted to draw goggles too so eh its not very correct tho lmao also hi yes my ugly ass handwriting again i think its fine as long as its not unintelligible yk I don’t know why like everyone i know well most people say its bad like. Grow up at least its readable >:(

This one makes me want to mark this post as mature but ehhhh nah ‘s fine i think. This was written before the second one sorry. I will just be fr now I have been drawing so many like this kinda faces and sometimes anatomy poses bc!!!! I am drawing. Cool. This is just the one that looks better after a few practices lol. :3 Also i like drew the small part of the hair somewhere but idk where’s that paper my whole school binder is just fucking messy af bc i keep going thru where my doodles are. So yeah that thing is probably never going to be found again until i throw papers away or study for exams which is like a month later i think idk im gonna kms i hate maths im so failing mathswhy is it functions i dont understand shit

The fucking maid day doodle thing its so fucking ugly lmaooooo pls im gonna die

Sorry i did not realized i rambled so much under almost every doodle im very scatterbrained im actually so sorry i dont know why i do this im going to fucking cry i do this with literally anything even in schoolwork okay its so laye i haeto sleep maybe ill edit the long brambles out on laptop tmr my phone is lagging the shit out

[nar-nia]

hi, love

i discovered ur blog by a total accident, looking for something to read, while scrolling through heeseung tag (cuz im a simp) i saw the babysitters club teaser, and i was rly excited to say the least, after u posted i honestly fell in love with ur writing style, the way u describe things and the amazing plot <33, i remember i reread it with heart eyes, not kidding

so naturally i started reading all the other fics for enhypen boys and the current heeseung series has me in chokehold!!! it's truly amazing and im always super super excited for fridays! the story line is phenomenal even though hee is a silly boy *sigh* hope he will do better!

also the short angsty (1:40 pm) drabble u posted recently omg it was just wow, i felt it in my heart, kinda relatable ngl <\3 where is my hee *shaking my head*

anyway

im rly confused why ur works are not receiving the attention and love they deserve, its really sad :((( i hope it doesn't bother u that much tho, but trust me i try rly hard to send ask everytime u post so at least u know there is someone here!! I AM!!!!!✨

im very thankful for this blog its nice, fun, quiet and quite a fantastic place, i feel rly cozy coming here and rereading ur works is always fun, but it might be a little creepy how many times i read baby sitting club - but what can i say it is my comfort fic <33

im sorry if u are having hard time, nina!!! i think u are amazing and ur art is truly stunning!! *smooch on the forehead*, whatever u are doing right now im proud of u, keep going!!

this message reminded of that one meme/copy pasta tho

 If Nina has million number of fans i am one of them if nina has ten fans i am one of them if nina have only one fan and that is me if nina has no fans, that means i am no more on the earth . if world against nina, i am against the world. i love #nina till my last breath.. .. Die Hard fan of nina

your ask actually made me cry a bit, it was so sweet and kind 💖 thank you so much.

aren't we all simps for heeseung? that guy is just so * loud screaming* but i'm glad that you discovered my stories thanks to it 🤭 and the babysitters club! i'm still so proud of this story, i think i had heart eyes while writing it too 😅 but hearing that you loved it makes me really happy.

and the heeseung story, yay 🥰 it breaks my heart every time i have to write something else than sweet moments for y/n and hee but it has to be 😔 not for much longer though, if i'm allowed to say this little spoiler!

i'm sorry that you can relate to the drabble 😕 it was a spontaneous idea and involved a lot of self-insertion so i know how you feel. i'm not heeseung but i'm sending you a big hug anyways <33

I AM SO GLAD THAT YOU ARE HERE 💖💖 it makes me really happy seeing your asks after every chapter, and it motivates me even more to write new chapters. i don't mind how many people read my stories as long as the ones that do enjoy it 😊 i'm already amazed that other people than my friends actually love what i'm doing here. and i'm grateful that you are here <33

now this is the part where i started crying because not only did you say so many nice things about my blog but also the fact that the babysitters club is your comfort fic? it's definitely not creepy if you've reread it a lot of times, it's so sweet and kind and i'm really getting emotional right now. please read it as often as you want, i'm glad it can give you comfort!

