Tumgik
#okay so this is a couple years old and i completely forgot to post it until i found it again after sorting through my files
jaiette · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
the ceramicist 🍂🍁
143 notes · View notes
anurst · 9 months
Text
Girl Bradshaw
Summary: the moment of truth. Can you and Bradley work out your differences?
A/n: oml im so sorry for the long wait. i just kind dropped off the face of the earth. i didnt really have any motivation to write but now i'm back! this chap is kinda short but another will be posted on Tuesday :D
Warning(s): angst, estranged family
Part 9: Sometimes I wish I was 10
Tumblr media
Before Jake, you never really fully believed in cloud nine. Now though, as you giddily walk through the halls of camp, your body tingles with newfound excitement. Electricity practically flows through your veins.
"I take it the date went well?" Amy's voice comes from behind you. Normally, you would have chastised her for sneaking up on you, but for now, you just smile as your cheeks slightly redden. Amy's smile widens even more as she latches onto your arm. "Oh my gosh! You have to tell me everything! And, I MEAN everything!" The both of you giggle as you push open the door to the gym.
The rest of your team turns to the pair of you and it's no secret that they're curious about your date. Carlos certainly isn't subtle as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Jensen's the only one (besides Amy) who vocally asks you how you went. Just as you're about to recount last night's events, the doors swing open and a panting Bradley stands there.
Silence spreads for a couple seconds as Bradley gathers his breath. Offering a shaky smile, he rubs at the back of his neck. "Sorry for, uh, barging in, but I'm here to talk to Braidy."
When Nolan clears his throat, you roll your eyes and turn to face Jensen again. "We'll give you two a minute," he says and your eyes widen. No way he was actually going to leave you alone with Bradley?
Jensen gives you a small pat on the shoulder as your team shuffles by and out of the gym. The door closes behind them and each step that Bradley takes towards you seems to get louder.
Your fists clenched tightly together as you will yourself not to turn around. Turning around means acknowledging that Bradley's standing less than five feet away from you. The brother who abandoned you and seemingly forgot your existence bites his lip as he tries to find the right words. "(y/)– Braidy, please just hear me out."
"What if I don't want to?" 'Idiot, why'd you respond?'
"I'll keep finding you and repeating what I'm going to say. I'll keep apologizing until the world stops spinning. I know that sorry doesn't make up for the years of pain I put you through. That sorry won't just magically fix us. That it won't undo all the words I said. But, please Braidy, at least let me make it up to you."
Make it up to you? What if there's nothing that can be done? What if you're finally done with Bradley and that painful chapter of your life?
"I don't care Bradley. I don't want to fix us."
"Braidy, you're my sister–"
"SO I WASN'T YOUR SISTER BACK THEN?" you yell before you can properly think. There's a heavy burn in your chest and a part of you think it'll burst any moment. Every breath you take feels as though you're inhaling smoke. Your eyes meet Bradley's and the suffocating feeling vanishes.
You feel like you're ten again. A fifteen-year-old Bradley wipes the fat tears that roll down your cheeks. One hand comes up to ruffle at your hair and he quietly cooes at you to stop crying. Soft reassurances of 'everything is gonna be okay' repeat after one another as more tears fall.
The calm and warm reassurance that Bradley constantly provided for you returns and it scares you. It scares you that after so much pain and heartbreak, Bradley can still make you feel so warm with just a simple look.
It's almost as though nothing has changed and time hasn't past. And if you're completely honest, that thought doesn't invoke any fear. Because right now, in this moment as you stare into your brother's eyes, you wish you were ten again.
Bradley slowly lifts a hand to wipe at the tear that rolls down your cheek. His other hand wrap around the back of your head and brings you closer. Soft whispers come from Bradley's lips but you hardly hear them over your sobs.
"Everything's going to be okay. Just let me make it up to you."
"…You can’t…” you whisper as you push yourself out of Bradley's arms. Furiously wiping at your cheeks, your arms wrap around your torso as you direct your gaze to the floor. "I can't even look at you, Bradley. Every time that I do, I'm just reminded of the worst event of my life. I don't think you can make it up to me, so just, please, leave me alone." You take a step back and swallow the lump at the back of your throat. "I'm happy with the life I've made. I'm happy with my friends and family. I appreciate you apologizing, but I don't accept it."
Before Bradley can say anything, you quickly turn and walk out of the gym. Weirdly enough, the weight returns and it feels like you can't breathe. Walking away from Bradley might be the wrong decision, you think. But, that doesn't stop you from continuing down the halls.
Tumblr media
Taglist: @potato-girl99981 @callsign-cacti @caitsymichelle13 @darhk-angel @madkill44 @cherrycola27 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @clockworkballerina @krismdavis @phantomxoxo @piceous21 @laneyspaulding19 @multifandomfangirll @moron-says-what @rhirhikingston @startrekfangirl2233 @mightiestheroes @gizmodear @meritxellao @adaydreamaway
177 notes · View notes
lambertdiary · 8 months
Note
Hi I am absolutely in love with your writing and you make me fall for Dalton every post you make 😍 I was just wondering if maybe you could make one where he’s dating the reader and she’s a girly girl like maybe does cheer, wears skirts and loves dresses and all things pastel. What if it’s like the anniversary of Dalton and them so he tries to find a gift for her with Chris and he buys her like a really boyish gift (lego or nerf?) and chris is like “she’s gonna break up with you” but she actually loves it 🥰 I’m sorri if this is so long ;w; feel free ignore this request~
A/N: hey! sorry I haven't posted a proper fic in a few days but I have been a little busy and dealing with a major case of writer's block. So about the request... This is not exactly like anon asked, I think I got a little distracted but hopefully you will like it! Thanks anon for the kind words and for your request <3 Sorry it took so long to write but anyway. Enjoy!
Word Count: 1.7k+
Warnings: language, mentions of being drunk, fluff
MASTERLIST     ✩    SEND ME A REQUEST
Tumblr media
Building Love
Dalton has been preparing for their special day for a while. It was his first anniversary with Y/N and he’s sure he’s never been more nervous, but considering he has never been in a relationship before he thinks he has everything under control: dinner reservations at her favourite restaurant, a suit, a gift and even a rented car to drive to the town.
He just needed one last thing, wrap Y/N’s gift before their date. Dalton knocked on the door a couple of times before opening it and letting himself into Chris’ dorm. “Please, come in” She said sarcastically, sitting up in her bed.
“I need help” Dalton spoke in a desperate tone, looking at Chris with begging eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“I have Y/N’s gift in my room but I don’t know how to wrap it. I tried but it looks like an 8 year old did it”
“Oh right, I forgot today was your big day” Chris pushed herself from her bed “Do you have enough wrapping or do we need more?” She asked, walking out of her dorm willing to help Dalton.
“I bought a few rolls, just in case” They went to Dalton’s room in a hurry, he almost ran downstairs as Chris tried to stay close to him. Once he opened the door Chris looked around, scanning the floor covered in pink ripped paper, trying to find the gift she was about to wrap.
“What did you buy for her?” She asked when she couldn’t find it. Dalton walked to his bed to grab the gift and proudly showed it to his friend “A lego set? Really?” It was a huge box with a picture of a bookshop on it. It had over two thousand pieces and it looked like it would take a long time to assemble.
“Yeah, I thought we could build it together” Dalton replied, looking pleased with himself.
Chris on the other hand was expecting this to be some kind of joke, but her smile started to fade as she noticed Dalton’s serious expression “I hope you know she’s gonna break up with you”
“What? Why do you think that?” His demeanour changed completely at Chris’ words.
“Dalton, do you know Y/N?”
“I do. I know her better than you do, and I know her well enough to know that she’s gonna like this and that she’s not gonna break up with me… right?” 
“And you couldn’t even get a girly one? Like the flowers or something like that?”
“What’s wrong with this one?” He looked at Chris waiting for a response, but she just gave him a look in total disbelief, waiting for him to understand what was wrong with it, but he didn’t.
Chris sighed as she took the box from Dalton’s hands “The gift wrap you bought is so… her and how do you think she’s gonna feel when she opens it to see… this”
“Chris, you’re not helping” Dalton said as he took it back. Chris wasn’t trying to make him feel bad, she just wanted to save his relationship.
“It’s just that… It is so easy to buy a gift for her. And you’re right, you know her better than anyone else which is why I expected something that screamed Y/N”
“This doesn’t just scream Y/N, it screams us. Okay? We met at the bookshop, and she’s gonna love this” Dalton was trying to convince himself at this point and honestly he just wanted her to drop the subject, this is not why he asked for her help anyway.
“I’m sorry, I’ll stop” And she truly was, but the last thing she wanted was to see her best friend with a broken heart, especially when she thought about how tragic it would be to be dumped on their anniversary. 
Chris finally gave it up and proceeded with the wrapping. She took her time, almost as if she was making sure it looked like it was a lego set, but it was impossible with the overly pink wrap and ribbons.
In the meantime, Dalton was getting ready. He meticulously selected his suit weeks ago and he was carefully smoothing out any wrinkles, he needed to make sure every little detail was perfect. With a touch of cologne and a well fixed hair he examined himself in the big mirror, rings adding a hint of sophistication to his already charming being. 
“I never thought I would see you wearing an actual suit” Chris said standing from the desk.
“Does it look good?” He asked her, looking at his hands wondering if the rings were too much.
“It does, she’s gonna die when she sees those” She said pointing at his hands. Chris grabbed the gift and gave it to him, wanting to avoid the whole discourse again. “Thanks. I should probably get going” She could see Dalton sweating, his usual nervous self but like ten times worse. Chris nodded and walked towards the door.
“Good luck” She said before leaving.
As Dalton left his dorm, he couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness, not only about their date but also about the gift he was currently holding. He put everything in the car before making his way to Y/N’s dorm. Their dinner reservations were at 7 and they had just enough time to make it there. He was glad with his decision of renting a car, making it a lot easier and comfortable to get there.
Once he was at her door, he took one last deep breath and slowly knocked, anxiously waiting. She opened the door right away and a smile appeared in her lips, blushing as they quietly inspected each other’s outfits.
“Hi” Dalton was the first to speak “You look so beautiful” Her smile grew bigger and she grabbed Dalton’s hand to pull him inside, immediately finding his lips.
“You too, baby” She said as she pulled away “I can’t believe you’re wearing rings”
“Happy anniversary” They both said at the same time, causing them to chuckle. “Would love to stay but we should get going” He said, completely stepping out of her dorm “Dinner is at 7”
“Okay, I’ll just grab my things” She went back inside and took a few seconds to collect what she needed, coming out with a purse that matched her outfit perfectly and a gift bag.
They walked outside and Dalton guided her to the car, opening the door for her as he tried to hide his grin when he noticed how impressed Y/N was. It took around 30 minutes to get there and the whole drive was full of loving glances and nervous touches, especially from Y/N who couldn’t get over the fact that her boyfriend had rings, so instead of having both hands on the wheel Dalton placed one of them on her thigh as she fidgeted with the jewellery on his fingers.
They were planning on exchanging gifts after dinner, and the whole time he tried to stay positive about his choice. It did slip his mind from time to time when his brain was completely focused on the romantic dinner, the amazing set up and his beautiful girlfriend sitting across from him, but it came back with a nervous feeling any time he spotted the pink box. He had to admit, Chris did a fantastic job at wrapping it.
“Do you wanna open your gift?” Y/N excitedly asked him as the waiter took their dessert orders. She gave him the bag and he took it nervously. ‘What if her gift is a million times better than mine?’ He thought to himself.
Happiness swelled within him when he finally opened it and saw what was inside, pulling out an inkless drawing board that he has been wanting to get for a while and a scratch book with tons of memories of their relationship, from movie tickets, restaurant receips and dried flowers to pictures of them doing pretty much anything “You’re amazing” Is the only thing he could say. His mind was racing as he thought so many things at the same time, including how much he loved his present and how anxious he was that she was about to open hers.
“Uh- This is for you” He said, handing her the big present. Y/N looked really excited, admiring the pink wrap her boyfriend chose as she started to open it.
With trembling hands and a heart full of anticipation, Y/N carefully untied the ribbon and unwrapped the gift. As the wrapping paper fell away, her eyes widened in pure joy, revealing a genuine smile that decorated her face. She loved how thoughtful Dalton’s gift was, happily thinking about the story behind it.
Dalton however felt like he couldn’t read her expression as she looked at it for what it felt like an eternity. Dalton could hear his own heartbeat, and he swore he could even hear Y/N’s nervous breaths “I love it!” She exclaimed as she literally stood up to embrace him in a loving hug, pressing her soft lips against his.
“You do?” Dalton asked her, his eyes lighting up and mentally cursing Chris for letting her get into his head.
“Of course” She said with a big smile “I can’t believe you still think about these things”
“I think about anything and everything related to you at all times” This made her giggle and she blushed as she thought of her next words.
“I love you” She said, brushing his hair out of his face and behind his ear.
Dalton’s heart stopped at that moment. They had said those three words to each other before but they were a little drunk when it happened, so he thought that she didn’t mean it.
“I love you too” He replied with tears almost falling down his face. They kissed again, but this time with more affection. It didn’t last long since the waiter came back with their desserts, but their hands were holding for the rest of the night. 
Dalton decided to take a moment to let his friend know how wrong she was, and after thinking of the perfect way to say ‘I told you so’ he landed on a simple text message.
Dalton: She just told me she loves me so joke’s on you
98 notes · View notes
thewillofdeez · 2 months
Text
A Very AkaTaka Birthday
Tumblr media Tumblr media
18+! Minors DNI!!!
Summary: It's Mihawk's birthday. His girlfriend gets him a very special surprise......a visit from his boyfriend, Shanks.
Characters: Mihawk, Shanks, Fem Reader
Warnings: Smut, smut, and more smut. Some plot at the beginning, established relationships. Threesome, polyamory, shibari, cum play, oral sex, 69, anal sex, straight sex......
Note: Started this almost a year ago, dropped it for a while, then scrambled to finish it in time to post today, on Shanks and Mihawk's birthday. This is the dirtiest, most foul, nasty, pornographic thing I've ever written in my life. Hope you enjoy! ^_^
It was Mihawk’s birthday, which meant it was Shanks’s birthday too. Mihawk had never been a big fan of his birthday and never actively celebrated it when given the choice, but every March 9th he found himself wondering if that choice would be taken away from him by his long-term partner…or as Shanks liked to say, his “birthday buddy.” Mihawk hated the term, and hated how most people didn’t respect his desire to not celebrate, but he did love Shanks very much and found it hard to say no to the man, who always, he had to admit, made it worth his while. Regardless, Shanks wasn’t here, and he was spending the day hiding in his room on Karai Barai Island. Just to be safe.
For a couple that had been together for over a decade, the two couldn’t have been more different. Mihawk was thoughtful, reticent, and careful. Shanks was fun-loving, boisterous, and pretty much an open-book. And yet, somehow, they worked well together. Sometimes Mihawk found himself wondering if the reason that they worked was because of their unique arrangement. Mihawk enjoyed living his life in a mostly solitary manner, while Shanks was the captain of one of the most powerful pirate crews in the world. They met up a few times a year, and perhaps it was this absence that made their hearts grow fonder. Sure, Mihawk missed his partner when he was away, but it just made the time they got together all the more special.
On top of that, their relationship was ethically non-monogamous. Shanks had a mix of casual encounters and long-term partners (none of whom had outlasted Mihawk yet for a variety of reasons), while Mihawk preferred to keep his sex life casual…well, he had anyway. That was before he met Y/N.
Y/N was the fourth member of the Cross Guild, and an old friend of Buggy’s. Buggy had asked her to join to manage some areas of the business that neither Mihawk, Crocodile, nor himself were adept at, and she jumped at the opportunity. Mihawk started falling for her when they first met….it was rather terrifying for him. His whole adult life he’d never carried such feelings for anyone besides Shanks. And yet, here she was….beautiful, skilled and – beyond his wildest dreams – falling for him too, and completely okay with his existing relationship.
Mihawk thought back to when he’d told Shanks about the new person in his life.
He’d stood before the transponder snail nervously for several minutes. Why the hell was he so nervous? He’d been on the receiving end of this call a dozen times, and it was always fine….but he’d never been the one making it. He’d never had a problem with Shanks sharing his heart in addition to his bed, but he wondered how his lover would handle being on the other side for the first time.
Taking a deep breath, he’d picked up the receiver, listening to the familiar ‘badabadabada.’
“Well hey there, Hawk-eyes,” Shanks drawled over the phone, his smirk visible through the snail. “How’s the business going?”
Mihawk couldn’t help but smile a little. He always forgot how much he enjoyed hearing Shanks’s voice.
“It’s fine, I suppose. It’s certainly lucrative. Shanks, I…I’d like to talk to you about something.”
Shanks’s brow furrowed in concern. “Of course, ‘Hawk….everything okay?”
“Yes, everything is fine….” Mihawk replied nervously. “Shanks…I met someone here. A woman. I….think I love her.”
The line was silent for a moment, then Shanks’s boisterous laughter came over the line. “Mihawk! That’s awesome! Holy shit, man, I thought you were gonna break up with me for a second there.”
Mihawk let out a nervous chuckle, “No, we’ve already established that I’m stuck with you for life. I’m just nervous…I’ve never felt like this about anyone except you. It’s strange. And scary. And…I wanted to make sure you were okay with it.”
Shanks grinned broadly. “I’d be a hell of a hypocrite if I wasn’t okay with you having a relationship while I’m over here having three including you. ‘Hawk, you deserve love too, since I can’t be around to give it to you all the time. It’s more than okay. Tell me about her.”
Mihawk smiled softly and told him about Y/N…how they met, how they got together, what he loved about her, everything. He also assured Shanks that she was aware of the situation, and that everything was consensual and she was fine with it.
Shanks chuckled. “You’ve got it bad, man. She sounds perfect. Can I meet her? Or at least talk to her? If you’re both okay with it, that is.”“She’d love that, actually, she’s asked me the same thing. I’ll arrange with her some time where you two can talk in private.”
“Perfect. I can’t wait. I love you, Mihawk.”
“I love you too.”
That was just a few weeks ago. True to his word, Mihawk had arranged for Y/N and Shanks to speak, and he was surprised when the conversation lasted well into the night. It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that she’d snuck into his bed.
Mihawk had groggily rolled over to capture her in his arms when he felt the bed shift beside him.
“I take it the call went well?” he’d said, his voice heavy with sleep.
Y/N let out a soft chuckle and curled up next to him. “It did. He’s fun. And he obviously loves you a lot. I can’t wait to meet him.”
Mihawk planted a soft kiss on her head, holding her close. “You have no idea how happy that makes me.” And with that, they both drifted off into sleep.
A knock on the door broke Mihawk from his thoughts. He looked up to see Y/N’s head peek in.
“Are you hiding?” she said, her voice teasing. She walked over to the large armchair where Mihawk sat and crawled onto his lap, bringing him in for a kiss. He paid little mind to the bag she was carrying.
“Until it’s tomorrow, yes,” he replied, wrapping his arms around her. “How did things go without me today?”
Y/N shrugged. “Business as usual, nothing too exciting. Buggy’s crew made you a cake.”
Mihawk rolled his eyes. “They would.”
She giggled and began kissing his neck. “You’re more likable than you think, you know. They love you.”