i already feel better reading your ask (even though i said i was crying right before... IT WAS HAPPY TEARS) <33

thank you thank you thank you 💖💖

[retroaria]

Sapnap: Fluff Alphabet

cc!Sapnap x reader

pronouns: gender neutral

warnings: just swearing

here’s my 500 Follower Event ^o^

A is for Affection (How do they like to show affection?)

sapnap would give you so many compliments omg. he loves making you all smiley and blushy :) he just wants to make sure that you are always aware of the fact that he thinks you’re the most perfect thing to ever exist

B is for Bond (What kind of bond do you guys have? What could your relationship be labeled as?)

the best friend couple!!! sapnap tells you literally everything. any drama going on or any strong emotions he’s feeling, you know about it. most of the time, the second something happens his brain immediately goes “omg i have to tell y/n”. you guys always complain about the same things and get excited over the same things. you are genuinely one of the most important people in his life and he doesn’t know how he’d do it without you.

C is for Comfort (How do they comfort their s/o?)

he will literally drop everything just to hold you and not speak for like hours if you so needed. he strikes me as a naturally comforting person to the people he really cares about so I say he gets an A+ in this department

D is for Dates (What are dates with them like?)

dates with sapnap are either really chill or super fun. he’s the type of guy that would take you to play laser tag or to an arcade or a trampoline park. he’s like a little kid i love sapnap :3

E is for Emotions (How do they express their emotions around you?)

he’s a pretty expressive person when it comes to certain things. at the very least he definitely wears his heart on his sleeve a little so it isn’t hard to tell even if he does try hiding stuff. and like I said he tells you everything.

F is for Fiancé (How long into the relationship before they propose?)

I feel like he’s so young and he really just wouldn’t be thinking about that too seriously for awhile. like he loves you and you guys have talked about having a future together but he isn’t in any rush at all. hell just do it when he feels is the right time not matter how long it takes.

G is for Gentle (Are they gentle?)

it depends on the situation. he’s definitely the type of guy to pick you up from a super comfy position and just body slam you on the bed. but if he can tell you’re not in the mood to play around like that he’ll just sit down and hold you, so yeah he can be gentle. but most of the time be prepared for playful fist fights and getting picked up and thrown every now and then lol.

H is for Hand Holding (How do they like hand holding?)

sapnap always holds your hand. in fact he makes an effort to search for it whenever you aren’t holding hands. and sometimes he’ll even get whiny about it especially with like a lot of people around he’ll be like, “babe, why aren’t you holding my hand :( what if I get lost how are you gonna find me this place is big”

I is for I Love You (Who said “I love you” first?)

he did !! the first time sapnap said “I love you” was probably one of his most confident moments. he was so proud to be able to say it and so sure of himself and his feelings for you.

J is Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

YES OH MY GOD. he gets super jealous and it’s so easy to tell omg. his attitude starts to get like super bad and he is very clearly annoyed by the situation. he won’t ever be too overbearing about it and if you ever feel like he is once you sit him down and explain that he’ll back off a bit. but he’s still gonna be bothered by it so just always remind him that he love him and no one else.

K is for Kiss (What’s kissing them like?)

THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IM ACTUALLY GOING TO BE DESCRIPTIVE SO IM SORRY IF ITS CRINGE. anyways, he’d be a pretty deep kisser but not like full on making out every single time. he just likes to make them last and he isn’t one to just give you random kisses all throughout the day so it always feels special. kissing him makes you feel all warm and happy inside.

L is for Love Language (What’s their love language?)

sapnaps love language is quality time or acts of service!! i’d say mainly quality time. even while long distance he just likes having you on call while he does stuff or even just complaining to you about how tired he is while actively not going to bed so he can keep talking to you lol. he just likes having you around it’s a huge comfort for him. i say acts of service because he would get so giddy and happy anytime you did something special for him. he would show it off and brag about it forever and it would genuinely mean so much to him aahhajdxh i love sapnap

M is for Memories (Their favourite memory with their s/o?)

For your first time seeing each other irl, sapnap flew to where you live and you guys spent a whole week together. his favorite memories are definitely from that first week of seeing each other in person. of course you guys already had an amazing relationship while long distance, but there’s something so different about finally meeting the person you’re with in real life. it felt like he had to start over from scratch and you guys had to get to know each other all over again. also the idea of now having to build a physical bond. it was just such an amazing and beautiful experience. definitely the one that made him realize he really is in love with you.

N is for Nicknames (Their favourite nicknames given and received?)

IM SO BAD AT THINKING OF CUTE NAMES USHSJDH. probably just babe tho lol. for fem!readers, i can totally picture him using princess in a slightly sarcastic tone.

O is for Open (At what point do they start opening up to you about their life and feelings?)

mmm i’d say he actually starts opening up to you pretty early into the relationship. If you guys were like really close friends before hand he’s definitely already opened up to you. He doesn’t really have that many people in his life that he doesn’t trust.

P is for PDA (Are they into PDA?)

not really but he isn’t like super shy about it if that makes sense ??? like he’s 100% fine with hand holding, hugging, and light pecks when saying hello or goodbye.

Q is for Quiz (How much do they remember about you?)

I don’t think he really tries to remember stuff but he just does and he’s always making connections to you and things he sees and stuff it’s so cute :)

R is for Romantic (How romantic are they?)

he tries but he isn’t exactly the most romantic boy. like I said before you guys have a best friend type of connection so when it comes to romance he doesn’t go too above and beyond because he just doesn’t feel like he needs to. but on special occasions he will do something nice for you. He likes taking you out places !!

S is for Security (How protective/possessive are they?)

very much of both. once again, total sapnap vibes. i’d say he’s a lot more possessive than protective. he would never stop you from doing things like going out without him and having guy friends or making flirty jokes. he trusts you so much partly cus he’s a little narcissistic LMAO. but when a serious threat comes about he can get kinda crazy.

T is for Try (How much effort do they put into the relationship?)

GAAAAAA HE PUTS SO MUCH EFFORT IN!! you would probably be like his first ever serious partner so he would try his best at literally everything. in the beginning of the relationship you could totally tell how nervous he was at times but as you guys got more comfortable he just became an effortlessly amazing bf

U is for Uphold (How do they show you they’re proud? What kind of support do they give you?)

he talks about you so muchjahsjxjxh mostly to dream and george or on stream and he brags about you too. he can get pretty cocky about it but his friends can’t get mad because it’s literally adorable how whipped he is.

V is for Vaunt (Do they like to show off?)

YES OF COURSE !!! it’s sapnap guys…come on. literally any little accomplishment you make is turned into a way bigger deal than it should be because of him. he’s so proud of for literally just existing and he talks about all the cool stuff you’ve done all the time

W is for Wild Card (A random fluff headcanon.)

you guys really like going to different food places and eating different items compared to other places. THIS IS SO RANDOM LMAOO but like…sapnap would definitely have fun doing that

X is for X-ray (How well can they read you and your emotions/feelings?)

mmm he can usually tell if you’re acting strange or being distant. he cant always figure out exactly what’s wrong but he knows it’s something and he would confront you about it like almost immediately or whenever he thought would be a good time for you

Y is for Yearning (How much do they miss their s/o when they’re gone?)

he literally talks about you non stop when you’re apart. and when you guys are on the phone he comes up with all these plans for you guys to do when you see each other again and he always wants you to join vc on his streams if you can. in conclusion he misses you like crazy

Z is for Zebra (What kind of pet would they want with their s/o?)

A CAT!! or like a bearded dragon lol.

IM SO SORRY IVE BEEN GONE FOR LIKE TWO WEEKS HAGSKDHD

school is literally kicking my ass so hard man 😔

i’m gonna try to write more, working on a karlnap weed fic rn too LMAO

I’m taking a major creative writing class rn so between writing for school and writing for tumblr i am so drained but i promise i’ll get back into the swing of things soon :)

love you guys, thank you for everything and stay safe <333

@crackityy @fantasy-innit @joyfullymulti @k-l-a-w-s

[batteryrose]

im late but ASK GAME TIME!! 1, 9, 21, 28, 36

Hey Mo I love you!! And that's a lot of numbers!!! Fine I'll answer them

Which of your fics would you keep the basic plot of but rewrite completely?