“That’s because we’re cult leaders, they don’t have a choice,” he deadpanned. She laughed in response.
“There you go, saying the quiet part out loud again.” She smiled and kissed his lips, placing a hand on his chest. “So….I know your birthday isn’t your thing…”
“Ugh, not you too, Y/N…” he said with a scoff.
“No, no, listen!” she said quickly. “I have a surprise for you. I promise you it’s something you’ll like, and you don’t have to leave this room for it. You don’t even have to think of it as something for your birthday, you can just think of it as…..something special that happens to occur on March 9th. Will you trust me?”
Mihawk narrowed his eyes at her. “It’d better be a sexy surprise.”
“Oh it is,” she smirked, her voice getting lower and she kissed along his neck and jaw. “Very sexy. But when I say I need you to trust me…I need you to trust me . Okay? If you want to stop at any point, it’s fine, I promise…but let me at least get started?”
Mihawk wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. It was still the early weeks of their relationship, and while they had certainly explored things each other liked and knew about what they didn’t like, he was a little cautious to be working off of no information. But he did trust her, entirely.
Mihawk nodded. “I trust you, Y/N, completely. Do I get to know anything about what we’ll be doing?”
“Nope,” she replied with a mischievous grin. “You’re going in blind. Now, I need you to strip down to your boxers.” She began unbuttoning his shirt, kissing along his neck and collarbone. When it was fully unbuttoned, she removed herself from his lap.
Mihawk chuckled. “As you wish,” he replied, obeying her request. He removed the shirt, then his pants and socks, leaving him in only his tight black boxer briefs. Y/N grinned, seeing how he was already becoming excited.
“Perfect,” she replied. “Now come over here.” She picked up the bag with one hand and with the other guided him to the large bed. “I want you to kneel on the bed for me.” Mihawk obeyed without a word, kneeling by the headboard and resting back on his calves, curious as to where this was going. He watched as she pulled out a long silk scarf from the bag.
“And where exactly will that be going?” he asked curiously.
Y/N crawled onto the bed and knelt before him, kissing him deeply. “Over those pretty eyes of yours, of course. Is that okay?” He nodded slowly, and she folded the scarf and wrapped it around his head, tying it tightly but not too much so. “Is that comfortable enough? Can you see anything?”
“It’s fine,” he responded, “And no, I can’t.”
“Good,” she said, running her fingers down his chest. “And no Observation Haki either. That will spoil the fun. Promise me?”
“I promise…” he said in a shuddering breath as he felt her fingers along his skin, the sensation already becoming heightened.
He heard her chuckle, then felt the bed shift, and heard her rummage through the bag. He desperately wanted to know what else she had in there. He got his answer when he felt thick, silky material being dragged across his skin: rope.
“I know you usually prefer to be the one doing the tying….is it alright if I tie you up?”
He smiled, appreciating that she was asking him at every step along the way. It made him feel more comfortable with being in a vulnerable position. “You know mere ropes can’t restrain me….but you can certainly try.”
“That’s all I needed to hear…” she said. He felt her move around him as she began tying him up, using some of the more simplistic shibari knots he had taught her. When she was done, his legs were completely free and still in a kneeling position, but his arms were bound completely behind his back and to his torso. He struggled a little, testing the strength of the ropes. Yes, he could certainly break them into strings if he really wanted, but he wouldn’t….not unless she asked him to anyway.
He felt the mattress shift as she removed herself from the bed. He could feel her eyes on him. “You look so good like this,” she said as she ran her fingers through his hair. ��Now, I’ll be right back. I need to prepare your surprise….and remember: no Observation Haki. You promised.”
Mihawk smirked. “I did indeed. Do what you need to….I’m not going anywhere.”
He heard her giggle and walk away. Mihawk knew that she knew that Observation Haki wasn’t so easy to just turn on and off like a lightswitch. It was basically second nature. So in order to obey her request, Mihawk relaxed his body and focused on breathing, trying to bring himself into a slightly meditative state - enough that he wouldn’t instinctively focus on his Haki, but not enough that he wouldn’t be ready when she returned.
Mihawk’s reverie was broken when he felt the bed shift again and soft lips meet his. He grinned. “Welcome back,” he said, his tone sultry.
He was surprised when he felt another set of lips on his immediately after - rougher, and surrounded by coarse hair. He felt his breath catch in his throat. “Shanks?”
Mihawk felt the blindfold being untied from behind his head. He shook it off, desperate to see if he was right. Opening his eyes, Shanks was before him, the younger man already stripped down to his burgundy boxer briefs and a crooked smirk on his face.
“Hey there, Hawk-eyes,” he said with a grin. Y/N came up behind the red head and draped her arms around his shoulders, kissing his neck softly.
Mihawk couldn’t suppress a smile. “Well if this isn’t the most welcome sight I’ve ever seen. I can’t say I haven’t dreamed of this happening….it’s just a shame I can’t touch you,” he said, struggling against his restraints halfheartedly.
Shanks chuckled. “We’re in charge of your pleasure tonight. All you have to do,” he began, pushing Mihawk’s body back against the pillows and headboard,”....is relax.” Shanks straddled Mihawk and began to rub his clothed cock against the dark-haired man’s. They both groaned in pleasure at the feeling as Shanks moved his hips in slow waves. Shanks leaned into Mihawk’s ear and whispered, “Let the people you love take care of you…”
Mihawk and Shanks looked into each other’s eyes, then shared a deep, passionate kiss. Y/N sat at the edge of the bed, enjoying watching them. When the kiss broke, Shanks turned to her. “I didn’t come all this way just so you can watch,” he said with a grin. “Come here.”
Y/N obeyed and joined the two men, the three of them kissing passionately, licking, biting, and exploring each other’s bodies. Well…exploring each other’s and Mihawk’s body, as Mihawk was still bound, much to his frustration. But they made it worth his while, their hands roaming over his body, their lips on his skin all over…it was almost overwhelming. Eventually the three broke apart, panting and catching their breath. Shanks looked at Y/N mischievously and moved to the other end of the bed.
“Come here, pretty lady,” he said, beckoning her to him with a curled finger. She crawled across the bed to him and they embraced each other, kneeling on the soft mattress and kissing passionately. Mihawk couldn’t deny he loved the site, both on a sexual level and as something deeper…he couldn’t wait to see where this night would take them, but he had a good feeling.
Mihawk watched as his lovers kissed and touched all over, shivers shooting through his body as Shanks latched onto her neck and caused her to moan, after which he lowered his body onto hers, pushing her down on the bed.
Shanks looked up at him with a smirk. “It may be your birthday, Taka no Me,” he said, “But it’s mine too. And if it’s okay with you….I’d like to fuck your girlfriend.”
Mihawk huffed out a laugh, his heart pounding in his chest. “Do it. I want to see you fuck her. I want you to make her scream the way I do.”
Shanks smiled widely, then turned his attention to the woman under him. Mihawk watched as they kissed passionately, their hands roaming. With a smirk, Y/N helped Shanks remove his underwear, leaving him completely naked. She reached down to stroke him a few times, and Mihawk could feel his mouth beginning to water. It had been far too long since he’d felt Shanks’s cock in his mouth….but that would have to wait.
He watched as Y/N stripped herself of her remaining clothes until they were both naked together. Shanks knelt between her knees and ran his fingers along her hips and thighs, and Mihawk could see the goosebumps forming on her skin. Her body arched as Shanks inserted a finger into her dripping core, then another, slowly moving them in and out.
Shanks chuckled. “She’s so wet, ‘Hawk. Does she taste as good as she looks?”
Mihawk grinned devilishly. “Why don’t you find out?”
With permission given, Shanks sunk down and buried his face in her core, causing her to arch her body against him, craving his touch. His tongue was relentless, swirling around her clitoris and running up and down along her folds, dipping ever so slightly into her dripping hole. He worked her with his tongue and fingers, and her moans filled the room. Mihawk knew, at this point in their relationship, exactly what to touch and lick in order to send Y/N over the edge, but Shanks didn’t. From this vantage point he could see Shanks trying all of his tricks, trying to find what made her react in the ways he wanted.
“Fuck, Shanks!” she cried as his tongue flicked her clitoris just right, letting him know that that was the spot, right there. His fingers worked harder, the pressure just right. “Please keep going, please don’t stop…..”
But Shanks was, if nothing else, a tease, and nothing turned him on more than having his partner begging and pleading for him. He pulled away, licking his lips and smirking as she looked up at him with wide eyes.
Shanks looked over to Mihawk, his brown eyes sparkling. “Fucking delicious.”
“Mind coming over here and giving me a taste?” Mihawk replied. Shanks grinned and went to where Mihawk was still kneeling, his body tied, his erection pushing the elastic of his boxer briefs to the limit. He leaned in and kissed Mihawk, his tongue going deep into the other man’s mouth, allowing him to taste what Y/N gave him.
Y/N watched as the two men shared her release. She flipped herself onto her front, watching and waiting for Shanks to join her again, eager for the red-haired pirate to finish what he started. When they separated, she wiggled her ass playfully, letting him know she was ready. Shanks returned to her and knelt behind her, lining his cock up with her pink, puffy lips. He sunk into her quickly, all in one thrust, and began to move.
It was almost animalistic, Mihawk thought, as he watched Shanks fuck Y/N. Her back arched like a cat in heat as Shanks pounded into her rapidly, his hand gripping her hip tightly. Shanks and Mihawk locked eyes as the younger man moved, a look that said ‘ Patience…this will be you soon enough .’ Mihawk’s eyes watched hungrily as his boyfriend fucked his girlfriend, so hard and fast the bed shook until they both came. Y/N collapsed, clearly in need of a break. Shanks pulled out and watched as his release dripped out of her core and down her thighs. He placed two fingers at her core, gathering their mixed releases on them and then sticking them in his mouth, sucking them dry as Mihawk watched hungrily. He then grabbed a small towel and helped her clean up, kissing her softly.
“You take a break, get some water,” he said. “I think our man has waited long enough. Come join us when you’re ready.” Y/N could only nod and give a quiet uh huh , retreating to the other side of the room to catch her breath.
With Y/N in recovery, Shanks turned his attention to his bound partner, a playful grin on his face as he leaned in and kissed Mihawk again, his hand wandering down along the soft black ropes and Mihawk’s pale skin until his hand grasped his cock through his underwear. Mihawk let out a groan, his head rolling back.
“You’ve been so patient while I have my fun,” Shanks drawled, running his hand along Mihawk’s erection. “You deserve to be rewarded.” Shanks began tugging down the fabric, and Mihawk’s cock popped out, fully at attention and dripping with precum. Shanks mindlessly licked his lips before lowering his head and tasting the liquid that leaked from Mihawk’s cock. “Goddamn, Hawk-eyes, I missed you….” Mihawk tried to respond but the words were ripped from his throat and replaced with a moan as Shanks’s lips wrapped around the head of his cock and began sucking, his tongue swirling around the tip and flicking at the frenulum.
“Fuck, Shanks…” Mihawk could only gasp out. The sensation was like electricity in his veins, he could feel every nerve in his body igniting at once as Shanks’s mouth worked him. Shanks’s head sunk down, taking all of Mihawk’s length in his mouth with barely a gag, a skill Shanks was incredibly proud of. His hand reached below to play with Mihawk’s balls as his head moved up and down, bringing his lips all the way up to just kiss his tip before taking him entirely again.
“Shanks…” Mihawk rasped. “Shanks, let me suck you. Want your cock in my mouth. Missed it so much.”
Shanks released Mihawk’s cock with a soft popping sound. “Now, now, Mihawk, it’s my turn to pleasure you.”
Mihawk shook his head, the need to feel Shanks’s cock against his tongue making him feel almost desperate. “Please. Shanks…please.”
Shanks chucked. “Aww ‘Hawk, baby, you know I have trouble saying no to you.” Shanks positioned Mihawk so he was laying down flat on the bed.
“Can…can you untie me? Please?” Shanks looked over to Y/N who was sipping on some water and watching the scene before her with interest. She only shrugged.
“He’s the birthday boy too. We should give him what he wants.”
Shanks nodded. “All right then. Y/N, give me a hand? I only have one,” he quipped with a wink.
She came over and helped Shanks undo the shibari knots, taking her time and enjoying how red and full their cocks were in anticipation. Eventually she removed the ropes entirely, discarding them on the ground. His hands now freed, Mihawk pounced on Shanks, kissing him deeply, his fingers running through his partner’s red hair. Shanks was just as eager, and they fell back on the bed, their bodies entwined. Y/N returned to her chair to continue enjoying the show, allowing her partner and her new friend to enjoy each other some more.
Mihawk was almost frantic in his movements as he pushed Shanks back on the bed and latched onto his cock. Shanks threw his head back as Mihawk swallowed him in one swift movement, his nose buried in the coarse auburn hair surrounding it.
“‘Hawk, fuck …..,” he rasped. “Come here, I wanna take care of you too.” Mihawk quickly removed his mouth from Shanks and rotated his body so Shanks could pleasure him as well before sucking him down again. The two men found a comfortable position on their sides, their mouths latched onto each other’s cocks as they sucked and licked at each other. Mihawk groaned at the feeling; Shanks always did fit perfectly inside of him. He relished the remaining traces of Y/N’s release and swirled his tongue around Shanks, trying to get every remaining drop.
Y/N watched the two men tangled together, Mihawk’s arms wrapped around Shanks’s legs, pulling him so close they looked like they could be absorbed into each other, and Shanks doing the same. This dance was so intimate, so loving, and she smiled at how much they clearly loved each other.
Mihawk came first, his body tensing as he shot his load down Shank’s throat. Shanks came just a few seconds later, Mihawk swallowing every drop with ease. The two men separated, rolling onto their backs, and panting at the exertion.
Y/N sauntered back over to the bed. She sat down by Mihawk, leaning down and giving him a soft, gentle kiss, then giving Shanks the same.
Mihawk, for his part, was feeling a little overwhelmed, but in a good way. The desire, the passion, the sheer fucking love he felt for these two people beside him. He wanted them both desperately, wanted to hold tightly to them and never let them go.
“Shanks, Y/N…” he rasped. “I need you. Both of you.”
Y/N and Shanks exchanged a look, understanding what their lover was asking for. She kissed Mihawk one more time, and he kissed her back, his tongue snaking its way into her mouth.
“How do you want to do this?” she asked.
Shanks grinned. “You lay down, Y/N. Near the edge of the bed but not at it.” Y/N obeyed, taking her position, her legs spread wide before them. He then turned to Mihawk, his hand running slowly down the swordsman’s chest, both of their hearts beating with anticipation. They had never done this particular act before with a third person, but it was certainly something Mihawk had always dreamed of doing - and tonight that dream appeared to be coming true.
Shanks and Mihawk shared one more, deep kiss before breaking apart. Mihawk opened a drawer on the side table, pulling out a tube of lubricant and unscrewing the top, handing it to Shanks. Mihawk then knelt on the bed and positioned himself between Y/N’s legs, his cock once again hard and dark red, and eager to be buried deep in her warmth. He looked down at the woman before him, her skin freckled with love marks on her neck and shoulders, and it occurred to him that he must look much the same way. Capturing her lips in a kiss, he entered her slowly, groaning at the sensation of her tight pussy engulfing him entirely. When he was fully seated inside of her, he waited, fighting back the urge to move and start fucking her; as difficult as it was, he knew his patience would be rewarded. Y/N, for her part, was squirming below him, desperate for friction. Mihawk gave her a sultry look and a short, reprimanding bite on his shoulder.
“Patience, darling,” he said softly, “It’ll be worth the wait….for both of us.”
Just then, Mihawk felt Shank’s lips on his shoulder, and craned his neck to the side to allow the other man access. “You two ready?” Shanks asked.
Y/N nodded. “Ready.”
Mihawk sat up and captured Shanks’s lips with his own before returning to his position. “There’s nothing I want more.”
He broke the kiss and adjusted his position so Shanks could enter him from behind. Mihawk was positioned on his knees near the edge of the bed, his cock buried inside Y/N. He splayed his legs out wider to allow Shanks the best access, and Y/N wrapped her legs around Mihawk’s torso. His breath shuddered when he felt Shanks behind him, the tip of his lover’s cock prodding gently at his entrance. Mihawk took a deep breath and Shanks entered him, the pain and pleasure so familiar and so overwhelming he felt like his body was on fire. He moved his hands to take both of Y/N’s in his, pinning them above her head and squeezing them tightly as his back arched.
What felt like ages was only a few seconds - and the three of them were joined together, Mihawk buried deep inside Y/N, and Shanks buried in Mihawk. For a moment, Mihawk and his two lovers remained still, enjoying the feeling of being connected in this way. Mihawk looked down at Y/N, and she smiled up at him, brushing a damp lock of black hair from his face. Behind him, Shanks was running his fingers gently down Mihawk’s back. And then, Mihawk began moving.
He pulled his hips back slowly first, feeling Shanks filling him completely, then, thrusted forward roughly, causing Y/N to let out a loud moan. With every pull back Shanks filled him more, and with every thrust he filled Y/N, and it wasn’t long before the three found a perfect rhythm, a chorus of moans and whimpers filling the room. Mihawk’s hips rolled with abandon as he enjoyed both of his lovers in the most intimate possible way.
Shanks’s hand gripped Mihawk’s hip, as he met each of Mihawk’s thrusts with one of his own, his lover’s ass gripping his cock tightly. On Mihawk’s other side, below him, Y/N could feel everything, not only the cock of the man inside of her, but every thrust Shanks offered from behind him as well, making it all the more forceful.
Mihawk’s mind was a haze of pleasure. He’d never felt this, both filling and being filled, and what’s more, by the two people he loves more than anything in the world. The people he’d kill for and die for, the people with whom he sometimes allowed himself to fantasize about a life after piracy together. The feeling of love, the feeling of Y/N’s core sucking his cock in, the feeling of Shanks ramming in and out of him, it was so much, it was too much it—
Mihawk roared as he came, a sound that surely must have been heard by everyone on the island. Y/N followed almost immediately after, her fingernails leaving deep red marks down his back, and then Shanks, whose thrusts shuddered erratically and then stilled entirely.
They were a mess of sweat and cum and blissful, ridiculous love. Shanks pulled out first, cleaning himself and Mihawk off gently with a towel. Mihawk felt like his heart would never stop beating this fast, his ears wouldn’t stop ringing, and his mind would be eternally this blank - surely, a sacrifice that would have been worth it. It was only when he heard Y/N giggle below him that he started to come back down to earth.
“Hey. You can’t stay like this all night, you know,” she said with a playful grin.
“Can’t I though?” The words were barely more than a whisper. She kissed him softly and lifted herself up onto her elbows. With a begrudging sigh, Mihawk pulled out of her, almost losing his balance as he tried to stand. Shanks was quick to catch him, his arm wrapping around the swordsman’s torso.”
“Come on, ‘Hawk. Let’s get you some water and get cleaned up.”
Y/N poured Mihawk a glass of water, then headed towards the bathroom. “I feel like we could all use a bath right about now.”
Shanks collapsed on the bed with a grunt, the only sound of affirmation he could make. Mihawk then handed him the remaining water in the glass, and he drank it down. Shanks then turned to his partner with a crooked smile.
“Happy birthday, Hawkeyes. I love you.”
Mihawk smiled, the kind of gentle, genuine smile so few ever got to see. “I love you too, Shanks. Thank you. For everything.”