Wouldn't mind rewriting and bettering Tragedy Farce if only I have THE GODDAMN TIME

You also have to kill the perfectionist in you sometimes. I'd rather move on and make some other funky stuff

Thoughts on cliffhangers.

What about cliffhangers. I can be tricked into thinking bad stories are good if they have a good cliffhangers in every chapter or something....... So I'd say they're pretty important. You gotta make people keep reading somehow! I'm pretty bad at it myself though.

Can you accurately predict how long your fics are going to be? If you can, what's your secret?

I can't really. There is some intuition in shorter ones though. Usually those one shots with only one scene that I like writing will end up around 2k words. Somehow that's just how long all of them would be without me even checking the word count. And it would be enough, too. Crazy

As for my longer fics, they always end up double the amount of what I predicted lol

Any writing advice that works for you and you feel like sharing?

I think to write often you have to be amongst writers. Have some writer friends like this, who tags you in.. Asks games.

Seriously though, it seems to work best. Reading all your friends works and throwing your own out there to be read. It's a rhythmic cycle. There's nothing else more motivating. As for writing longer fics, I have a habit of not talking/sharing wips about it to anyone until it's finished. I probably should! You probably should. You can probably get better ideas from other people. You might also catch mistakes early. Either way, Use People.

What else... Mmmmmoh I usually continue reading a book first before I start writing because then the words flows out easier. But that might just be because I'm not a native english speaker. Get the english brain going. I think it'll work for everyone though.

When I'm so lazy and stubborn to write anything, I'll use an alarm to do those 25 min writing sprints. This I rarely do. It's only for my long fics that I procrastinate on horribly. It sort of works tho and after some days I'd start writing on my own without needing the alarm.

One other thing too maybe: draft on phone and edit on computer! Especially porn!! Cannot for the love of me ever do that on computer

How do you come up with fic titles? What's the one you're most proud of?

I like to reference things in titles basically. I'm not creative. If I'm stumped then I'll just steal some other people's titles. The Tragedy Farce one, for example, is a title of a philosophy book written by Slavoj Zizek, which is also referencing Marx's quote about Napoleon that says: "history repeats, first as tragedy then as Farce" or something like that (I think he was specifically talking about Napoleon III). 'Less than Nothing' is also a zizek book title, while also being something Leon himself said once. It's great.

Some other titles that reference things:

Sleipnir is a horse in nordic mythology who is ridden by Odin, who has eight legs, like the,,, eight princes of Rhodolite. So "Sleipnir's Second Limb" just means Chevalier. Through the pov character's view, he is seen as some sort of a God.

I know Nothing about norse mythology. I believe I was searching for just about any horse god out there to reference. I think this one is perfect.

"If the mountain won't come to Mochammad," and "God Between Us and All Harm" are both people sayings that I found by googling. I'm most proud of the Muhammad one. It fits PERFECTLY with Adam's dumb predicament there. As for the second one, it just sounds visceral with the content of the fic.

'Symptoms of Rosette Disease' is just some words. Honestly thinking of changing it. Rosette disease itself is a fascinating plant disease, that's why I used it. And it's supposed to mean the underlying prejudice and inequality that exists in Rhodolite, the kingdom of roses, or something. I'm Trying to be profound here

'The Skies Have Been Empty' is also a good one... It's just Wellington noticing that over the centuries the stars have been less visible (because of light pollution babyyyyyyyyyyyy) and since stars was how people find their way in the past, he now has lost his way in life, Something Something

That's all I have to say about titles. I just woke up.

[nako-doodles]

🌸BEST OF 2021: 🌸

post your favorite or most popular post from each month this year!

thank you for thinking of me darlings @rumue @kithtaehyung @minieggukie @hyunsung @rainycle @intronnevermind @min-boongie @jeonjcngkook @bisexualrapline @jeonbunkook @bangguks @suga-ssi @kkulmoon 💖✨

embarrassingly enough i barely make enough content to maintain a monthly schedule so this should be fairly simple🤣🤣 sophomore year of pixel-ing and you would think id be better at planning and time management 🤣🤣🤣

i feel like everyone has done this already so im going to poke @jung-koook @taeunwoo @gimbapchefs @hobeah @sugaftrm @blueandtaes @userjiminie @abcdefghi--lmnopqrstuvwxyzz @taee @sugajimin @slipped-away to tag me in theirs so i can relive my fave posts in 2021 💖✨

🌟 JANUARY

most popular: you gucci?

favourite: hello, we are dts!

⤷ i forgot i made both of these for january tbh. i only remember being stressed about frame matching for this gif of the tannies dancing, but that came out new years eve oops (i kept this in my 2021 folder tho? it sounds right?)

🌟 FEBRUARY

favourite: bts rpg mockup: taemon

⤷ the inauguration of my rpg mockups! even tho these didnt get that many notes, i learned a LOT about appropriate pixel size vs grid size, color theory, sprite animation, formatting menus, how much hubris i had for undertaking the work of professionals w my poor overworked laptop and gimp 2.10. i had all 7 members mocked out but there were too many math and formatting mistakes in my base for my perfectionist self to tolerate making more.....a moment of silence for chimrub, ggukdian, jinari (神) and their unrealized potential.........

🌟 MARCH

most popular: bts rpg mockup: hoba

favourite: bts rpg mockup: erljönig

⤷ in true 94z soulmate fashion, these two practically have the same note count, but im just sliiiiiiightly more partial to joon bc i actually planned out his palette beforehand! i know! me! planning ahead!!!! im also really proud of getting hobi's item skin just right.......those rainbows gave me so much grief bc airbrushing in squares is counter-intuitive

🌟 APRIL

most popular: piu~! u quiz on the block jinnie

⤷ what? you thought i would see u quiz on the block jin and NOT pixel him? banish the thought. i think this is the last time this year i leaned this heavily realistic rather than the more traditional abstract style of the medium. both have its challenges, but i find this more realistic approach to be less maddening despite the smaller size of pixel bc i didnt have to worry about details as much. and not worry my snap to grid function didnt poop out on me, gimp

🌟 JUNE

most popular: tiny tan dynamite teaser

favourite: the applejinnie doesnt fall far from the tree

⤷ im actually mad proud of both of these ngl 🤣🤣🤣 for the tinytans, im really proud that i got their complicated motions a lot smoother than i did w chilsung, or w the rollerblade chaos. plus they look like they just escaped from my folders to wreck havoc i love my lil minions so much 🥺🥺🥺 yes. all ～60 frames of utter frustration, tears, and insanity. cel animators deserve all of the accolades holy fuck. for applejinnie, i was testing out a new pixel style, and i was so surprised it all worked out!!!! hes one of my fave headers that ive made, even tho i spent 10 minutes drawing him, and 4 days trying to get his apple to bounce correctly.

🌟 AUGUST

most popular: moonprince jinnie

favourite: whats melting?: a butter jinnie game

⤷ moonprince jinnie is my first attempt at making those ✨aesthetic✨ pixel art loops, even tho theres only 10 frames in mine, and like....300 frames in the traditional kind........either way im super proud of him and im glad yall agree 🥺🥺🥺 butter jinnie was actually just gonna be like 3 separate jinnies that gradually morphed into a behemoth of a project like i genuinely had no idea how it went from 'oooo dilf jin' to 'lets make a whole butter themed game around this' yoongi should have told me the song is not actually about butter

🌟 OCTOBER

favourite: pumpking patch kids

⤷ this might be my favorite thing ive ever drawn this year. like. look at them being chaos and wrecking havoc on those poor pumpkings! anyways im still trying to manifest a 🕯halloween practice vers🕯 cov*d begone! leave!