The two men kissed as the ambient sound of running water from the bathroom created a relaxing sound like white noise, and they once again lost themselves in each other.
Shanks broke the kiss. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Mihawk replied, his voice low. “Anything.”
“How would you feel if you and me and Y/N were…a thing? A closed thing? Just…the three of us?”
Mihawk’s eyes widened in surprise, then he laughed. “Is this your idea of settling down?”
Shanks grinned and rolled onto his back. “I dunno, maybe? I…broke things off with my other two relationships. They were fine, but….I guess I’m at an age where I’m kinda craving some sort of stability. And with the way things are going…..I have a feeling that it won’t be long before my duty to protect the One Piece is fulfilled. And then…..”
“And then we can do whatever we want. Together.” Mihawk smiled, taking Shanks’s hand and kissing it gently. “I would like that, Shanks. I really would. I don’t know what that life will look like, but if it means I can be with you and with Y/N for the rest of my days….I’d like that. And I think she might too….but I’ll let you broach that topic with her on your own. We’ll figure it out, all of us together.”
Shanks nodded, “I hope so. I like her, Mihawk. Just talking to her on the transponder….I feel like we really clicked. And in person? Wow...” He sighed. “You got yourself a good one there. I think we all could be really happy together, for a really long time, if that’s something she wants too.”
“Guys, come on!” Y/N’s voice rang from the bathroom. “This tub is far too big for just one person!”
Shanks chuckled. “Sounds like our girl needs us.”
Mihawk smiled. Our girl. “Then let us not keep her waiting.”
45 notes · View notes
awooghan · 1 year
Text
24 to 25 ✧.* y.ji (part one)
Tumblr media
➳ PAIRING: jeongin x fem!reader
➳ GENRE: fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, christmas
➳ WARNINGS: mild language, mentions of food, long as hell, i put the ‘slow’ in slowburn (in my defense this trope does not work without it), i’ve checked like 1922847473 times for inconsistencies but if there are any pls be nice it’s my first long fic ;w;
➳ WORD COUNT: 47.7k (part one: 25.9k; part two: 21.8k) i'm so sorry
➳ SUMMARY: “stay for christmas?” was a phrase jeongin first uttered to you when you were both ten years old, but 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
[part one] | part two
network tags: @straykidsland
Tumblr media
9 years old. (prologue)
“Come on, Y/N, you can’t cling onto my shirt forever,” your mother urges you with a small chuckle.
You stiffen up in your spot at the edge of the picnic bench, and your eyes bounce between the several children on and around the playground equipment. Mixtures of squeals and cheerful laughter ring above the Christmas song playing from the outdoor speaker your new neighbors, the Choi family, set up. You forgot if it was the one with the son older than you or the son your age, though—you didn’t exactly bother to learn their names when your mother introduced you.
“Go on, Y/N.” Her voice fills your ears again as she gently pushes you off the bench. Speak of the devil. 
Shoving your hands in your pockets, you kick the dust with your feet and you keep your gaze cast down on the ground. You didn’t want to socialize—why would you want to make new friends when you had perfectly good ones back in your old neighborhood? Why couldn’t you just go back there? Or just snatch your mother’s dingy old flip phone for a couple minutes to send them a message?
Besides, most of the children here don’t seem like ones you’d be particularly… compatible with. You shouldn’t be one to judge, but the majority of the ones doing laps on the playground equipment couldn’t have been older than five or six. At your big age of nine years old, there’s not much you would have in common with a literal kindergartener. Plus, it seems like they had all formed a friend group of their own, and you’re more than content just watching them chase each other around, gleeful, high-pitched squeals bubbling from their sticky mouths.
Turning your head slightly, you find a group of teenagers sitting around another bench several feet away from all the adults, two of which had their bottoms perched on top of the table as they faced their friends. You would approach them, but just like how you wouldn’t exactly favor befriending the five-year-olds with crayons up their noses, the teenagers likely thought the same of you. Closing your eyes in despair, you groan to yourself and resort to dragging your feet across the dirt.
Why did you even have to move?
As you let out a sigh, you perk up at the fact you could see it in the cold air. It sparks an insurmountable amount of joy for some reason. Perhaps it’s because of the timing of the puff of air with the line, ’Jack Frost nipping at your nose’ that rings from the speakers at the other end of the small neighborhood park, but it causes a giggle to slip past your lips. It’s almost like a new light under the already-dimming sky, the soft pinks and oranges slowly dissipating as the sun begins to dip behind the mountains and give way to the overcast above. 
However, you quickly get distracted by the sight of a boy your age—or at least, you assumed—and you hesitantly step closer.
And there he was.
He was short, upside down on the monkey bars, and wearing the most obnoxious shade of purple you had ever laid eyes on. You aren’t sure what hurts more: the sun in your eyes or staring at his sweater. 
Looking away from the light gray clouds that hung above the park, you let your gaze fall to the boy. He watches you quietly as he continues to hang upside down, and you notice the small smile that paints his slowly reddening face.
Here goes nothing, you guess.
“Um… hi.”
He stays silent, staring at you with his beady eyes. 
Gulping, you continue. “I’m Y/N.” 
He mumbles something back, but you can barely make out what he says and you tilt your head slightly in confusion.
“Huh?”
“My name is Jeongin,” he repeats, only the slightest bit louder. 
A smile of your own quickly forms on your face. You raise a hand up for him to shake, and he just stares at it for a second before moving one of his outstretched arms to meet you, his hand grasping yours at an awkward angle. You both can’t help but giggle as you give your best attempt at a handshake.
“Nice to meet you, Jeongin,” you say, slowly pulling your hand away and letting his drop above, or rather, below his upside-down head. “I’m Y/N.”
“You said that already,” he says, and his bluntness makes you chuckle.
Slowly, Jeongin maneuvers himself so he’s sitting on top of the monkey bars instead of hanging upside down. Once he gets upright and steadies himself from the blood rushing down from his head, he stares back down at you. 
You stuff your hands into your pockets and heave out a sigh. “My mom says I need a friend,” you explain your current plight to Jeongin, and you find his soft gaze once again. It’s strange, really—you’ve only exchanged a few words with this boy, but you already feel comfortable enough to complain about your mother’s nagging to him.
You suppose that helps your next words spill out more easily.
“Want to be friends?” 
You watch Jeongin expectantly as he looks down, picking at a piece of lint on his hideous purple sweater. He ponders your question for a minute, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you when he finally nods in response. If your mom wanted you to have a friend so badly, there you go. You got one.
You stand there awkwardly, your eyes drifting back up to the sky for a moment. It occurs to you that you’ve never asked someone to be friends with you; it’s always just kind of happened.
And now you’re stuck, unsure what to do next.
You let out another huff of air, another smile tickling your lips as you watch the faint, white puff form in front of your eyes. Then you look back up at the boy in the obnoxious purple sweater, who seems just as amused by the cold air as you as he lets out his own breath, exhaling like a small dragon.
A chuckle escapes your parted lips as you watch him, kicking his legs lightly as he stares up at the sky. After another minute, you speak again.
“Can I sit up there with you too?”
Nodding his head, he mumbles a small “yeah” and the corners of your mouth twitch up as you hurriedly climb your way up onto the monkey bars. You dangle your legs through the same section as Jeongin’s, and you shift your position slightly as you steady yourself.
A gust of cold air causes you to shiver and as a response, you pull your puffy coat closer to you. This seems to make Jeongin chuckle fondly, and you feel his eyes linger on you for a second before he looks out at the horizon. Neither of you are tall enough to see much above the houses in front of you, but you figure you can use your imaginations to picture what lies beyond that. It’ll have to do.
You both remain silent for a while like this, allowing the chatter and Christmas music below to fill the air around you. It’s comfortable, it feels like a weighted blanket wrapped around your shoulders—which is funny to say because you’re sharing this moment with a kid you’ve barely known for ten minutes. You don’t mind, though. By the looks of it, and the friendly glances you exchange with each other, Jeongin doesn’t seem to, either.
Suddenly, a cold, wet spot falls onto your nose, causing you to gasp and look up.
“Is that…”
Jeongin tilts his head up as well, and he chuckles when another wet drop lands on his face. Meanwhile, you’re in awe. You let your mouth fall open, and your eyes swirl with pure wonderment as you watch the white crystals above you flutter down. It sends chills down your spine, but wraps you up in a cocoon of warmth at the same time. 
“Snow…” is all you manage to mumble. 
Jeongin turns to you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Have you never seen snow before?”
You glance at him once, shake your head, and look back up at the sky. 
The boy’s jaw drops. It almost mirrors your dazed expression, except his features are twisted in surprise. But it’s true—snow was something you had only witnessed in movies. As far as you were concerned, the fluffy, white particles only ever graced the stop-motion characters on the old-timey Christmas cartoons you rewatched every year, or the main couple in whatever cheesy Hallmark movie your parents decided to indulge in.
That is, until now.
You didn’t know at that moment what type of future you had in store, but you know one thing: the snow is beautiful. And as you follow Jeongin down the monkey bars and to your first snowball fight, you have an inkling that you’ll be sticking with him for a while.
Maybe this move won’t be so bad after all.
10 years old.
You let out a huff of air, letting your chin bore into the palm of your hand. Unfortunately, though, the air inside a school classroom doesn’t allow you to watch it come to life. Sure, you had a heater and the bulky coat your mother gave you to thank for warmth, but at what cost?
No matter how hard you try to focus on the math test that was laid out in front of you, you just can’t. Not when the outside seemed to beckon you like a siren, begging you to come out and indulge in the ever-approaching Christmas atmosphere. 
It’s all tempting. So, so tempting. Everything else seemed to be falling into place—the air has started to get colder, Christmas music has been playing 24/7 in the stores since November, you’ve worn every ugly Christmas sweater you could get your hands on at least once in the last two weeks, and you’ve begged your mom for a cup of hot chocolate every chance you could get. 
Now you just need it to snow, and you need it badly. 
After you scribble a random answer for the question you’ve been stuck on for five minutes, you throw your pen onto the table and lean back in your hard, plastic chair in defeat. This was too much mental torture, espically when you could hear Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer faintly playing in another room. 
You can’t take it anymore. 
Hopelessly, you stare at Jeongin, who somehow sleeps peacefully next to you. You’re sure he’s been asleep since he sat down in his chair. His head lays on his arm, which is covered by his purple sleeve. You snicker at the sight and pray that one day he grows out of that abomination of a sweater. 
Your eyes drift back to your stupid math test, silently praying again that the torture won’t last for much longer. You were just one step away from greasy pizza and store-bought sugar cookies until your stomach hurt while The Polar Express filled the dim room. Well, one step away is technically two more questions, but it still feels so far.
You begrudgingly answer one of the questions then slump back into your seat, burying your head in your arms. You’re so close to freedom, but you still feel held captive by the test, like it’s shackled your arms and legs to your desk while Rudolph down the hall taunts you, dangling the coveted Christmas cheer over your head.
You don’t even care if you get the questions right anymore. You just scribble down some scratch work that seems somewhat coherent and circle whatever answer is closest then shove your test in your teacher’s hands, eager to get that nasty piece of paper away from you. Then you’re left to wait… and wait… and wait.
It’s unfair. You weren’t meant to be doing a math test the last day before winter break. You weren’t built to be suffering silently at your desk because some people didn’t know how to do long division. (Well, neither do you, but that’s besides the point.)
But nevertheless, you wait… and wait… and wait.
And then, finally, the last student turns in their paper.
The second the teacher plops the pile of tests on her desk, you practically spring up from your seat. You revel in the sweet, sweet freedom, but although your classmates seem just as relieved, they also seem painfully slow. That might also just be all the candy from your teacher’s goody bag pumping through your veins, but it made no difference to you.
Acting as self-appointed leader, you hastily motion for other kids in your class to move the tables to either side of the room, forming a sort of tetris with the desks, while others line trays of food across them. The pizzas are laid out next to different bowls of chips and festive little chocolates in the shapes of snowflakes and snowmen. Small Christmas-themed cups sit at the end of the table with giant bottles of bright, sugary drinks for you to choose from. Like, the ones that are bigger than your face. That’s how you know it’s good.
Hushed whispers of excitement make their way around the classroom as everyone settles down, wrapping themselves in the blankets they had brought to school for today. You take a seat next to Jeongin on the carpet right as the teacher switches the projector on, placing your paper plate filled to the brim with junk food in between you two as you get comfortable.
“How many cookies did you grab?!” Jeongin gawks, marveling at the sight. Whether it’s from amazement or concern is unclear.
You smile smugly at him. The light from the projector as your teacher sets up The Polar Express illuminates his baffled stare. “Not enough.”
He blinks once. “We’re not gonna split it?”
You giggle and push the plate closer to Jeongin, but not without swiping a Santa-shaped cookie from the pile. “I never said we weren’t.”
Jeongin just laughs at you and shakes his head, but the fact that he takes not one, not two, but three cookies from the plate tells you he’s just as excited as you. He attempts to remain nonchalant, though, as he wordlessly pushes a plate stacked with pizza towards you.
Grinning at him, you pick up a slice, the grease glinting in the low light. “Thanks,” you mumble as you take a bite. 
Rolling his eyes, he continues to laugh. “Don’t mention it.” 
There’s something about being next to Jeongin as you watch The Polar Express together, fluffy throw blankets draped around your outstretched legs that catch the crumbs from the snacks you two share, that brings you a sense of comfort. Excitement courses through your body, but somehow, you also feel oddly at peace.
It even seems to transport you to another world, and you forget you had even painstakingly suffered through a math test leading up to this in the first place. Eventually, your mind stops paying attention to the movie—it’s okay, though, because you practically know the story front to back. Instead, you find yourself daydreaming about being awoken in the middle of the night like the boy in the movie, and finding yourself on the fantastical train with Jeongin. A small smile decorates your face as you ponder, imagining all the chaos you could get yourselves into as you made the magical journey to the North Pole together.
However, when the other kids start to gasp and point towards the window, you’re brought back to the real world. Looking over to where they were pointing, you’re greeted with a powdery blanket covering the grass outside, and a grin instantly spreads across your face in delight. 
Finally. It’s snowing. 
You aren’t the only one to jump up from out of your seat in hopes of rushing outside to experience the first snowfall of winter. And you aren’t the first one out of the classroom door either. The calls from your teacher fade into the background like white noise as you scramble out from under your blanket and make a dash for the door as quickly as you can.
“Y/N,” Jeongin calls right before you can run outside, and you turn on your heel.
He speed-walks, then speeds up to an awkward half-jog to where you stand as he digs his hands through his pockets, and you can’t help but chuckle. It takes him until right after he stops in front of you to fish whatever this thing was out. Was it an early Christmas gift? The dreaded cheese touch? You are about to find out.
A crumpled piece of paper falls out of Jeongin’s coat, grazing his hand as he yanks it out of his pocket. He picks it up and unfolds it carefully, squinting at the note.
Leaning over, you peek over his shoulder and furrow your brows as you try to decipher the writing scrawled on. “’Ask Y/N about Christmas’?” You turn your head to the boy. “What about it?”
Jeongin eyes widen for a second as he tries to remember the context of the note. “My parents wanted me to ask if you wanted to…” 
You tilt your head. “Wanted to…?” You repeat.
“What was it that they said?” He mumbles to himself. He looks up, his eyebrows furrowed, and then something seems to click. “Was it… stay? Stay for Christmas?”
You blink, watching the boy with inquisitive eyes. “Stay for Christmas?” you question. 
“Yeah, stay for Christmas.” He hums, and his voice grows more confident as he continues. “Yeah, that’s what they said to ask!” He’s now grinning, and his movements become more animated. “Yeah! Stay with us for Christmas Eve! You have to come, Y/N, it’s a Christmas sleepover! It’ll be fun!”
You light up like a, well, Christmas tree at the idea. You could already picture the absolute blast you’re going to have. Chasing each other around in your pajamas as Christmas music rings in your ears? Eating the cookies his mom laid out for Santa until you're sick? Finding the jolly man himself? And imagine playing in the snow in the morning after ripping your presents open!
“That sounds so fun!” You squeal, beaming from ear to ear. “I'll have to ask my parents, but I'm sure they'll let me go!”
“Y/N, Jeongin,” your teacher interrupts your enthusiasm, her arm propping the door open. “You can’t stay inside by yourselves, come on!”
“Coming!” you two call back in unison, and then you glance at each other. You catch a mischievous glint in Jeongin’s eyes before he bolts for the door, outstretching his arm in front of you before you can react and outrun him.
“Race ya!”
“Hey!”
“Mommmm! Daddddd!” you drawl out, a frown stretched across your face as you bounce on the balls of your feet. Your finger impatiently hovers over the doorbell, and if your parents took any longer to grab… whatever they brought for Jeongin’s parents, you would just mash the white button yourself. Or you’d teleport yourself inside; forget the doorbell entirely.
You follow their movements attentively, your fists balled around your backpack straps and teeth pressed against your tongue to keep yourself from complaining more. You had already gotten an earful in the car, not to mention some confused glances when you mentioned the long-anticipated sleepover you had stayed up until the ungodly hours of 10pm preparing your backpack for. If they thought that was late for a fourth-grader, imagine their horror if they knew of your and Jeongin’s plan to stay up all night and see Santa Claus! 
Regardless, you couldn’t pinpoint why your parents raised their eyebrows and snickered at the idea of you sleeping over at Jeongin’s house. Maybe it was the fact that you had your hair messily thrown up into a ponytail and that your light-up Christmas sweatshirt was maybe a size too big—I mean, say what you want, but you’re perfectly dressed for the occasion.
You were sure that was the reason. And certainly not the fact you were practically jumping out of your skin—maybe acting a little bit too excited—to get inside to see your best friend.
Your parents just didn’t understand that this was a pivotal moment. Plus, you’re getting cold. One can only stand outside for so long.
After what felt like hours of waiting, the door finally swings open to reveal Jeongin’s mother, welcoming you and your parents inside. You release your backpack straps from your grip and sprint past your mother, shouting a “Hi, Mrs. Yang!” as you rip your shoes from your feet.
Shaking your backpack off your shoulders, you make a beeline for Jeongin, who puts down his video game controller when you come into view.
“I made it, Jeongin!” you grin from ear to ear, tossing your backpack aside.
“Yay!” he breaks out into a grin and scoots over.
You plop down at the spot next to him, grabbing the spare controller as you watch the mustached man on screen walk right into a brown mushroom and die. And in World 1-1, you may add.
“Let me on! Let’s get this sleepover started!” you mash the ‘A’ button repeatedly, hoping it somehow speeds up Jeongin getting back to the main menu. Oh, were you ready to kick his sorry butt.
Suddenly, you hear bouts of laughter echo from the hallway. You tear your eyes off the screen, finding your and Jeongin’s parents entering the living room. If it weren’t for the wall that your father leaned against, he would have collapsed to the floor from how hard he was laughing.
“Jeongin, you told Y/N there was a sleepover?!” Jeongin’s mother exclaimed in between giggles.
Jeongin looks up from his game, his eyebrows drawn together. “Yeah?” He blinks, his voice laced with confusion. “That’s what you said to ask?”
His mom laughs even harder at his reply, her hand over her mouth. “Honey sweet, no!”
Jeongin‘s mouth twists into a frown. He opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again.
Mrs. Yang takes a minute to regain her composure before explaining to the boy, “I meant to ask her to stay for the evening, not the whole night.” She tries to keep a straight face, but another giggle slips out. “There’s no sleepover.”
Jeongin looks down, avoiding eye contact with the four adults laughing at his mix-up as heat rises to his cheeks. Dropping his game controller on his lap, he covers his face with his hands, and lets out a nervous chuckle as his face slowly turns red.
You would’ve been lying if you said you weren’t disappointed that you couldn’t try to see Santa with Jeongin, after all. Despite this loss, you try your best not to laugh at your friend, covering up your giggles with awkward coughs to save Jeongin from more embarrassment. You know both his and your parents will never let him live this down.
And frankly, neither will you.
11 years old.
“You son of a nutcracker!” You cry in unison with Buddy the Elf, your mouth stuffed with an audaciously big chunk of cookie. Maybe you got a bit carried away, but you couldn’t help it if someone was kind enough to bring a platter of fresh-baked cookies to the annual neighborhood Christmas party. It might have been the Choi family—the one with the son your age—which makes sense since they’re hosting the party this year.
Looking up from the gingerbread house he was carefully decorating, Jeongin stares at you with a disgusted frown as you struggle to break down the cookie. 
You look back at him innocently, trying not to laugh. “Hi,” you wave, your mouth still full.
Jeongin shakes his head at you. “I worry about you sometimes.”
“You should.” You swallow most of the bite, wincing as you feel it go down.
Gulping down the rest of the cookie, you prop your chin in the palm of your hand as you pull your attention away from the tv and watch Jeongin. He bites his bottom lip lightly, glancing back and forth between the gumdrops and peppermints around the island and the gingerbread house. He squeezes out some icing, poking his tongue out in concentration, and sticks a peppermint window to the food structure.
Smiling at his little creation in progress, you gently poke one of the small candy canes that stand around the house. Jeongin quickly pushes your hand away, letting out a small whine.
You chuckle at his reaction and do it again, and he swats your hand away once more. “Stop itttt~”
You giggle and hold your hands up. “Okayyy, okay.”
You silently follow his movements with your eyes before they flick down to his sweater. It’s hideous, as most holiday sweaters are. The cartoon reindeer with a head too big for its body taunts you, but at the same time it just screams Jeongin. But there is no trace of that obnoxious shade of purple, and you thank whatever deity is above you for it.
Jeongin studies the gingerbread house for a moment, gently turning the brown building around. He takes a yellow gumdrop in his hand and hovers it over a spot on the roof, squinting ever-so-slightly as he imagined how it would look in the final product, whatever he imagined it to be. You stay quiet and just let him go—you know better than to interrupt Jeongin’s creative process.
“What if you did rows of gumdrops on the roof?” 
Mrs. Choi, on the other hand, doesn’t know better. The one with the son your age, that is—he tagged along with you and Jeongin for lunch a couple times. What was his name again? Beomgyu, right? 
You notice the corners of Jeongin’s mouth twitching downward before he catches himself. “I don’t know,” he says, putting the gumdrop down. “I’ll figure it out.”
Mrs. Choi shrugs and just lingers around, mumbling something about how it reminds her of Hansel and Gretel. You thought she had a point… kind of. You had always heard of the tale of Hansel and Gretel and the house made of candy, but considering it wasn’t much of a Christmas story, you tended to ignore it. 
“Oh, that reminds me…” she says to herself after a minute, walking over to the dining table where all the parents sat around. You lean over in your seat and listen closely. 
“Beomgyu keeps bugging me about having a sleepover with Jeongin,” Mrs. Choi says as she approaches Jeongin’s mom, her voice carrying over the rest of the chatter enough for you to eavesdrop.
Mrs. Yang nods, a small smile playing at her lips. “That'd be fun for them, when can he come over?”
You blink. It’s… it’s that easy for him?
The two mothers begin talking about schedules or appointments or some other boring adult thing. Whatever it is, you tune it out and turn back to Jeongin, who has opted for an array of different colored gumdrops carefully spread across the roof. 
“You’re,” you hesitate, “You’re allowed to sleep over with Beomgyu?” 
“Yeah,” Jeongin hums. ”I’ve slept over at his place and he’s been begging to come to mine.”
He chuckles, gluing on another gumdrop, until his words sink in and he fully processes them. His eyes then widen in realization, and he lets the tube of frosting drop from his hand before marching over to his parents.
“Mom,” Jeongin taps on his mom’s shoulder until she turns to him. “Why does Beomgyu get to sleep over but Y/N doesn't?”
You lean over again, hoping to overhear an explanation from Mrs. Yang. All you hear is laughter.
Laughter? That’s it?
You squint as you lean further in their direction, as if squinting would increase the volume of the conversation. All you could observe was a confused look from Mrs. Choi, and a fit of giggles from Mrs. Yang. How helpful.
“Did I ever tell you what happened last year?!” your mom practically shouts to Mrs. Choi, proving your efforts unnecessary. 
“Oh my god, you have to hear this! It’s a good one, it’s so cute,” Mrs. Yang gushes, glancing at a flustered Jeongin. 
The boy frowns and buries his face in his hands, growing more frustrated. “Mommm!”
A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker between the now-insanely-embarrassed Jeongin, and his parents’ delight at retelling the account of ‘stay for Christmas’. As Mrs. Yang continued, Jeongin sinks deeper and deeper into himself, and you could practically see a little pinkish-red aura surrounding him. 
“And so he tells her…” Mrs. Yang's voice fades into the background when you look out the window and gasp.
Snow.
Before you can register it, your legs are already pushing yourself off the stool, and then you’re running and shoving past other partygoers as you make your way to Jeongin.
“Jeongin.” You tug on his sleeve as you try to get him to move his hands away from his face. However, he swats your hand away. 
“Shut up,” he whines. 
“No, look,” you try again, tugging more. “It’s snowing!” 
Hands instantly falling from his face, he looks out of the window you were motioning at and gasps as well. “Snow.” 
Quickly, you glance at Mrs. Yang, making sure she’s still in in-depth story mode before you grab onto Jeongin’s hand and pull him outside into the cold. You shiver lightly as the winter air nips at your nose, but welcome it nonetheless.
“Wanna make a snowman?” you suggest.
Jeongin shrugs.
“Suit yourself.”
Humming to yourself, you squat down at an empty spot and begin to pile some snow together. A small smile decorates your face, perfectly pairing with your rosy cheeks.
I mean, how could you not be happy right now? It’s the first snow of winter. It may be your third first winter, but you swear each one gets more magical than the last. You know Jeongin would agree, no matter how cranky he may be right now.
“That’s like the fifth time my mom’s told that story this month,” the boy huffs after a minute, kicking at the snow in front of him. “It's not even funny anymore. I was a stupid ten-year-old.”
Looking up from the small base of the snowman, you let out a laugh. “I mean… you were ten last year.”
“Y/NNN,” Jeongin whines.
“And it was kinda funny—”
“Y/N!”
You feel a sudden blast of cold hit your side and you let out a yelp, shielding your face with your arms. Gasping, you look back up after a second to Jeongin preparing more ammunition. Suddenly, you’re in the mood to wipe the shi—sorry, poop-eating grin from your best friend’s face. One nice, cold wipe.
“You ass!” you shriek, gasping and covering your mouth once you realize what you had just said. Thank goodness your mom didn’t hear you or she would’ve brought out the bar of soap.
“That’s what you get!” Jeongin cackles back, hurling another snowball your way. This one also hits your coat, splattering into pieces once it collides with your stomach.
“Oh, it’s on!”
12 years old.
The final bell rings across the school to signal the start of winter break. Students of all types make their way out of the main entrance, leaving you and Jeongin in a rather quiet hallway with your locker still open. 
Whilst you clear it out, the fruitful voice of Jeongin’s new club buddy fills your ears.
“‘Sup, babies.”
You and Jeongin jump at not only the sudden voice, but also the feeling of an arm going around both your shoulders. A year older than you, Jisung, whom Jeongin had met through the middle school’s anime club, sports round glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose. His hair is a chestnut brown, split right down the middle to frame his face. 
Jeongin shrugs Jisung’s arm off of his shoulders, but his other arm stays around you. “How are my favorite underclassmen?” Jisung coos, reaching around to ruffle Jeongin’s hair.
Jeongin jerks his head away from Jisung’s hand, a groan escaping his lips. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”
“Nope!” Jisung says, flashing the younger boy a dopey grin.
Chuckling, you duck under Jisung’s arm to grab your backpack as Jeongin scrambles to fix his messy hair. You aren’t sure when or why Jisung started referring to you two as ‘babies' when he was only a year older. He once said something about “taking Jeonginnie under his wing” when you first met him, but that’s the closest thing to an explanation that you got.
Once Jeongin manages to tame his hair, he looks at Jisung with a shimmer in his eye. “Did you pick what we’re going to watch next?” he asks, referring to the next club meeting. It wouldn’t be until after New Year’s, but you figured they’d want to plan ahead now while they’re technically still in school.
“Not yet, but I was thinking of going with a classic,” Jisung muses before turning to you. “You should really join us, Y/N.” 
You hum in response, pushing your lips into a line as you ponder it. Of course Jeongin had tried to get you to watch anime with him before, but it was just something you found difficult to get into. “Maybe,” is all you say, mostly to make Jisung happy. 
“Yeah! Anyway,” Jisung quickly moves the conversation along, slinging his arms around both your shoulders again and pulling you two closer to him. “What are you guys doing for Christmas? We should do something!” He gleams, glancing back and forth between you two. “With our parents’ permission, of course.” 
As Jisung gazes longingly at a dog passing by, yours moves to Jeongin and you giggle at the sight of his cheeks tinting pink. He says nothing, but when he looks up and notices you staring at him, he rolls his eyes.
At the silence, Jisung finally tears his eyes away from the dog, who stops at a street pole for a sniff, and looks between you and Jeongin again. “What's up with you two?” he gulps. “You’re acting weird.”
Jeongin makes a sour face. “You’re acting weird,” he tries to rebut, but he only proves Jisung’s point. 
Jisung stops suddenly on the sidewalk. He tilts his head at Jeongin and squints, searching the younger’s face. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Jeongin deadpans, turning his heel to continue the walk home.
“Noooo.” The older boy pulls him back by the hoodie before he can walk away. He gets all up in Jeongin’s face, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows suspiciously. “There’s something going on, isn’t there?”
Nosily, you watch as Jeongin opens his mouth to speak before quickly closing it again. He seems to want to shrink into himself, and you both know why. To his dismay, you find it wholly amusing.
“Baby, come onnnn,” Jisung bounces in place as he chants, “Tell me, tell me, tell me…”
Deciding to ignore the boys’ shenanigans, you look up at the clouds and begin to think about your own plans for Christmas, a small smile forming on your lips.
You’ve always loved the holidays, but after settling into your new neighborhood, it grew on you and swept you off your feet like never before. It’s way more than just the snow—it’s the joy swirling in the air when Christmas music finally begins to play on the radio. It’s the sparkle in the night sky when the whole town shows off their colorful lights. Maybe it’s also the inhuman amount of hot chocolate and sugar cookies coursing through your veins. You’re not hyped up on sugar right now, but Jeongin would be hopelessly shaking his head at you if you were.
It’s way more than just beautiful snow, but it seemed to add a magical touch to Christmas that you never felt in your old neighborhood.
It came like clockwork, too, just like the Christmas party, and you’re eagerly counting the days until both come to life for the first time this season. Especially the Christmas party. Your and Jeongin’s schedules only matched up for lunch this year, and you’re in dire need of some quality time with your best friend.
“Y/N?” Jisung gently shakes your shoulder, interrupting your train of thought.
You blink a few times. “Huh? Yeah?”
“What are your plans for Christmas?”
You look back up at the sky, your lips curving upward again. “I’ll be with my family on Christmas. I'm not doing anything much for Christmas Eve, though,” you say with a giggle, emphasizing the ‘eve’. “It depends.” 
Jisung continues to look at you—and Jeongin—with an eyebrow raised. “On what?” 
You have to take a breath to try and compose yourself before you continue.
“On—” 
“Can’t you let it go?” Jeongin cuts you off with a whine. “It was basically two years ago!”
“‘Cause it was two years ago,” you continue to giggle. 
Jisung blinks, trying to figure out this inside joke you two are bickering over, but the poor boy is just as confused as when the conversation started. “What was two years ago?”
“Oh my god, Y/N,” Jeongin grumbles, but it’s hard to take him seriously when he’s failing miserably trying to hide a smile. You just flash your brows at him, and he slides out from under Jisung’s arm and heads straight for you. 
A teasing grin grazes your lips, and you gently push Jisung’s arm off of you so you can run away. 
“You do this every year!” Jeongin cries out, attempting to reach for your backpack.
“‘Cause it’s funny!” you shout back.
You can feel Jeongin’s fingers brush your shoulders every now and then as he chases after you. Giggles bubble from your throat as you try to make a break for it, tricking him by going the opposite way to where he is. However, he catches on to your attempt to escape and grabs you quickly. His arms wrap securely around you and pull you back as he hugs you, his laughter loud in your ears. 
You let out a surprised squeak as you try to wriggle your way out of Jeongin’s grip. “Jeongin, I was kidding, I was kidding!” you cry out in between giggles.
“You always do this!” he giggles too, refusing to let you go.
“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” you squeal. Tears start to prick your eyes from how hard you’re laughing. 
Jeongin lets his arms fall and his lip juts out into a pout. You turn to him and quickly match it. 
“Sure, you are,” he mutters, enhancing his frown. 
“I mean it, Jeonginnieee.” You lean closer and let your arms slip around him. “I'm sorry.” 
He stays stiff for a second before he wraps his arms back around you and smiles. “It's okay.” 
A high-pitched squeal from Jisung makes you both jump in surprise and let go of each other. You both stare back at Jisung, who wears a giddy grin stretching from ear to ear. His hands are balled up in tiny fists together, flying up to his mouth as he bounces a little in place.
You blink a few times, stunned to silence for a few seconds before finally speaking. “You okay, Jisung?” 
“Y-You… the…” Jisung stammers excitedly before trailing off.
He points between the two of you, then to the sky, and as you both follow his finger, a cold wet drop lands on your cheek, and another on your nose. Jeongin lets out a squeak at one hitting him in the eye, and he scrunches up his face at the impact.
You looked back at Jisung, gesturing upward. “The snow?” you finish his sentence.
The older boy nods eagerly. “Yeah, yeah, the snow!”
You want to smile, you really do—it is the first snow of winter, after all. But it seems like he has a different reason for his exuberance than you do.
You exchange a glance with Jeongin, and he seems just as lost as you are. At this point, you might as well just ask. “What about it?”
Was it because the snow was pretty as it dotted the earth below you? Was it because it marked the start of only the most beautiful time of the year? This could really go any direction.
“You know, like the movies?” He rambles. “When the boy and the girl witness the first snowfall together and…”
Oh no, no, no. Not that direction.
Briskly stepping away from each other, you both frantically shake your heads, the tips of your ears glowing red. Jeongin argues back with a string of flustered protests that you could only nod along to, as you were at a loss for words yourself.
You wonder what was in the snow that had fallen on Jisung to make him think this way. It was insane, he was insane. You and Jeongin? Jisung must’ve gone mad.
Jisung deflates a little, a pout pulling his lips downward. “Aww. That would’ve been cute though.”
You force out a chuckle before continuing your route home. Jisung parts ways somewhere halfway through, but an icky feeling persists in your stomach for the rest of the walk.
It truly baffles you how he saw you and Jeongin having an inside joke, you know, like best friends do, and somehow morphed it into some coupley thing all because of a little snow. The snow is beautiful, of course, but throwing that sappy stuff on top of it? Jisung’s watched way too many movies. And anime. An alarming amount of anime. 
“I’ll, um,” Jeongin clears his throat as you both approach your front door. “I’ll see you at the party next week.”
An awkward tension still hangs above you from earlier, but you manage to muster a small smile. “Yeah. See you then.”
He smiles back and gives you a little wave before he begins the five-minute walk to his house. But before you knock on your door…
“Wait!” you blurt and reach out for him. You wrap your fingers around Jeongin’s wrist, prompting him to turn around.
“Yeah?”
“That, um, that thing Jisung was saying,” you hesitate, stumbling over your words. You force out another chuckle in hopes to relieve the tension that’s making your stomach twist into knots. “That’s— that’s not gonna happen to us… right?”
Jeongin lets out a scoff, waving you off reassuringly. “Of course not, Jisung’s just being Jisung.” He smiles a little. “We’re best friends, remember?”
His words fill you with relief, and you smile back. “Yeah. The bestest of friends.”
“That’s not a word.”
“You know what I mean, Jeongin.” You chuckle genuinely this time as you roll your eyes, turning back to your front door. “I’ll see you at the party.”
It’s ridiculous that you have to even ask, but apparently it’s necessary. You’re just lucky Jisung listened to Jeongin in the end, or this whole shipping fiasco would’ve been much more difficult than it needed to be.
Especially since several of your classmates who witnessed the interaction in front of the school parking lot actually seemed to believe it. 
13 years old.
You nibble at your bottom lip and run one hand up and down your forearm. Jisung has been glaring rather unamused daggers at you for five minutes now, his round eyes perpetually locked on you as you try to focus on the TV. It makes you feel like there was something crawling all over you, and you have the overwhelming urge to itch every bit of exposed skin you had—which isn’t a lot, but still. 
Part of you was tempted to turn to Jisung just to try and poke his eyes out. You wouldn’t actually do it, but with his eyes boring into your head like this, it’s hard not to think about it. You just wanted to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas in peace.
“...Are you gonna talk to him? Like, at all?” Jisung speaks. 
A small pout plays at your lips and you cross your arms over your chest. “How can I?” you start. “He hasn’t spoken to me since the start of the year.” 
The older boy lets out a sigh. “Have you tried to speak to him?” 
You nod once. Finally, something he can’t get on your case for.
Jisung blinks. “…Besides at lunch back in April?”
You huff, looking down at your lap. Your knuckles turn white as you ball the fabric of your sweater in your fists. "Well, it was kinda hard to do when he’s always with Beomgyu.”
Jisung leans forward to get a better look at you, whilst he rests his chin on his palm. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound jealous."
You can’t tell if you want to scoff or to laugh. Jealous? You? Of course not. You just wanted to be around your best friend again. To be able to hang out with your best friend of three years without some stupid kid in your grade teasing you about dating or about how ‘oOOoH, yOu’RE sO iN lOvE’. Ever since winter break ended, it was all you ever heard when you were around him.
"I’m not jealous." You raise your voice slightly, pushing him away without moving your gaze away from the cartoon. "He was my best friend first."
"Can you hear yourself when you speak?"
“Can you hear how annoying you are right now?”
Jisung blinks at you again. He pushes himself off the couch and stands in front of you, his gaze more gentle this time. “You know he asks me about you too, right?”
You sigh. It’s probably the fifth time this week that Jisung has reminded you of this. It’s not that you don’t want to believe him, but with the way Jeongin stared at you with hollow eyes the last time you tried to talk to him in the cafeteria eight months ago, you’re not sure if you can.
“Plus, he’s literally…” Jisung continues, spinning you around to where Jeongin sat in the kitchen with Beomgyu. Right where you two sat at the Christmas party two years ago. “…right there.”