🌟 DECEMBER

most popular: happyjinnieday!

favourite: star turned villain bts & cafe date taehyung

⤷ december may seem to be surprisingly prolific for me, but its bc i spent most of october, all of november, and half of december to make all the things that came out 🤣🤣🤣 im just proud i got jin's applejinnie website up on time, and even though i missed christmas, at least the start turned villain post came out this year! i cried literal tears of blood trying to get all the details right but it was worth it™️ im also really proud of how tae came out even though i spent a fraction of time on him vs. star turned villain 🤣🤣🤣

[abbywritesstuff]

Could I request a Neji (from Naruto) fluffy (little ANGSTY if you want). My idea was that the reader has this huge crush on Neji and would LITTERALLY do anything for him, but he is so rude to her and one day she just kinda breaks down in front of him and asks why he hates her when all she ever does is try to please him? Then it ends in some cute fluffy stuff?? Ignore if you wanna lol don't feel pressured to do this!

❒ break down

a/n : i love this prompt so much wtf i was so excited to write this 😩‼️im not too proud of the results tho im also experimenting with new fic formats so my posts are gonna look weird for a hot sec im also so fucking sorry this took me 7 years to write 💀.

tags/cw : kinda fluffy at the end, neji being an asshole, cursing and this not being proofread <3

pairing : neji x reader

you had the biggest crush on neji

everyone knew

it was obvious. even neji knew you liked him.

before he left for a mission, you were always there at the gates to tell him “good luck” and brought him small presents

every single time he tells you “thanks but you can keep it. i don’t need your pathetic gifts.”

you’ve never given up though, and you didn’t plan to.

but today was different.

team 3 was coming back from a failed mission. you didn’t know too much about it though.

you watched as they said their goodbyes, heading in opposite directions

you stopped neji and said, “hey neji, can i talk to you for a sec?” he looked hesitant for a second, then nodded.

the hyuga looked more tense than usual, but you thought nothing of it. he was probably just tired from his mission, right?

“so..how was your mission? was it easy? i bet it was!” you beamed. “how the mission went is none of your business, y/n. now what do you want?” he sighed “someone’s a little grumpy today” you teased. he just glared at you in return.

“so..uhm, how come you’ve never accepted any of the gifts i’ve gave you? do you not like them or-” neji cut you off. “-i never asked for your childish gifts in the first place. i don’t have to accept something i don’t want or need.”

his words stung. “but i’ve tried to be really nice to you and i take time out of my day to make presents for you..” you began to trail off

“again, i never asked you to be nice, or to make me your pitiful gifts. grow up already, y/n. this is getting annoying.” he spat

your throat began to feel hot and tight and your eyes began to sting, tears building up on your lashes. you lowered your head so neji couldn’t see your face. you thought it would just add to your embarrassment.

as neji walked away, he mentally hit himself. ‘why did i say all of that? i didn’t even mean it’ he thought. then he heard sniffling. he stopped for a second, internally debating whether he should go and comfort your or keep walking.

he turned around and saw you crying. “...y/n..i would like to apologi-“ “-no, neji. don’t even finish that sentence. why do you hate me? all i ever do is try to please you, and in return you treat me like shit. i’m sorry for annoying you, but it doesn’t matter if you like me back or not. that gives you no right to constantly call me ‘childish’ or ‘pathetic’. you constantly put me down when i’m simply just being a decent human being, and trying to win your affection.”

he was shocked. he never meant to make you feel like that. he wasn’t sure what his intentions were in the first place. all he knew was that he loved you. and it scared him.

now you were the one walking away. neji quickly grabbed your wrist. “let go of me.” you said meekly.

he sighed and said “y/n please, listen.” you said nothing.

“i never meant to make you feel like that. i’m sorry, it was wrong of me, and i don’t expect you to forgive me right away. but please know that you don’t annoy me, at all. it’s quite the opposite, actually.” he muttered the last part lol

“stop messing around neji. you literally just said ‘i was annoying’, and that ‘i should grow up.’” you frowned.

“i know, and believe me when i say i didn’t mean any of it. the truth is, i’m actually quite fond of you.” neji huffed out. he let go of your wrist

“...are you confessing to me?”

“if thats what you want to call it, yes.”

“that was a terrible love confession, but ill take it. i can’t just forgive you right away though, what you said really hurt.”

“then let me make it up to you. give me a chance?”

“of course.”

please do not copy my work, or repost it anywhere (re-blogs are alr <3.)

[junova]

never been in love — single dad!steve (headcannon)

pairing: single dad!steve x teacher!reader

abstract: the one where steve likes you a lot and his daughter does too. 

warnings: it gets a lil smutty towards the end (18+) not really tho, this is so much longer than i intended jfc, bucky being kind of a dick, hint of daddy kink, cheating? 

[a/n]: this was totally inspired by @marvelouspeterparker​ post. i read it and it pulled me out of my writers block so thank u ! also this is so unnecessarily long but i have no excuse other than im a hoe for steve rogers?? 

*** gif isnt mine — i forgot creds srry :/

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oh god this one is going to hUrt me

but can you just imagine when steve really gets to see you, not just in passing as he picks up his daughter

he nearly shits himself because how in the hell had he not noticed you before?

one any given day, he’s right on time to pick up shai

he’s always punctual

— until today

not only was he late, but he was an hour late and in his mess of mind he was fully convinced they’d never let him bring her to the school again

to make matters even worse his phone had died and his cable was nowhere to be found in his dying, old pick up truck

not to mention his sweet little angel, more than likely frightened out of her mind

— but he was so wrong

practically in a full sprint, he quickly made his way to shai’s classroom when he found her perfectly peaceful while she talked with her teacher

even though, she was facing him and could see him she paid him no mind. it didn’t faze her that her father was so late because you had stayed to keep her company

“well, it looks like he finally decided to show up.” shai spoke to you, loud enough so her father in the doorway could her. the edge in her tone pushing sassy all the way through

of course as soon as shai found her way in steve’s arms he profusely apologized and graciously thanked you for staying with her saying he would repay you for it

— and it definitely had nothing to do with how attracted steve was to you. nope. not at all

you dismissed his gesture, it was a delight to be with shai and you told him such but you had a feeling he wouldn’t let it go

— and he didn’t

the very next day, when he dropped shai off and handed you a dozen pastries he had made fresh this morning

the way you gushed over it, cheekbones high and happy over his kindness made steve’s heart swell

they were still warm and you just couldn’t believe he made these with his bare hands

it was easily the kindest gift anyone ever gave you and you told him that too before you could stop yourself

then he just started bringing you a pastry or two every other day, even if you’d refused them the next day he would bring double the amount he brought the day before

you stopped refusing him bc you already felt guilt since he wouldn’t let you pay for a single one

after two weeks, steve asked you out. you weren’t shocked he had, he had been buttering you up but no matter how charming you thought he was you couldn’t.

he was a parent of one of your students and you just couldn’t allow yourself to go there

it wasn’t necessarily against the rules, but it was frowned upon

accepting your rejection with grace and humility he grabbed shai before bidding you goodbye that day

you thought that was the end of it, until you saw him the following friday night at the bar you frequented at

— alone

you wanted to talk to him, the tequila in your system giving you an irresistible urge to but you were on a date with on of your friends’ coworkers

james buchanan barnes

he definitely was a smooth taker, those dazzling blue eyes sparkling like they knew something you didn’t

you really wanted to be interested, he was a loose shape of a man you’d dream about. maybe you could even pretend he was the one you really wanted

not when steve was sitting at the bar, alone.

but you left that thought behind and you convinced yourself you really were smitten with bucky

two weeks later, bucky and you had been on a few dates and he seemed to like you but you knew you had to end things.

whatever little fling you had going on

your heart got more of kick when steve used to bring you pastries in the morning before class than when bucky kissed you after your first date.

then he asked if you would come to his house, he was having a small get together and would love if you’d be there

— reluctantly, you went

bucky’s friends were nice, each one of them making you feel welcomed into their tight circle.

it turned into a better night than you thought and bucky seemed to be super touchy, guiding you onto his lap as you sat around the fire in his patio

natasha, bucky’s long friend since high school, had you all in fits on the stories from the past

everyone was too busy reeling to recognize his presence but you had the to be blind not to

there steve stood gaping at you’d like you were a ghost, certainly surprised to see you perched on bucky’s lap

yep you wanted to just crawl under a whole a stay there forever

“Glad to see you showed up, punk.” Bucky gesturing for him to make his way over to you, even when you pulled at the sleeve of his henley to stop him.