“I know,” you huff.
Of course you knew that, and you knew he knew you knew. Jeongin was the first one you recognized when you stepped foot in the Choi house for the party. Sure, part of it was because Jisung frantically shook your arm and pointed him out, but even if he wasn’t there you would’ve spotted the top of his head from a mile away. You would’ve known he hadn’t left his gingerbread house in the kitchen all afternoon, whether or not the coconut-haired boy was there to pester you about it.
”Then gooo,” Jisung chides, pushing you to the kitchen island by the shoulders. “Talk. To him.”
Oddly enough, talking to him is the last thing you want to do. At least, not here. Not when there’s a bunch of adults that, frankly, are nosier than your typical middle schooler. Luckily, the only adult there when you approach the kitchen island only glances at you for a second before stepping past you. No one else is watching, but it still feels like a hundred pairs of eyes are piercing into your skull.
You suck in a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
“Hey.”
Jeongin pushes his lips into a thin line when he looks up at you. “Hi.”
From the corner of your eye, you can see Beomgyu raise his head and look at you both before going back to what he was doing. Rocking on the balls of your feet, you take another deep breath. “How’ve you been? It’s been a while.”
You’re not sure how long Jeongin goes quiet for, but every second of silence makes you feel like your insides are trying to escape from you. You purse your lips as your gaze casts down to your feet, unable to look him in the eye. Why did the friendship between you and Jeongin have to change? Why couldn’t people just keep their mouths shut?
“I’ve been okay,” he mumbles. “Just busy, you know?” 
You hum in response. He was right; this year had been a lot school-wise, especially when you counted how everyone watched you like hawks, ready to strike at the first opportunity for a ‘ship moment’, as some people had started to call it. 
“Yeah.” You try to laugh, but anyone can tell it’s fake. “Me too.”  
Jeongin stays silent again, just nodding at your words. You weren’t sure what heartbreak was and of course, you weren’t in love with him. He is—was—your best friend. But if you had to guess, heartbreak probably feels something close to what you’re feeling right now.
You gulp, and take one more shaky breath. Your bottom lip wavers as you try to get your next words out.
“I…” miss you. 
You want to say it so bad, but you stopped yourself as soon as you started. When Jeongin doesn’t turn his head, you feel your heart sink to your stomach, or whatever the equivalent of that was when your best friend completely ignores you, effectively declaring the end of your best-friendship. 
You hate this so much. Screw the other kids for getting in the way of your friendship, screw Jeongin for letting them, screw yourself for not doing more to stop it, and screw Jisung for pushing you over to talk to him. 
You don’t say anything more as you turn away and solemnly make your way back over to where Jisung is still standing. When you feel tears pool in your eyes, you make a sharp turn for the bathroom, and the older boy worriedly trails after you.
“Baby…” he calls as he follows, quickening his pace to catch up to you. “Surely it wasn’t that bad.” 
You stop in your tracks, suddenly causing Jisung to bump into you. He leans forward and around your shoulder before taking a step into your view, instantly frowning when he sees the sadness apparent on your face. “Baby…” 
“It’s over, Jisung.” You blink rapidly. “We’re never going to be friends again, not after this.” 
Furrowing his eyebrows together, Jisung sighs. He places his hands on your shoulders to try and get you to look at him. “Don’t say that, you guys will get past this. You guys are best friends for a reason.” 
“No, we won’t.” Your voice shakes as you speak. “You saw how awkward it was back there! There’s no way he wants to be friends anymore… let alone best friends.”
You continue to blink your tears away, but one manages to slide down your cheek. Your breathing becomes ragged as your world feels like it’s crashing down on you, and all you can do is helplessly step closer to Jisung as you hiccup.
“I just want my best friend back.” 
Pulling you in, Jisung wraps his arms around you in his attempt to comfort you. He sighs quietly, his own frown on his lips as you choke out a sob.
“I know you do.” 
14 years old.
Well, your last year of middle school was off to a surprisingly pleasant start.
After years of being told where in the classroom you could sit, your 1st period teacher nearly had you jumping for joy when she said you were free to pick your seat for the year. It was such a minute detail to be in control of, but it felt so freeing to your adolescent self.
The only problem: you don’t know anyone in this class. You vaguely recognize two or three faces from last school year, but even they had gravitated to other students in the class, clustering into their already-established friend groups. It’s like the galaxies in the night sky that you learned about last year, and you’re a lone star, floating around in the abyss called your new English classroom. 
Shrugging to yourself, you scoot past some students in the aisles and pick a seat in the middle of the room in between two other empty desks. You had counted ten or so desks that had yet to be filled, so you figured you should take your chances. You don’t know anyone… at least, for now. Maybe someone will show up later.
Sliding your phone out of your pocket, you plug your headphones into your ears and listen to music for the last few minutes of passing period to relax a little. It quickly feels pointless, though, as the chatter in the classroom overpowers the song blasting right by your eardrums. 
However, one voice seems to ring above all the others.
“Um… is this seat taken?”
You take an earbud out, lifting your head to find the source of the voice. Jeongin stands over the chair to your left, adorning a god-awful purple sweater that reminds you of the one he wore when you first met. It almost brings a smile to your face… almost. It probably would have if things had ended differently between you two.
This is the first time you have spoken to him since The Most Awkward Conversation Of Your Life™. Maybe you were being slightly dramatic, or at least that’s what Jisung had told you for weeks after the incident, but you still stood by what you felt. You weren't sure if you and Jeongin could ever get back to the way you were—not having spoken since that moment kind of proved to you that you couldn’t.
Yet here you are. You’re not sure if this will just be a one-off conversation or a second chance of sorts. But after a moment, you decide to take that chance.
“Go for it.” You gesture to the seat.
Jeongin smiles awkwardly, the tips of his ears pink as he sets his backpack down on the floor. He doesn’t move to get any of his things out of his bag, and just sits there with laser-focus on his hands that rest on top of his desk.
You’re not sure how long you two sat in silence, but thankfully, it feels nothing like the last time. It actually feels…. comfortable. Welcoming, even. Almost like when you first met him at the monkey bars.
Jeongin looks over at you after a few moments, still rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand. “So… how are you?” he finally speaks.
It’s then that you notice just how much deeper Jeongin’s voice has gotten since the last time you spoke. You figure it would make sense; you hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, and a lot can happen in said year. It’s still odd, however—seeing him change, but not being there to experience it with him.
You nod, looking down at your own hands, but you let a small smile slip out. “I’m okay.”
You are okay, really, at least for the moment. But now you knew you would be, for sure.
“Who wants the last cookie—” Mrs. Yang calls from the kitchen, but she’s quickly cut short.
“ME!”
You and Jeongin spring up from the couch at the same time, giggling as you push past each other and race to the kitchen. At the last second, Jeongin sticks his arm in front of you just as you come in reach of the cookie, barring you from the baked treat as he swipes it with his free hand.
“Hey!” You cross your arms, biting your lip to stifle more giggles from coming out. “You cheated!”
Jeongin doesn’t even try to hide the cocky smirk on his face. “Oh, you love me anyway.”
You narrow your eyes at the boy. “Do I? Do I really?”
Jeongin only stares back at you, blinking a few times before he bites into the cookie. Right. In. Front of you.
Your jaw drops in betrayal. What an asshole, he knew you loved those cookies more than life itself! If you had to choose, though, you highly preferred this over where you two were a year ago. He may be stealing your cookies like the pubescent raven-haired crook he is, but since it comes with being best friends again, you’ll learn to live with it.
You keep your eyes trained on him as you calculate your next move. You know exactly how to get him back for this, but is it worth it? Was waiting only a few months after recovering your friendship enough time?
Oh, who are you kidding—of course it was.
“Two can play that game,” you state, taking a piece of cookie from his hand.
The boy scoffs. “Oh, really?”
Your eyes widening ever-so-slightly, you bite into the cookie. You keep your gaze on him as you chew, not looking away even for a second, and you say the three magic words—even more magic than ‘please.’
“Stay for Christmas?”
His smirk immediately drops, and one of your own plays at your lips. You know you got him.
“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” he grumbles.
You just swipe another piece of cookie from his hand, still grinning triumphantly. “To be fair,” you swirl the cookie in your hand for emphasis, “you walked right into it.”
Jeongin sighs, watching you toss the last bit of the cookie into your mouth. “There's nothing I can do to make you forget it, huh?’
“Nope,” you say with your mouth full. “Not unless you do something more quote-worthy.”
“Fine, then stay.”
You freeze, your cheeks still full of chewed-up cookie. “What?”
“You heard me, Y/N.” Jeongin steps closer, not breaking eye contact. “Just stay for Christmas. It’d be fun, and at least then, you’d have nothing to try and tease me with.”
You swallow the dessert in your mouth and stare at him, speechless. All this time, you had been just playing along with the line as a joke. Was it actually possible to have a sleepover with him? You almost smile as you ponder it over in your head. Being all cooped up in his room and kicking his ass at Mario Kart, then scrambling to be in bed by midnight as if Santa would actually appear the second the clock strikes twelve? You don’t have to think twice.
“Honey sweet, you and Y/N are still on that?” Mrs. Yang says, turning her head to look at you two from the sink.
Jeongin groans. “Yeah, mom, and why do you still call me that?!”
His mother just chuckles and turns back to the dishes she’s rinsing. From what you could gather, she doesn’t seem opposed to you sleeping over. It wasn’t a yes, but it certainly wasn’t a resounding no, so you jump to make a beeline for your parents and beg them to let you stay overnight.
Unfortunately, your parents have a more straightforward answer for you. Not even the growing piles of snow outside could save you from going back home at the end of the night.
You also receive quite the lecture about “the dangers of staying over at boys’ houses” on the way home. Their words fly in one ear and the other for you. If this was anyone else, it’d be different, but this is your best friend that they’re talking about.
The only time Jeongin ever laid a hand on you was during the grand battle of Rainbow Road when you were eleven. In his defense, he didn’t mean to push you so hard that you fell off the bed and nearly dislocated your shoulder, but that’s what happens when two of the most competitive people you know go head-to-head in a battle of Mario Kart.
You huff. At least you know actually staying for Christmas might be an option one day.
15 years old.
You peek around the edge of your locker door every so often as you shove various notebooks into your bag. Even when you finished packing up, you busy yourself with pretending to wipe specks of dust off your binder, and checking that you chose the correct textbooks to bring home with you for the fifth time in three minutes.
Another minute or so passes and you check the clock on your phone, then you look past your locker door one more time, slowly leaning over until one eye peeps past the edge. You find Jeongin speaking to one of his teachers as they exited their classroom, waving goodbye as he heads closer to you. 
You smile to yourself, then scan the area around you one more time. The coast seems clear, but you decide to give it one more minute before going over to him, just to be safe.
“You’re doing that again?”
You jump and turn on your heel, nearly hitting your head against your locker door. Jisung stands behind you as he watches you incredulously, backpack slung over one shoulder as he leans against the wall of lockers. His arms are crossed as he raises an eyebrow at you, and his features are twisted into an odd mixture of concern and confusion.
You look back at the main hallway, then back at Jisung. “Um… yeah,” you state, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “Is there a problem?”
Jisung just snickers at your confidence. “Babe, honey, sweetie,” he says. You roll your eyes at the endless string of nicknames. “You look ridiculous.”
“I do not!” you scoff defensively.
He leans closer to you, his wide eyes boring into yours. “Is this about a booooy?” he teases jokingly.
You grimace in his direction, delivering a flick to his forehead as you pretend to rummage through your locker again. “You know what it’s about, Ji,” you grumble.
He’s technically not wrong. It is about a boy, but it’s not about a boy. There’s a huge difference—especially when the boy in question was Jeongin.
“You still look ridiculous.” He props an arm against the locker wall. “It’s like you want people to think you’re dating.”
You sigh, slamming your locker shut. “You don’t get it, people will stare if we don’t do this. Plus, our system’s worked for almost a semester already.”
“Y/N, this almost looks more suspicious than if you two just acted normally.” Reaching out a hand, he turns you by the shoulders to face him. “Is this peeking thing really necessary?”
You let out an agitated huff at his constant questioning. The nearly-unreadable grimace makes a return to Jisung’s face, and you know it is there to stay until you explain yourself. It seems pretty simple to you, though. 
You see, once middle school came to a close, you saw a window for a fresh start in high school. Any indications of The Incident™ (the former name had become a mouthful for you to repeat every time) were to die with the remnants of your braces phase and short-lived obsession with rainbow loom bracelets and 5 Seconds of Summer, as far as you were concerned. So, accordingly, you and Jeongin had devised a plan to prevent those dreaded “ship moments” from repeating themselves in high school.
Since most of your time together at school wasn’t in actual classes, you and Jeongin agreed to sit separately for bus rides to and from school, sometimes even opposite ends of the bus if necessary. On the way to school in the mornings, you two figured it was safe to walk together to the bus most days. Your neighborhood was one of the first stops and the few kids on the bus when you get on are usually snoring in the back. As long as you and Jeongin sat across from each other near the front and didn’t wake them up, you figured you’d be fine.
However, after school, you had to be fast. Ideally, you’d meet up with Jeongin when the hallways were less crowded than right when the final bell sounds, but when enough students were still hanging around the corridors that it wouldn't raise eyebrows with the school staff. You’d meet, speed-walk to the buses together, and enter separately. Once you pulled up at your stop, you two would depart and walk separately—until your bus turned the corner, then you’d walk each other home. It sounded like a lot, yeah, but after a while you get used to it.
After months of practice, you found that the most optimal time to pull this off was around five to eight minutes after the bell. Eight minutes was pushing it, but as long as you and Jeongin made a run for it, you wouldn’t miss your ride home. You had it down to a science. Jisung had no reason to worry, but he always seemed to find one.
Despite this, you don’t want to bother explaining the system you and Jeongin had perfected over the semester, again—the last time you did, it only raised more questions. So this time, you simply wave a hand in dismissal. “Yes, it’s necessary,” you deadpan, “you wouldn’t understand.”
Jisung blinks, then lets out an exhausted sigh. “If you insist…”
The older boy trails off, just in time for the younger one to appear at your side. “Hey, guys,” Jeongin chirps, waving at you both.
You smile at him briefly before turning to Jisung. “Do you have any other questions before we go?” you ask, your voice dripping in (mostly) feigned annoyance.
“No, but I probably will later.” The older brunet waves at one of his friends from anime club before looking back at the two of you one more time. “You two should go catch your bus, get home safe, yeah?”
You both nod, giving him a thumbs up as he jogs over to his friend, and you and Jeongin make your own jog for the front doors of the school.
You’re immediately greeted with a gray cloudy sky and you instantly feel the cold swirl around you. There are crowds of people littered around each section, waiting for their own respective buses. It doesn’t faze you in the least, though.
You had months of practice under your belt—years, actually, if you included shoving past couples in the school hallways who seemed to walk like they were floating on the moon. To this day, you never understood the appeal of holding up foot traffic for your fifth kiss goodbye of the hour, but whatever. Just like how other teenagers always mysteriously seemed to stop right in front of you just as you were dashing full speed for math class, you always seemed to find a way through the crowd.
It was simple, really. Like, actually simple compared to your aforementioned plan. Just keep your eyes straight ahead, and somehow, people always seem to clear a path for you. Despite your current plight, you and Jeongin have yet to miss your bus since the start of high school.
And that’s what you do. You take the lead in pushing through the masse of students, most of which are chatting amongst their friends as they meander to their ride home. Normally, you and Jeongin would talk a bit on the way, too, but you had hit the eight-minute mark thanks to your encounter with Jisung, so you had to book it. 
You keep your gaze locked in front of you, only turning back occasionally to make sure you didn’t lose Jeongin in the crowd. As predicted, students who aren’t otherwise in a hurry move out of your way. You let out a small sigh of relief at this; it’s one less thing you needed to worry about as you got closer to your bus.
Next: enter separately.
By the time you and Jeongin navigate your way out of the crowd and to bus #143, you find a line of students waiting to board that stretches the length of the bus itself. You groan, but at least you wouldn’t be stranded at school, so you consider this a win.
But still, you keep your unwritten pact in mind and you gesture for Jeongin to line up. “You go first,” you mumble, gently pushing him to the end of the line and you step back to wait another minute.
Jeongin turns back to you. “Aren’t you gonna get in line too?”
You stuff your hands in your pockets and quickly scan the line. You recognize the girl in front of him from math class, and two kids from the group of boys that just got behind Jeongin used to tease you two in middle school. “Not yet,” you shake your head. “It’s not safe.”
He furrows his brows together, his lips pulling downward. “You’re shivering,” he deadpans.
Now that he mentioned it, you realize you’re jumping in place in an attempt to warm up. It’s cold outside and you’re eager to leave, but you don’t mind waiting a little longer.
After moments of hesitation, Jeongin removes a hand from his hoodie pocket and grabs your forearm, making sure your hands stay in your own pockets as he pulls you to him. “Just get in line, Y/N,” he mumbles, “the sooner you get in line, the sooner we can get out of the cold.”
With wide eyes, you immediately step back. “Are you crazy?!” you hiss. “People are gonna talk!”
“So? Let them.”
Jeongin’s words ring in your head as he pulls you back towards him one more time.
You let out a gasp when you feel your body collide with his. You blink a few times to recompose yourself and stare up at him, your mouth agape. “What’s gotten into you?” Jeongin makes a face to himself as he responds, “What’s gotten into you?” 
“You know what got into me.” You give him a dubious look. “The agreement, the one we both agreed on?” 
Jeongin hums, shrugging his shoulders. His eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks back over to watch the line. “Who cares?”
“I thought you did…” 
His gaze burning into your skin makes you want to shrink away. Only a few months ago, he was dead set on this agreement, but now? What changed and so suddenly, at that? 
“Why should we let them try to ruin our friendship?” Jeongin asks after a beat of silence. “They already tried once, and look what happened. We shouldn’t let them again.” 
You freeze yet again at his words, so much that the boy has to drag you onto the bus with him. His hand on your forearm is enough to snap you out of your haze, and for some reason, it’s all you can focus on. 
You feel him let your arm go after a minute, and you look over at him. He slings his backpack off his shoulders and places it by his feet as he settles into the window seat, then looks back at you. “Aren’t you gonna sit down?” he says in a similar tone as earlier, patting the empty spot next to him.
“Um…”
Jeongin looks at you expectantly. It was tempting. it really was. But you catch a familiar wisp of curly hair as the group of boys from behind you two turn the corner and strut down the aisle.
You hesitate, before sharply turning on your heel. “I’ll just sit a few rows back,” you mumble.
“Oh my god, Y/N.”
Another surprised yelp leaves your lips as Jeongin pulls you out of the aisle. He tugs you by your hoodie sleeve this time, and when the group of boys walk past you, he lets his grip loosen and you feel his palm rest on your forearm again. It’s warm against your skin and you almost don’t want him to move it, but you wouldn’t dare say it out loud.
The boy glances at the seat next to him, then back at you, his eyes almost weary. “Just sit, please.”
You peer over your shoulder as the group of boys collectively take their seats in the last two rows of the bus. Sighing, you supposed that it’s far enough that you would be safe, and allow yourself to plop on the torn blue leather.
“See, it’s not so bad, is it?” Jeongin smiles at you reassuringly. “No one’s gonna talk, we’ll be fine.”
He pats your forearm twice before bringing his hand back onto his lap. You almost frown at the move.
The last of the students file in after a couple more minutes and the bus slowly pulls onto the road. Jeongin leans his head against the dirty window as he plays Doodle Jump on his phone, and you mindlessly watch him try to beat his high score. 
You don’t know how much time passed when the bus abruptly stops, but it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. The two of you are thrown forward as the driver suddenly slams the brakes, and Jeongin instinctively grabs your arm to keep you from falling. You don’t, luckily, but you do bump into him.
“Ahh, sorry!” you exclaim.
Jeongin shakes his head, as if to say it’s okay. “Are you okay?”
He gives your forearm a gentle squeeze before letting go. You follow his hand as it falls back on his lap, before meeting his gaze and nodding slightly. “Yeah–” you hesitate for a second, looking down at his hand again then back at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
You nod once, giving him a tight smile before settling down properly. That is, until you catch white flecks falling outside from the corner of your eye. It takes a second to click, but once it does, you turn to the window in a flash, eyes sparkling at the view outside.
“Jeongin,” you squeal, shaking him by the shoulder and you point to his right. “Look!”
The boy slides his phone in his pocket and a grin of his own appears as he looks out the window, seeing the snowflakes blanket the outside world for the first time this winter. Leaning past Jeongin to peer outside, your smile grows even more cheerful. All you need now is a mug of hot chocolate filled to the brim with whipped cream as you curl up on the couch and put on one of your beloved Christmas movies. Unfortunately, you wouldn’t be home for a while, so this would have to do for now.
“I’m not sure if you’ve ever noticed, but,” Jeongin starts after a minute, a chuckle escaping his lips, “the snow always starts when we’re together.”
“Really?” you question. 
He nods, his eyes focused on what seemed to be the most interesting bush in the world to him, and he smiles. “Yeah.”
You’re not sure if it was instinct or the cold that made you want to sit closer to Jeongin. You try not to think about it. 
“It's just a coincidence,” you attempt to laugh. “You can’t really predict the weather.” 
“I don’t know,” Jeongin muses, clicking his tongue. “If Jisung was here right now, he’d be losing his mind.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. “That boy lost his mind ages ago. We just spend a lot of time together, of course we’re gonna see the first snow together at least once.”
Jeongin shrugs his shoulders beside you, then it goes silent. You aren’t sure how long for, and you just quietly watch the white crystals of snow hit the glass window. 
You feel Jeongin lean into you slightly after another moment. “That reminds me…”
You hum, looking over at him.
His smile curls into a playful smirk. “Stay for Christmas?”
You gape at him with an amused grin. Jeongin? Saying the line himself, unprompted? Who was this boy in front of you? “I thought you hated that line.”
Jeongin shrugs again, a smile still playing on his lips. “Eh, it kinda grew on me.” He pauses for a moment then speaks again. “But seriously, do you want to?”
Your brain goes static for a second. “As in, stay for Christmas? Like, for real?” He nods, and you deflate, slumping in your seat. “You know they’ll just say no.”
The hopeful smile on Jeongin’s face also fades, recalling your failed attempt last year. “I know,” he said, “but maybe it’s worth another try?”
You press your lips into a thin line, keeping your gaze down as you shrug. “We can if you want.”
Once the bus pulls up at your stop, Jeongin walks you home, but not without going inside with you to find your parents. With a reassuring hand on your back, he helps you plead your case to your parents, but as you feared, they shut you down quicker than last time.
Jeongin sends you a sad smile as he heads home that day, leaving you to mentally prepare for the hell you’re about to receive from your mother the minute the door clicks shut behind him. 
16 years old.
“One, two…” your mother counts slowly as she tries her best to fit the both of you on her screen. “Get a bit closer together, guys,” she ushers you with one hand. 
You huff but follow her order, and step closer to the boy next to you. “Mom, don’t you have enough photos?”
A chuckle leaves your mom's lips as she continues to take more, now at different angles. “There’s never enough photos, sugarplum!”
Jisung snorts from beside you at the nickname and you send your elbow right into his ribs to get him to shut up.
“Y/N!” your mother scolds. “Don’t be so mean, he’s being nice and taking you! Heaven knows he didn’t need to.” 
“Mom!” you gasp in surprise.
“Yeah, sugarplum,” Jisung says mockingly, faking a pout as he looks down at you. 
You glare up at the older boy and silently hiss. You knew this would be a bad idea, but this is still better than what you were originally going to do: go to winter formal on your own. Especially since Jeongin had his own date. 
“Okay, okay,” your mother says as her gaze focuses back onto her phone. “Last ones.” 
“You have plenty,” you mutter through gritted teeth.
Your mother finally lowers her phone and slips it into her oversized cardigan pocket. “Bring her home by midnight, okay? No funny business!” She borderline-chastises Jisung, and you give her a look. She’s known Jisung for years at this point, it was almost as bad as if she lectured Jeongin himself.
Luckily for you, Jisung plays along, drawing two fingers to his brow and flicking his wrist to salute. “Yes, ma’am!”
“Okay,” you start quickly as you hastily grab Jisung’s wrist. “We gotta go, bye!” 
With that, you drag Jisung out of the door and to his car before your mother can get another word in.
“Whoa there, sugarplum, calm down,” Jisung sings, “we have all the time in the world.”
“Would you let that nickname go, please?” you groan. 
Jisung unlocks his car as he walks around to the driver's seat, laughing loudly. “Never, baby.” With the car open, he stares at you and taps his temple. “That puppy is locked into the memory banks for life.” 
You roll your eyes for the nth time, open the door, and let it slam behind you as you plop onto your seat with crossed arms, Jisung’s laughter filling your ears as he follows your actions. Igniting the engine, he turns the heaters to full blast and rubs his hands together to try and gain some heat. 
“You good?” you ask, watching him blow hot air onto his hands. 
He hums and nods his head, and turns the heaters down shortly after. “I like the car to be toasty, okay? I want to feel like a marshmallow.” 
“...A marshmallow?” 
Jisung nods again affirmingly. “A marshmallow.” 
“I don’t even want to know,” you shake your head in amazement and look away from him. 
“We’re picking Innie up first, right?” Jisung asks, his attention now on the road as he backs the car out of your driveway.
“Yeah,” you hum. “His date is meeting him there.” 
After that it goes silent, partly because Jisung needs his full attention to drive, but also because there just isn’t much to say. You’re surprised Jisung hasn’t taken this time alone with you to grill and interrogate you, but maybe he had turned over a new leaf, changed his ways.
It seems more likely, however, that you just thought too highly of him, especially when he asks you about it in the next moment.
“So, how do you feel about Jeongin having his own date?” 
You turn your head to look at him. “Don’t you have the road to focus on?”
“Don’t deflect, baby,” he hums. “You can’t answer a question with a question.” 
“You can’t answer a question with a question,” you mimic, tightening your arms around your chest. 
“Now you’re just being obnoxious,” he says, which causes you to whine and throw your head back.
“Why are you even asking me? It’s fine, so what if he has his own date? I don’t care.” 
“Kinda seems like you do,” Jisung sings. 
“I don’t,” you spit back a second too quickly. 
“Look at my face.” Jisung takes one hand, motions around his face, and sends a look towards you before focusing back on the road. “Does this face look like one that would believe your bullshit?” 
“Your face looks dumb and like you’d believe any type of bullshit,” you mutter, your arms still crossed. 
“Now, I know you’re only saying that because you’re annoyed at me for pointing out the obvious.” Jisung laughs. “It's okay, I forgive you and I know I’m the most handsome guy you’ve ever laid your eyes on.” 
“You need to get your ego checked.”
Pulling up at the corner of Jeongin’s street, Jisung places the car in park. “The things I do for this friendship,” he sighs dramatically as he pulls out his phone to text Jeongin.
You shake your head, keeping your gaze out the window. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I think you misspelled the word ‘genius’, sugarplum.”
You side-eye the older boy, whose smug smile is illuminated by the light emitting from his phone. “I wasn’t spelling anything.”
“Misspoke, then.” Jisung locks his phone and looks at you innocently. “Same thing. Jeongin’s on his way.” 
“Not the same thing,” you mumble before you nod your head. “Okay, but how is he going to sneak out in a suit?” 
The sudden thought came to your mind. Jeongin had family come in from out of town for this large family party, which admittedly, he didn’t want to be there for. However, his family would definitely notice if he just walked out of the house in a tux. 
“That's where my genius comes in,” Jisung smirks and points to the back seat. “Emergency tux.” 
You look back and there is, in fact, a tuxedo folded neatly on the middle seat along with a belt to match, ready for Jeongin to wear for the formal. You stare at it for a moment too long before your gaze settles on Jisung. “What emergency is there where you need a tux?” 
The older boy shrugs and makes a face. “A fancy one?” 
You blink as you look at him, but you couldn’t stop the side of your lips turning up into a smile. “I really don’t get you sometimes.” 
His confident grin makes your own grow wider. He leans forward slightly and ruffles your hair with one hand, causing you to groan before flipping down the sun visor and looking in the tiny mirror on the back of it as you try to fix it.
Jisung laughs as he watches you. “It's okay, you can say how amazing I am and how much you love me, you don’t have to pretend.” 
Whilst fixing your hair in the mirror, your mouth twists into a disgusted frown and you send him a glare. “I repeat what I said earlier, you need your ego checked.” 
“You’ll admit it one day,” he jokes.
You close the visor back up. “Not gonna happen.” 
Before Jisung has the chance to say anything else, the right back door opens up. Jeongin throws himself in and sighs contentedly at the warmth that surrounds him. After a moment, he opens his eyes and smiles at the both of you sitting in the front. “Hey, guys!” 
“Hi,” you smile. 
Jisung smiles too and points to the suit behind him, which makes Jeongin clap his hands in delight. “Emergency tux?” he says.
Jisung clicks his tongue, sending a wink and a finger gun the younger boy’s way. “Emergency tux, baby.” 
With furrowed eyebrows, you blink at the boys. “What is it with you and emergency tuxes? Seriously, what would you even need an emergency tux for?” 
“A fancy emergency,” Jeongin answers matter-of-factly, which causes Jisung to point at him and nod.
“See, he gets it!” he agrees. “Hey, without that emergency tux, Innie would be going in sweats to the formal. Wouldn’t want that, now, would we?” 
You roll your eyes and look away from them. “Guess not.” 
“See, Y/N?” Jisung reaches over to ruffle your hair again, and you successfully duck your head away this time. He chuckles and draws his hand back, shifting the gear to drive and bringing his attention back to the road. “There's a method to my madness.”
You just huff, slumping back in your seat in defeat as he turned the car around. 
“Wait,” Jeongin pipes up as Jisung straightens out the wheel, “how am I supposed to change?”
“As I said, there’s a method to my madness.,” Jisung says, perhaps a bit too confidently as he pulls out of the street. “Just give me a minute.”
You narrow your eyes at Jisung, who keeps a straight face as he drives. You almost hate it more than his smug smile from a few minutes ago. At least then, you had the slightest clue to what he was thinking. The fact that the car is silent, save for the quiet Christmas music on the radio, does nothing to calm your worries.
Unfortunately, it looks like your gut feeling was right as you realize Jisung is pulling into a stop just right outside your neighborhood. 
“Here you go,” Jisung announces proudly, placing the car in park again. “Changing time!”
Your eyes bulging out of your head, you snap your head to Jisung. “Are you insane?!” you hiss. “We’re in public!”
The older—but you were very hesitant to say wiser—boy shrugs. “He’s gotta do it somewhere! It’s either here or the school parking lot.”
“You didn’t think about a gas station?!”
“Guys, it’s fine,” Jeongin says, his voice wavering slightly as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “Just... just don’t look, please.”
You cover the sides of your eyes as you keep your gaze out the window. Every now and then, you hear Jeongin hit something in the back, causing him to groan in pain and Jisung to holler at his misery. 
This goes on for almost a minute before you hear the gear shift click. Keeping your hands around the sides of your eyes, you glower at Jisung, who smirks deviously as he pulls the lever to drive. “Don’t. You. Dare,” you grumble.
“Oh, watch me,” Jisung snickers, tapping his foot on the gas.
“Hey! I’m not done yet!” Jeongin shouts as the car inches forward, sending Jisung into another fit of laughter.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!”
Jisung abruptly hits the brake, causing Jeongin to shriek as he thuds against the back of your seat. The older boy lets out another cackle at this, clapping his hands as he throws his head back. He glances at you in hopes that you’re just as amused, but you only glare at him.
He lets out a drawn-out but satisfied sigh, and puts the car in park again. “Ahhh, that was fun.” 
You stay silent, maintaining your pointed stare.
“Chillax, Y/N.” He nudges your shoulder, but remains overly cheerful even though you don't budge. “Ooh, look! Snow!“
You blink. As tempting as it is to take your eyes off of him, something in your gut begs you not to.
“I’m serious!” Jisung cries again, pointing fervently in front of him. 
You sigh and turn your head slightly. At least he wasn’t lying about the snow, although it does seem lighter this year. A few snowflakes trickle down here and there, but it’s nowhere near enough to obstruct the view outside. And it definitely isn’t enough to keep Jisung from starting and stopping the car one more time, sending Jeongin crashing into the back of your seat again and proving your worries correct.
“I’m gonna kill you,” the younger boy scowls, and you lean over to flick the older one on the forehead.
“Agh!” Jisung slaps your hand away, stifling a giggle. “Okay, okay! I'm done now!”
“You better be,” Jeongin grumbles. 
After a few minutes, he gasps. “Done,” he says, and you drop your hands from either side of your eyes. 
You look in the rearview mirror, Jeongin in full view as he adjusts his tie. Sure, the suit was a size too big, and the jacket almost slipped off the ends of his shoulders, but he somehow seemed to make it work. You couldn’t explain how, it just has this charm that perfectly complements the sweet but awkward boy you’ve grown so fond of. It’s so incredibly Jeongin, and it makes you smile like a dope.
But as he runs his hands through his hair, in desperate attempts to fix it, you feel your breath hitch in your throat. That… was new. And different. By now, one would look away, but for some reason, you can’t.
That is, however, when you notice Jisung’s eyes are locked on you, his eyebrows ever-so-slightly raised in amusement. You look down at your hands as you feel your cheeks get hot. Now that was another thing you’d have to explain to the older fool. Great.
Snow continues to fall from the sky as Jisung resumes the drive to school, but it never goes past a light sprinkle. It wasn’t even enough to coat the ground in that fluffy, white blanket you had grown accustomed to in the last few years. Every so often, the older boy glances over at you, catching you lingering at the rearview mirror as Jeongin uses his phone camera to fix his hair. It only makes you sink lower and lower into your chair, and you resort to keeping your eyes on your lap for the rest of the ride.
You don’t look up again until you feel the car stop and hear the gear shift click back into park.
“We’re here,” Jisung announces in a singsong voice.
“I can tell,” you grumble, recognizing the dimly lit courtyard in front of you.
“There she is!” Jeongin seems to have spotted his date and he squeaks, checking himself in the rearview mirror one last time. “Do I look okay?” he asks, a hopeful smile on his face.
You both turn back to look at him. You open your mouth to speak but can’t get anything out, and you find yourself stupidly staring at him again.
“You look great, Jeongin.” Jisung smiles over his shoulder. He glances at you for a second, flashing his eyebrows at you, and you turn back around in embarrassment. “Now gooo, she”s waiting!” He winks at the younger boy, ushering him out of the car.
Jeongin chuckles, smoothing out his oversized suit once more before he leaves. You keep your gaze out the windshield the whole time, staring at nothing in particular, but you notice that the snow stops entirely once Jeongin wraps his arms around his date and escorts her inside.
You feel your breath get caught in your throat again. “We–” you start, then pause to clear your throat. “Yeah, we should get going, too.” 
Keeping your eyes locked in place, you blindly reach down to unbuckle your seatbelt. You’ve never felt more suffocated in a vehicle in your life and everything inside you was screaming at you to get out.
But Jisung, ever-persistent, seemed to be working against you all evening. He reaches over, gently grabbing your arm before you can touch the door handle. “Uh, uh, uh, you’re not going anywhere.”
You silently groan in your mind as you turn to face him with a sour look. “What do you want?” 
His mouth curls up into a smirk. “What was that just now?” 
“What was what just now?”
You tilt your head, your eyebrows furrowed with your lips pursed together. No matter how hard you try to keep a straight face, it only seems to egg him on more. 
“You know what I’m talking about.” Jisung nudges you repeatedly, his smirk growing wider. “That whole staring at Innie thing! It’s almost like you just realized how in love you are with him.” 
A scoff escapes your lips almost instantly. Seeing Jeongin in that suit was… an experience, to say the least, but to go as far as to say you were in love with him?
That said, it doesn’t surprise you that this all came from the guy who genuinely believed his crush would ask him out at midnight if he made a wish and forwarded a poorly-formatted copypasta to seventeen people. Bless his heart, but you’re smarter than that.
Really, you couldn’t pinpoint what sucked the breath out of your lungs when you laid eyes on Jeongin in the rearview mirror. All you could caulk it up to was some ill-timed coming-of-age epiphany: you two were sixteen now, and you could do things the sixteen-year-olds in movies do all the time. It’s a strange pill to swallow, but unlike Jeongin, it didn’t even occur to you that you could’ve asked someone out to winter formal. Everyone else your age seemed to jump at the chance, but a small part of you figured you and Jeongin would’ve gone together—as friends, of course.
Of course, you know Jisung wouldn’t buy that answer, so you had to think of something else. Something more his style.
“That’s— that’s not what happened.” You take a breath then wave him off with your hand as you continue. “It's just the tuxedo effect, it’ll be gone in the morning.”
You turn to get out of the car (again), hoping Jisung would leave it at that, but he leans over (again), grabbing your hand this time. 
“No, no, no, sugarplum, you aren’t getting away that easily.”
You want to scream. Praying for the earth to swallow you whole sounds good, too. Anything over facing Jisung, whose eyebrows are raised as he nosily rests his chin on his palm.
“Spill.” 
You lightly push him away from you as you sigh. “What is there to spill? It’s…” You pause, before continuing in a rushed mumble. “It's when you find someone attractive because of the fact that they’re wearing a suit.” 
Jisung blinks a number of times before he bursts into laughter.
“That’s so bullshit! Finding someone attractive just because they’re wearing a suit?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “That's insane.” 
“Oh, so magical snow makes complete sense, but finding someone attractive because of a suit doesn’t?” 
“It’s not magical snow, it’s fate and romance all twisted into one!” 
“Whatever, you’re hopeless.” You throw your hands up in defeat. “My point still stands: it’ll be gone by tomorrow.” 
The main doors capture your attention and your eyes linger on it as multiple other students filter in and out of the formal. Your shoulders tighten and an unexplainable uneasy feeling makes a home for itself in your chest. 
“I thought this was what you wanted…” Jisung starts, his gaze following yours, “for people to not think you guys were dating.” 
“It’s not that,” you respond quietly. 
“Then what is it?” he asks, matching your tone.
“It’s just…” you begin. “It’s weird to think he’s at the age where he’s actually thinking about liking someone and dating people.” 
“But you know what that means?” Jisung asks, prompting you to break your staring contest with the school doors and look at him. “It also means you’re old enough to do the same thing: date and move on.” 