— of course your efforts to tame bucky in did nothing

he grabbed a cold one before making his way to the two of you

and dear god was it as awkward as ever

“Honey, this is my best friend, Steve.” Honey? He had never called you anything besides your name. By the way he pulled you even closer to him made you think there was something else entirely going on.

you certainly didn’t miss the way steve’s jaw clenched or as he held his right hand picking at the piece of bark rather aggressively

“Um, we actually know each other. Shai is in my class, actually.” Feeling rather suffocated by the weight of Bucky’s arms now that the man you felt too much for was here. “Really? I had no idea.”

steve’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, infuriated. it wasn’t just that bucky knew you were shai’s teacher but he knew just how much steve liked you.

he didn’t shut up about you since he you with his daughter — something inside him changing in an instance

it wasn’t just that he thought you were the most wonderful woman he’d me — shai also raved over you

shai’s mother leaving a gaping whole in her heart she didn’t quite understand at the age of five was filled by you

you were kind to her, your patience never wearing thin as you gave her the attention she deserved

it may be your job but you enjoyed every moment with her and steve noticed

“Oh? She’s the one you would wake up an hour early for to make the pastries?” Bucky blurted out.

he woke up an early just to make those for you?

the way steve looked at the ground, grinding his fingertip against the label of his beer made you want to cry. his neck flaring pink at the embarrassment only made you wish you were in his arm instead

— even more than you already did

“You really should have seen the smile on his face when he came back from the school gushing over how much you liked what he had made.”

Bucky tightened his arm around your waist before saying. “Or when you reject him, I still can’t decide which is better.”

“That’s enough, James.” You tone harsh, before you ripped yourself away.

you couldn’t even look at steve, you don’t think your heart could handle it so you practically sprinted to your car

you needed to get the fuck out of here

until you reached for you keys, but they weren’t in your pocket

“Looking for these?” His hands looping through your keys giving it a twirl. “Star Wars fan?” Steve gesturing to you baby yoda key chain. “Maybe just a tad.”

“Thank you, Steve.” He tried to ignore the jump you ignited in his heart whenever you said his name.

handing your keys, he turned away from you, heading back into the house until you yanked him forward

the force so strong he though he was going to body slam into you before he pushing his weight against the car.....and you

“I’m sorry about, Bucky. I never would have gone out with him if I knew you two were friends.” You admitted while Steve just stood there looking embarrassed.

god did you always have to ruin everything

“I-I just, um, have these feelings for you. These very complicated feelings that make me want to throw every morally sound thought I have to the wind.”

“Which thought did you want to get rid of right now?” Stepping outside of his comfort zone, Steve grabbed your hands and just on instinct alone you cradled his face like it was the most natural act in the world. Like you had done it a thousand times.

“I mean, for one I’m telling myself I shouldn’t be this close to you.” Steve taking you by surprise as he tilted his head to the side, kissing the palm of your hand.

did he really just-

“What else, sweet girl?”

oh, you really were a goner

“I don’t know.” You spoke softly. Admitting to not only him but yourself — you couldn’t think when he was this close to you.

“Oh, but I think you do.” Steve diving right in as he latched his plump lips to your neck. Making whispers of his name drip off your tongue.

before you register what was happening steve had you pressed up against the car, rough hands gripping your thighs as your legs clinged to his slim waist

not to mention the ratio from his broad shoulders to his hips had your pussy drowning more

making you forget why you’d ever rejected him in the first place and he had hardly even touched you yet

then his lips met yours and you knew he had ruined you for anyone else. no one would ever compare to him and not anyone from your past did.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, completely in awe of what Steve was capable of doing to you in a matter of seconds. The proud smirk he wore in great contrast to what he felt back by the fire when he saw your body entangled with Bucky.

“If I ever see you sitting on my best friend’s lap again, I will go fucking crazy. Do you understand?” Steve eyes burning with envy.

“Yes, Daddy.”

brb gonna cry that i don’t have my very own steve rogers rip 

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 tags: @tonystankschild​ @parkastoria​ @kayteewritessteve​