You scoff, open the car door, and put one foot out, ready to leave. “I don’t know what you’re on about, shut up.” You get up and let the door swing closed behind you. 
Jisung quickly follows suit and makes his way around the front of his car and over to you. He places one hand on one of your shoulders, as the other delicately moves some of the hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. 
“I’ll stop bothering you about this, yeah?” he says, his voice more gentle than teasing this time. You could count the number of times he’s spoken to you like this on one hand. “At least, I’ll stop for now. And if Jeongin won’t tell you, then I will—you look absolutely beautiful.” 
Gently lifting your chin with two fingers, Jisung leans over and places a light kiss upon your forehead. You swear that for a minute, your heart stopped beating. Even with all of the overly sweet nicknames and the babying, Jisung had never gone so far as to do something so physically affectionate with you as this. However, you like it. You like it a lot more than you thought you would. 
His lips linger there for a moment longer before he pulls away with a smile. “You’re more than capable of going after what you want. But don’t let him cloud your judgment tonight. Have fun, make memories.”
The older boy steps back from you, but offers an arm for you to take. Once you do, he leans in slightly and chuckles. “And try not to let this so-called tuxedo effect get to you too much,” Jisung adds as an afterthought. “You might fall in love with me by the end of the night.”
Using the arm linked around his, you deliver a light smack to his chest.
“In your dreams, asshole.”
Spending the night with Jisung as your quote-unquote “date” was more of a blast than you thought it would be. From the flavorful fruit punch and the obviously bulk-bought snacks, it truly was a night to remember. 
You made sure to catch plenty of Jisung’s dad-dancing on your phone—for blackmail purposes, of course. And when it got to that normally awkward slow dance section of the night, Jisung did what he did best and made it anything but that. Sure, you stood on his toes once or twice, but he didn’t complain, at least verbally, and all-in-all, the night seemed to be a success.
From the few glances you stole during the night, Jeongin also seemed to enjoy his time with his date. The feverish look he had in his eyes when he hopped in the back of Jisung’s car paired with the hint of lipstick on his cheek confirmed it for you. You decide not to dwell too much on it, taking Jisung’s advice, and just hand Jeongin a makeup wipe before he could stroll home with crystal clear evidence on his face that he was ever gone.
The car might as well have been a fridge as you’re sitting there, hands rubbing together so quickly you could start a fire in your attempt to gain warmth. Jisung had started the car already, but his heaters are taking much longer to kick in compared to earlier. Jeongin, now laid out across the back seat, gushes about how the night was and how breathtaking his date seemed to be in her off-white dress. (You don’t know who would wear white to a school dance, but you try your best not to judge.) 
His rambles, however, are soon cut short by Jisung, who looks at him through his rearview mirror. “Sorry, buddy, but you need to change before you get home, remember?” 
Jeongin huffs as he pulls himself up into a sitting position and nods his head. He looks at you, to Jisung, back to you, then Jisung again. “You’re not going to do that stop-start thing again, are you?” 
“Nah.” Jisung waves him off with one hand. “Wouldn’t be as funny the second time. Plus, I feel like sugarplum here would kill me.” 
Jeongin’s eyebrows furrow together slightly. “‘Sugarplum?’” 
“Don’t ask,” you say hollowly, and send Jisung a stern look to not answer Jeongin either. But in all honesty, if ‘sugarplum’ was the main thing the older boy took from tonight, you’d be completely fine with that.
“Just hurry up and change, nimrod,” Jisung says as he once again looks in the mirror.
You stare at him blankly. “What the heck is this? The eighties?” 
“Just say you’re jealous and go, okay, sugarplum?” Jisung makes a face, and you throw your hands up dismissively. 
“Did someone spike the punch?” Jeongin asks. “You’re both acting weird tonight.” Every now and then, you hear bumps and noises as he attempts to get back into his sweats in an orderly fashion. 
“We’re not being weird,” you respond flatly, your eyes locked on a shallow puddle on the sidewalk from the snowfall, if you could even call it that. You try your best to change the subject and keep Jeongin from questioning you more. “Are you done yet? Can we go?” 
With one last grunt, Jeongin succeeds in getting his head through the hole of his sweatshirt. “Yep, you can drive, Jisung.” 
That was enough for Jisung to pull the car into drive and to get on the way. 
You drum your fingers against the dashboard as Jisung drives, using everything in you to not pluck off the acrylic nails that took you an hour to stick on. You’re pleasantly surprised with how little this whole operation had gone wrong, and you could only hope that the rest of the trip would stay this way.
You don’t even allow yourself to relax into your chair until you three pull to the corner of Jeongin’s street for the second time. Jisung nearly laughs at you for this, but you quickly silence him with another smack to the chest.
“Owie! Looks like sugarplum’s feisty tonight,” Jisung cries, flashing you a fake frown.
You wince at the nickname and turn around, ignoring him. “Jeongin, do you have everything?”
Jeongin haphazardly tosses the bunched-up tuxedo on the seat beside him as he nods. He slides across the back seat and reaches for the door handle before you stop him in his tracks. 
“Wait.” You lean over the back seat and quickly wipe at his cheek, and he attempts to back away. “You missed a bit of lipstick, idiot,” you state flatly, ignoring the sudden heat you feel creeping up your neck. “You’re basically asking to get caught.” 
Jisung sits and stares as he watches you wipe away the little remnants of lipstick on Jeongin’s cheek, and he doesn’t fail to notice the way the tips of Jeongin’s ears turn a subtle pink color at your touch. 
“Ah,” Jeongin chuckles awkwardly, “thanks.”
It is when Jeongin exits the vehicle that you finally take a closer look at what he was wearing. He wasn’t just wearing any sweatshirt—it was purple. Suddenly you remember your plight from earlier and your breath catches in your throat for the third time tonight.
“Wait, Y/N.” You hear Jeongin knock on your window, snapping you out of your daze. 
You turn over and lower the glass, Jisung snickering under his breath all the while. “Yeah?”
A stupid grin comes over Jeongin’s face as he utters his next words.
“Stay for Christmas?”
You scoff and suppress a laugh. Maybe if he wasn’t still on a high from the formal, you would've considered asking your parents again this year. But what’s the point if they’ll just say no?
“Not a chance, now go home.”
After making sure Jeongin climbed into his bedroom window, Jisung turns the car around and takes you home. As he pulls into your driveway, you quickly notice how all of the lights are off in your house, minus the porch light. You let out a sigh of relief—your parents must be asleep. 
You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to Jisung with a smile. “Thank you, Jisung,” you hum. “Tonight was fun.” 
“That's alright, sugarplum, glad to be of service,” he shoots you a toothy grin and salutes. 
You once again wince at the nickname, but decide to let it go this time. You quickly lean across the dashboard and place a kiss on Jisung’s cheek. “And thank you for what you said earlier, it meant a lot.” 
Jisung chuckles as you pull away. “You’re not falling for me, now, are you?” he quips.
“Don’t ruin the moment.” You slap him on the arm, and pause for a moment before opening the car door. “Just, thank you for tonight, seriously.” 
“Y/N, it’s fine, I had fun too.” Jisung smiles. “Just make sure to get inside, it’s cold.” 
You smile back and hum once more. Shutting the car door behind you, you rush your way up to your front porch before turning back to Jisung with a final wave. Then, you’re met with warmth, welcoming you after a long trip away as you get ready for bed.
The next morning, however, you’re greeted by two very angry parents.
By the time you got home last night, both your parents were already asleep, so you thought you had successfully gotten away with everything. Even if they were awake, they had no way to know what you did. But it turns out Jeongin’s cousin, Jungwon, caught him sneaking in and immediately snitched to his parents, who, in turn, texted yours, and probably Jisung’s as well.
Let's just say that you are now grounded well into the new year. No going out for a whole month, except maybe the Christmas party next week, if your parents are feeling generous.
You know it’s going to suck being confined to your house for the entirety of winter break, but you suppose that’s the price you pay for being a loyal best friend. If anyone was going to help Jeongin sneak out to a school dance, it’s you—even if you wouldn’t be the one to go with him in the end.
You’d do it again in a heartbeat.
17 years old.
“Can I open my eyes now?” you whine.
“Nooo,” Jeongin drones from behind you, “just be patient. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
You sigh impatiently as he guides you by the shoulders to… somewhere. The December cold swirls around you, biting at your cheeks as you attempt to swivel your head and look around. You don’t know why you even bothered trying, though, as Jeongin had tied a black cloth over your eyes before he drove you off to this mystery location. 
Despite this, he still instructed you to keep your eyes shut. It felt excessive, but you obliged to make him happy.
“Fine, but do I really need the blindfold?” You bend your head up and over, looking to your best guess as to where Jeongin is. You can feel his hands on your shoulders, so wherever you’re staring couldn’t have been far off.
“Yes— well, not really.” Jeongin laughs sheepishly and he helps you onto what you assume is a crosswalk. “It was Jisung’s idea.”
You snort, shaking your head to yourself as you try your best to walk in a straight line. “Of course it was.”
Upbeat chatter and Christmas music dances around your ears as you near the still-unknown location. You can’t see a thing, but you can already feel the aura of holiday cheer everywhere around you, just waiting to sweep you off your feet. It is just a week shy of Christmas, after all.
Soon Jeongin comes to a stopping point, and you feel his hands leave your shoulders. “Can I take off the blindfold now?” you frown, bouncing on the balls of your feet.
“Yah, just wait!” Jeongin scolds, but you hear a light chuckle quickly follow. “Patience, Y/N.”
You feel his fingers gently graze your hair after a moment, finding its way to the knot on the back of your head. He gets it undone quickly, but holds the cloth around your head as he counts down.
“Three… two… one…” he says softly, slowly removing the blindfold from your eyes and unveiling the scene in front of you.
The glinting lights make you wince for a moment before your eyes get used to the new sudden brightness. You gasp at the sight in front of you, almost jumping out of your shoes in joy. Thousands of Christmas lights are hung up around trees, swirled around lamp posts, and hung overhead for people to walk under. It is breathtaking, truly breathtaking. 
You spin around to face Jeongin in an instant. His smile almost puts the lights out of business. “You brought me to the lights?” 
“No, I brought you to the desert.” The boy rolls his eyes, his words coated with sarcasm—but still, he smiles. “Yes, I brought you to the lights, dummy.” 
His warmth soon overtakes yours as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in close. He freezes for a moment, but soon lets his arms wrap around your waist. He squeezes you tight one final time before he pulls away, looking at you with a tender smile. 
“We should go, don’t want to miss out on the lights, do you?” 
You aren’t sure if he meant to grab your hand as he drags you away, but you don’t do anything to let go, either. You just stare down at your enjoined hands as you follow him, the background noise blurring away into nothing, overtaken by your heartbeat ringing in your ears. 
Minutes seem to tick by before you can bring yourself to look up again. Your gaze lands on the back of Jeongin’s head, and it only seems to intensify when he swiftly turns his head. Something about the way his hair flowed with the quick action almost makes you dizzy, and you have to look back down to shake yourself out of it. 
You finally have the courage to let your eyes trail back up again a moment later. Immediately, something in the air feels different. Jeongin had turned back to check on you, and a cluster of yellow and white lights seemed to give him a halo-like ring above his head. The music and chatter blurs around you once again, fading into a quiet buzz as your body stiffens and you nearly lose your breath. It’s like you’re the main character of one of those animes Jeongin tried to get you to watch, like the one where the boy and the girl stumble upon a field of fireflies together in the middle of the night. Here you two are, a mere speck amongst the thousands of lights, yet the boy in front of you seems to shine brighter than them all.
It’s strange to think about. You are here for the Christmas lights—no, Jeongin brought you here for the Christmas lights—but all you can focus on is him.
“Are you okay?”
The three words and a light squeeze of your hand pull you back down to earth. You didn’t realize Jeongin stepped closer to you, and you feel yourself exhale shakily, your hand slowly slipping from his grasp.
You stare back with wide eyes, and something inside you compels you to step closer to him. “Y-Yeah,” is all you manage to get out.
The colorful lights seem to flicker as you look around. For a second, they do feel like little fireflies, floating around you as they emit their warmth. And when your gaze lands back on the boy in front of you, the warmth seems to encircle you even more. You nearly forget about the cold nipping at your cheeks, and a rosy glow fills them instead. 
“It’s just… I…”
As your eyes meet Jeongin’s once again, you can’t help but notice a slight redness in his cheeks as well.  His lips curve upward slightly, and he gently takes your hands in his.
“I know. It’s beautiful.”
You smile up at Jeongin and notice something moving behind him. You squint, looking past his ear, and find those all-too-familiar fluffy crystals fluttering down. Immediately, your jaw drops and your smile grows wider. 
“Jeongin, look!” You let go of one of his hands and point to the snow surrounding you. 
The scene unfolding around you leaves you awestruck. The colors from the lights bounce off the falling snowflakes, and the music seems to chime more vividly as the snow whisks around, making everything feel brighter and more alive. You feel like your head is spinning as you swivel around, sparkles in your eyes that could rival the spectacle in front of you.
A shaky breath leaves your lips as you take one more step towards Jeongin. Your hands slowly find their way up his shoulders and around his neck, and you let his body heat swaddle you, wrapping you up in a wintry glow as you take it all in. It truly feels like you’re in a dream.
Jeongin follows your gaze and chuckles, a fond smile on his face as he gently pulls you closer. “Yes, Y/N, I know what snow is. Is snow bad?”
You look at him again, your wide, shimmering eyes meeting his warm ones. In that moment, nothing else mattered: just you, the snow, and the boy in front of you.
“It's perfect.”
And like the blonde girl in the firefly scene, you’d give anything for the moment to last forever.
“Where were you?”
Your mother’s words nearly make you jump out of your skin the second you step in the house, and you hiss to yourself. Your time with Jeongin at the light festival had swept you off your feet so much that you forgot you weren’t even supposed to be there.
After the events from last year, your parents had grounded you for a whole month, effectively barring you from even stepping foot outside of the house unless it was to school and back. Even worse, they grew so concerned about your so-called “excessive time with this boy” that they placed a strict curfew on you once your grounding sentence was lifted. No seeing friends—read: no seeing Jeongin—after 8pm, lest unspeakable things happen to you. It was ridiculous, not only because you’re seventeen, but because, somehow, your best friend since you were nine was now this supposed threat.
The only way you had been able to skirt around this was to lie, usually about studying at a coffee shop with an unnamed friend. You can’t remember what excuse you gave this time, but at this point, it didn’t matter much.
Your mother crosses her arms, a look of disapproval etched on her features. “Where were you, really? And don’t say the school library this time.”
You curse to yourself, your mistake dawning on you. Why'd you pick a Saturday night to say you were meeting up with some friends at the school library? Did your excitement over Jeongin and his ‘mystery surprise’ really mess with your head that much? It couldn’t have been him… could it?
After a minute, you conclude that you just slipped up after exhausting your list of excuses over the course of the year. It was bound to happen.
“Well?” your mother says expectantly.
You just sigh, throwing up your hands in defeat. “I was with Jeongin.” 
Your eyes flick up, waiting for her next frustrated ramble about how you’ve been spending too much time with him. Instead, you get a throaty chuckle as she shakes her head at you, a smirk taking the place of her frown.
“Of course you were.”
Blinking, you stare at her in shock. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing! It means nothing.” She turns around, busying herself with wiping some crumbs off the dining table. However, after closer inspection, you see that the table is spotless.
“No, it means something,” you protest. What happened to all her complaints about how much time you’ve spent with Jeongin? Why the sudden change of heart?
“I didn’t say anything, sweetheart,” your mom says. “But did he?”
“Did he what?”
“You know, the three words,” she looks up, sending you a wink and imitating Jeongin, “‘Stay for Christmas?’” 
Mortified, you feel heat rush up to your ears as your mother lets out another laugh. “Mom!”
You refuse to admit it to her, but you actually said it first this year.
It was just half an hour ago. Jeongin walked you to your car, a gentle hand on the small of your back as he followed you down his driveway. He wrapped you up in a strong embrace before you could even unlock your car, and you looped your arms around his neck in return, smiling into his shoulder.
The hug was sweet—Jeongin’s hugs, which seemed to increase in frequency lately, always were. But he held you for a second longer than normal in this one, and when you tried to let go, he let out a small whine and held you closer to him for one more moment. The move took you by surprise, but you hugged him back nonetheless.
You let your eyes flutter shut as you melted into his hold, letting your head fall against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat could’ve lulled you to sleep if you let it, and the light snowfall twirling around you two certainly didn’t help matters. Gradually, you relaxed your arms, letting them hang loosely around his neck, and you let out a contented sigh. You truly never felt more at peace.
Maybe it was safe to say something in the air shifted while you were wrapped up in each other’s arms. Usually, he’d give you a fond chuckle and a curt pat on the back right before he pulled away and took off. But when the two of you finally let go, you opened your eyes to find him smiling down at you. Something akin to affection swam in his soft irises as he slowly pulled back, his hands gently resting on your waist. It was… different, for sure, especially coming from him. 
You smiled back warmly, linking your hands together behind his neck. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jeongin nodded his head, an adoring smile still tugging at his lips. “Just… got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”
Something seemed to swirl in his features that you couldn’t quite pick up. You registered the return of the light pink on his cheeks and the tips of his ears as you stood under the streetlight together, but nothing else. It was probably just the cold that stirred this up, so you decided not to ask.
You could only stare back at him as you tried to think of something else to say. Something about the position you two were in—arms wrapped around each other under the moonlight—felt too close to lovers in the movies. You couldn’t explain why, but it made your brain go static. And in your attempt to relieve the tension, you gulped once and spat out the first stupid one-liner that came to mind.
“By any chance, are any of those things ‘Stay for Christmas’?”
Of course it had to be that.
Jeongin let out a light scoff, rolling his eyes playfully as he dropped his hands from your waist. You giggled at his disappointment, but you instantly missed the warmth that radiated from him. Luckily, you had half a mind not to say that out loud.
“Okay, moment over,” he mumbled, gently pushing you towards your car. “Get home safe, Y/N.”
“I’m just kidding!” your mother cries in exasperation, bringing your focus back to her. “I know I can’t stop you from seeing him. He is your,” she pauses to make air quotes, “‘best friend’, after all.”
You narrow your eyes at her. “He’s my best friend. No air quotes needed.”
Your mother nods, clearly not believing you. “Right… for now.”
Feeling more blood rush to your face, you roll your eyes and unceremoniously march upstairs. “Goodnight, mom.”
She’s crazy, right? Absolutely. You know yourself and you know your friendships better than anyone. You and Jeongin are best friends for a reason—nothing more, and certainly nothing less. The way you felt like you were on cloud nine just hours ago? It was a one-time thing, you were just fascinated by the lights.
Jeongin had nothing to do with it.
18 years old.
Your scarf is wrapped tightly around your neck and face in attempts to shield yourself from the cold. You jump on the balls of your feet in place as you wait for one of the Yang family to open the door and invite you into the familiar warmth. It’s pretty much tradition at this point to spend at least part of Christmas Eve with the Yangs, but they’re hosting the Christmas party this year so it’s just another reason to stop by.
Shoving your hands into your coat pockets, your eyes brighten when you see movement through the front door window. Soon enough, Mrs Yang opens up the door with a smile of her own. 
"Y/N!" She sings, ushering you in before she pulls you into a hug. "I think Jeongin's still asleep, so you can do those honors?" She chuckles. 
You pull away, slip off your coat and scarf, and hang them up before you rush up the stairs. "Leave it to me, Mrs. Yang!" 
Once you’re up the top of the stairs, you creep down the hallway and knock on the door. When you get no response, you just let yourself in.
The scene in front of you is something you expect, but it brings a fond smile to your face nonetheless. Jeongin is spread out across his bed, his blanket bunched up around his chin. His hair is all fluffy from a good night’s sleep and his face looks peaceful as he snores lightly, like nothing in the world could ever hurt him. 
Going over to his bed, you let yourself fall onto it and your head rest on the pillow next to him. Examining his face, you notice how his eyelashes lay against his cheeks and how his lips part slightly as he breathes.
"I can feel you staring at me," Jeongin says, his eyes still closed.
You clutch your chest in surprise as you roll onto your back. "Oh my god, why do you have to scare me like that?” you cry, staring at the ceiling. "You could have said you were awake." 
"But then you wouldn't get your chance to admire me," he chuckles as he finally opens his eyes. 
"Shut up, no I wasn't!" 
"I don't know, your stare felt pretty heavy to me."
You glare at him, flying up and off of his bed before ripping the blanket off of him.
"Y/N! What the hell?!" Jeongin gasps, shooting up so he’s sitting. "What if I was naked?!" 
"I know you too well, you don't sleep naked." You bend down to stare at him. "You'd be too scared to sleep naked," you add as you throw his blanket back onto his bed. 
Jeongin rolls his eyes, grabbing the blanket before he wraps it around himself like a burrito. "What are you doing here anyway?" he mumbles. He runs one hand through his hair in an attempt to tame it, but all it really did was make it even more fluffy. Something about it makes your heart quicken its pace. 
"Don't you remember what day it is?"
Jeongin blinks slowly, his tiredness showing. "Friday?" 
You groan, sitting down on his bed again before quickly grabbing his pillow to hit him with it. "It's the Christmas," hit, "party,” another hit, “you idiot!"
You attempt to hit him again, but he catches the pillow with his hands and pulls it away from you. 
This only causes you to stumble into him, also making Jeongin fall back in the process. A gasp escapes your lips and you use your hand to stop yourself from head-butting the groggy boy. You blink quickly, his eyes gazing into your own. His nose brushes up against yours ever-so-slightly, and you clear your throat, your cheeks flushing. 
"This is your fault,” you attempt to joke. 
"Me?!" Jeongin scoffs. "You hit me first!" Mimicking his words silently, you roll your eyes. "Uh, but can you move, you're a bit heavy." 
Your eyes widen and you scoot away with lightning speed. "Sorry.” You blink, staring down to play with your fingers in your lap. 
"By the way," Jeongin says, "I didn't forget today was the Christmas party."
“Well, that’s why I’m here early, to help out,” you mutter, your face still down. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Jeongin gets off of his bed, goes over to his drawers and pulls out the first shirt he finds before pulling his pajama top over his head. You jump and turn in the opposite direction, your cheeks fully flushed.
“Jeongin!” you whine, holding the backs of your hands to your cheeks in an attempt to cool them down. “You could have warned me or told me to leave.” 
“Aww, you blushing?” Jeongin snickers. “Never seen a boy undress before?” 
Without looking back at him, you try your best to chuck his pillow in his direction. You hear it thump against the wall instead.
“You missed~” Jeongin sings, which makes you scoff.
“And I wasn’t blushing, asshole, just didn’t want to get scarred for life.”
Of course you’re blushing. Especially when he nonchalantly stood and started to strip off his top. And of course you had seen men undress before… in the movies. But there’s no way you’d utter a word of it to Jeongin, not when it would send his already-soaring ego to new heights. 
“We both know that your life would actually be improved,” Jeongin chuckles to himself.
He walks across his room and when he comes into your peripheral, you instantly move to cover your eyes. It doesn’t help your reddening cheeks when the sound of Jeongin’s laughter rings out louder.
You feel his fingers wrap themselves around your wrists as you try to fight him from pulling them away from your face. “I’m dressed, idiot, stop being so shy.” 
“Stop making fun of me!” you cry and he guides your hands away from your face. 
Your eyes meet his and you notice the cheeky smile playing at his lips, which only turns yours into a pout. You only wish he’ll soon forget about this and move on to something different to make fun of you with. However, when you note the playful twinkle in his eyes, you know your prayers won’t be answered. 
“Look, you’re blushing so hard!” He continues to smirk. 
“I told you, I’m not blushing!” 
You attempt to hit him, but with his fingers still wrapped around your wrists, you fail to do so. His grin seems to only grow wider as you roll your eyes and try to pull your wrists from his grasp. 
“By the way, Jisung said he was going to stop by later for the party,” you mention.  Jeongin’s smile seems to drop slightly at the sound of the older boy’s name. 
“Why? He doesn’t live in the neighborhood.” 
You shrug as you look at Jeongin with a blank expression. “How am I meant to know how Jisung’s brain works? He's in a world of his own.” 
Jeongin hums, his gaze dropping to the floor. 
“But in all seriousness,” you start, “he said something about missing us, and that, like, his college just isn’t the same without us?” you suggest. “Also, there was something about this girl he really likes and magic snow and shit,” you add, which causes Jeongin to snort.
“Did he actually say this or you making it up?” 
“It’s more like reading between the lines, if you will,” you giggle. 
“So he didn’t say shit, you’re just making it up as you go along.”
Jeongin crosses his arms over his chest as he stares at you, waiting for you to formulate your next response. But when the only one he gets is you playfully hitting his arm, he rolls his eyes for the nth time. 
“Don’t we have to help set up the party or something? Or a movie to watch?” 
“Right, yeah. We should do that.”
Jeongin laughs and as soon as he grabs your hand, flashbacks instantly flare up in your mind from the year before, of the Christmas lights he took you to see—of the way he seemed to shine under them all. You make sure to wish again that he won’t notice the new blush that presented itself as you thought of that time.
You keep quiet, not wanting to give yourself away as Jeongin gently pulls you out with him. You let your eyes gloss over his room once more. You’ve been in here a thousand times before and it seemed to grow with him over the years, and in a way, it grew with you, too. You remember the days when his bed was adorned with Toy Story bedsheets, Woody’s face front and center on his comforter (but you knew Rex was his favorite character). It had long since been traded in for sleek, black sheets—arguably more fitting for someone who is waiting for his first choice university, at the other side of the country, to respond with his admission decision.
And although you’ve been here a thousand times before, something new on his dresser catches your eye.
“Wait, is that…?”
Letting go of his hand, you make your way to the dresser, moving a crumpled up piece of paper out of the way to reveal a photo. It’s from when you were both ten years old; nearly a year after you had first met on the monkey bars, about two weeks before that classroom Christmas party. Mrs. Yang had taken Jeongin to a lights festival one December weekend, like the one you went to last year, and she happened to invite you and your parents along. You and Jeongin stood together in the center of the picture, and a giant Christmas tree towered behind your small frames. The mirthful glow of the tree enveloped the two of you as you posed for the photo, jolly smiles plastered on both of your faces.
Gasping in surprise, your lips part slightly as you take the photo in your hands. “No way…” you murmur softly, and you look up at Jeongin as he makes his way to you. “How… how did you find this?”
Jeongin peers over your shoulder. He gently holds the frame in one hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he smiles fondly. “My mom stumbled across it a couple months ago. She was digging through old photo albums and found this tucked in the back of one of them.” His thumb grazes over the glass. “She framed it and gave it to me, I guess she knew how important it was.”
You blink several times, hoping he doesn't catch the way your eyes briefly well with tears as you take in the details of the picture. You remember that night vividly and all the memories from it seem to come flooding back all at once. 
It was your first ever Christmas lights festival, and it was nothing short of magical. The vibrant holiday lights glistened all around you, rivaling the sparkles in your wide eyes. The bells in the soft Christmas music gently tinkled in your ears, as if Santa himself was reminding you he would be on his way soon. The gooey, fresh-baked (and rather expensive) chocolate chip cookie you had split with Jeongin, paired with the rich (and also questionably pricey) hot chocolate you had begged your mom to buy along with it, brought even more warmth pooling in your belly as you leaped down the lit-up aisles with your best friend. 
Looking back, perhaps that was what sparked your ongoing Christmas obsession. Sure, it didn’t snow that night, but seeing the bright bulbs all around you twinkling like stars in the sky captivated you wholly, wrapping little ten-year-old you in a warm, merry glow. It calmed the impatience for Christmas bubbling inside you by the day, but lit the fire inside you for the awaited day like never before. And best of all, your best friend was right by your side, being pulled into the evening’s embrace with you.
You notice one very important detail in the picture, though, that breaks your bubbling sentimentality, and instead makes you giggle.
“Oh my god, it’s the sweater.”
The fact that the picture was taken at night and the lights added a yellow glare to the photo made it difficult to spot. But one could take a closer look and see that, indeed, Jeongin was sporting that obnoxious purple sweater under his puffy blue coat.
Jeongin lets his hand drop, leaving the frame in yours as he frowns in offense. “Heyyy, it was comfy!”
You stifle another laugh. “Doesn’t change the fact that it was ugly as hell.”
He sneers at you, “Oh please, like you didn’t wear hideous clothes when you were ten!”
You shrug as you pull the frame up to eye level and continue to giggle. “Maybe, but nothing will beat that sweater.” 
You lunge out of the way as Jeongin tries to wrap his arms around you and grab the photo from your grasp. However, a giggle escapes your lips as Jeongin’s fingers graze your side, which causes you to jump away from him. 
A knowing smirk appears on his face. Your eyes widen. 
“Don’t you even think about it.”
Jeongin doesn’t listen to you though, and his hands are already at your sides. Your grip on the photo tightens in an attempt to not drop it as your eyes prickle with tears. Jeongin’s fingers run up and down your sides as he tickles you, and causes a mix of gasps and laughter to escape your throat. 
“Jeongin!” You continue to laugh as you try to step away from him.
Jeongin thinks quicker. Instead of torturing you more, though, you’re surprised that he chooses to pull you closer to him instead, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“I got you now!” His giggle rings in your ears as he wiggles you like a rag doll. You halfheartedly try to push him away, protesting in between your own giggles.
“Stop itttt, you asshole!”
He seems to listen to you this time, too, and lets you go. However, an evil grin lingers on his face.
You inch back cautiously, keeping a careful watch for his next move. He responds by slowly leaning closer, his smile stretching wider and wider. You slowly move your hands up to your sides to protect yourself from another tickle ambush, a nervous giggle slipping out.
He seems to inch closer and closer to you, and he stops right before your noses can touch, a shit-eating grin on his face. Then he mumbles, flashing his eyebrows:
“Stay for Christmas?”
You groan exasperatedly and lightly push the cheeky boy away from you.
“Oh my god, Jeongin!”
Jeongin breaks out into shy giggles as he steps closer to you, poking you playfully. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from doing the same whilst you try and swat his hands away.
“Come baaaack!” He chuckles after a moment, stepping close enough to wrap his arms around you again.
“Get me out!” You cry out as you try to break free. Your giggly demeanor completely breaks, however, when Jeongin just hugs you closer to him, taking you by surprise one more time.
“No,” you feel him hum through your shoulder, tucking his head in it when you try to step away. “Don’t move.” 
You fight and lose to the smile that appears on your face as you wrap your own arms around his shoulders. 
You can’t explain how in moments like this, he easily causes your heart to race by doing the littlest things. It makes you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat right now as you’re pressed up against him. If he can, he doesn’t say anything. 
“Ahem.”
A familiar voice breaks the silence hanging around you two. You both break away from the hug, keeping your gaze cast downwards as you turn to face Jisung. He had swung the door open at some point and was now leaning coolly against the doorframe as he watches you two.
Seeing you both cower under his gaze seems to amuse him greatly, and a smirk makes its way onto his face. “What was that?” he says, failing to hide the chuckle threatening to spill out.
You stuff your hands in your pockets as you sputter. “It– it’s not what it– we were just–“
“We were just reminiscing, Jisung,” Jeongin grumbles from beside you, his arms crossed over his chest. His cheeks seem to burn red as Jisung grins wider.
You simply nod along with Jeongin. “Yeah, reminiscing. What he said,” you murmur.
“Oh, you keep telling yourself that, baby.” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, which he had seemed to let grow out during his time away.
He lets out a satisfied sigh before he continues. “Ahh, I knew this would happen! It was snowing by the time I got here, so I figured you two were up here together,” he wiggles his eyebrows for emphasis, “alone. And you called me crazy!”
You want to roll your eyes at his antics, but you can only chuckle fondly. Sure, it seems like the now-college boy still believes in magic snow, but you have to admit: you did miss hearing him gush about it all the time.
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, “why’d you come up here anyway?” You seize the opportunity to wiggle your eyebrows back at him. “Did you miss us?”
It’s now Jisung’s turn to roll his eyes at you. “Mrs. Yang was looking for you two so she sent me up here,” he says, dodging your question.'' You know the party started already, right?”
Your eyes widen, and you and Jeongin flush in embarrassment again.
“Oh, right,” Jeongin mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he exits the room. “The party.”
You place the framed photo of you two on the foot of Jeongin’s bed before following him out. Jisung holds the door open for you two, his smirk getting cockier by the minute.
The older boy pokes both your and Jeongin’s cheeks as you step out of Jeongin’s room. “For the record, I did miss you two.”
You snort, reaching a hand up to ruffle his hair before the three of you make your way downstairs. “I know.”
19 years old.
“You’re cheating!”
Hyunjin’s voice nearly makes your ears ring. He really has no need to be speaking so loud, as you’re literally right next to him.
You grip your controller tighter as he tries to swipe it from you with his hand, and you lean away from him. 
“Am not!” You yell back, your eyes focused on the tiny Nintendo Switch screen. “You just suck at this game.” 
At the same time as Hyunjin gasps, Felix and Seungmin burst into laughter at your response from the other end of Jisung’s bed. At the corner of your eye, you notice Felix fall to the ground amidst his fit of giggles.
“Just get better, Jinnie,” you quip, a confident smirk tugging at your lips.
Even with Hyunjin trying to swat you like a bug, you still manage to keep your eyes locked on the game. Your chosen character, Toad, remained in first place, and after getting a green shell from a lucky box, you send it backwards, causing Hyunjin’s Princess Daisy to spin out. 
He gets passed by multiple NPCs, landing him in 10th place with one lap to go. The way he grumbles and glares at the screen only increases yours and the other two boys’ laughter. 
You’ve successfully maintained your first place title as you raced around Moo Moo Meadows. That is, until halfway through the last lap, when a voice pulls your attention from the game. 
“Why are only two of you playing?” Jeongin says, entering the room with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. At the sound of his voice, you shoot up out of your seat and look at him with a smile. 
“Jisung only has two controllers and Felix was dumb and forgot his,” Seungmin snorts, which causes the blonde boy to pout. 
“Hey!” 
Hyunjin goes silent, his own eyes narrowed on his half of the screen as he slowly creeps up the positions. 
“About time you showed up,” you giggle, “thought you weren’t going to come.” 
Jeongin laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, had a few things to do first, but I’m here now.” 
Gasps erupt from Seungmin and Felix, and Hyunjin cries in triumph as he throws his hands and the controller into the air. Your head snaps to the game and your mouth falls open as you find Princess Daisy listed as first place, dancing in her car as she continued around the track—whereas Toad, in your distracted state, had been passed by all of the NPCs and was in dead last, “DNF” flashing on your half of the screen and on your 12th place ranking in the middle. 
“You cheated!” You gasp at Hyunjin, throwing yourself back down onto the couch as you mash the ’A’ button. 
“Just get better Y/Nie,” Hyunjin remarks as he grins mockingly, using your own words against you. 
“You guys did this on purpose,” you huff, glaring at the boy who just ruined your five-game-win streak. “Rematch, now.” 
“But it was meant to be our go next!” Felix cries, his pout exaggerated. 
“Maybe Hyunjin shouldn’t have cheated!” 
“Maybe you should have stayed focused!” Hyunjin fights back. 
“Where's Jisung?” Jeongin asks out of the blue, and you motion to the door without saying a word. Jeongin snorts, nodding his head. “Thanks.” 
He leaves the four of you in the tiny dorm room to join Jisung wherever he was outside—you assumed the convenience store by the dorm lobby. Your attention gets caught once again when your phone lights up, a message notification greeting you on your lockscreen.
baby: outside :)
you: be right there :)
You chuck the controller to Felix, and he jumps in surprise. “You can play now, I need to go get someone,” you state simply, but the grin on your face seems to give you away.
A single “huh?” escapes Felix’s mouth as the other two boys watch you with curious eyes. Not letting their gaze disturb you, you head to Jisung’s front door. 
You open it swiftly to be met with your fairly new boyfriend, Heeseung. you met him after starting college this past semester through a mutual friend, and have been dating for around two months now. you don’t remember what drew you to him in the first place, but one thing is clear—he’s so damn cute.
Your cheeks heat up quickly at the sight of him. His fluffy brown hair was hidden underneath a hat and the bits of his fringe that did stick out fell against his forehead. 
“Hey.” you smile, taking a step towards him.
“Hi,” he responds, wrapping his arms around your waist which you reciprocate. “Sorry I’m late.”
“All good,” you hum into his shoulder. “All the boys are here. I’d say they’re not crazy, but I’d be lying.” 
You feel Heeseung’s chuckle vibrate through you. “It's fine, you’ve met my friends, how much worse can they be?” 
Pulling away slightly so you could look at him, you push your lips into a thin line and feign a concerned look. 
“Eh, they’re something, alright,” you drop the fake look, chuckling. 
“They finally have those snacks downstairs~!”
Jisung swings the door open, prompting you to turn around. He’s beaming and there’s a bounce in his step as a bag of chips sways in his hand, but it all dissipates into an inquisitive, perhaps even nosy, stance once he sees the boy whose arms are wrapped around you.
“Who's this?” The chestnut-haired boy tilts his head, his eyebrows drawn together.
You can’t help the smile that adorns your face. “Jisung, this is Heeseung, my boyfriend.”
You gesture one hand towards Heeseung himself, and you grin wider as he pulls you closer, nuzzling your nose against his shoulder. When you settle your head against his chest, you look back at Jisung and his jaw is practically on the floor. 
“Boyfriend?!”
Oh boy.
Heeseung chuckles again, shyly this time. He glances down at you, unsure of what to say, and you take that as your cue to do most of the talking.
“Yeah?” you affirm with a nod, but your statement sounds more like a question. “Is… is that bad?”
Jisung, still in a shocked state, opens and closes his mouth like a fish. He brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. “Oh, no, of course not! I’m happy that you’re happy, it’s just…”
Heeseung cocks an eyebrow at the older boy. “It’s just…?” He repeats, trailing off at the end like Jisung did.
You want so desperately to pretend you don’t know what Jisung meant by that last bit, but the fact that you catch three heads peeking from around Jisung’s bed only seems to prove your suspicions correct. Looks like Seungmin wasn’t exaggerating when he mentioned that “Jisung has told us so much about you!” when you met him and the others an hour ago. From the way Jisung glances fervently between you and the door, though, it’s safe to assume the majority of what he said involved Jeongin in some context.
Maybe you should’ve told them ahead of time the “plus one” you were bringing to the Christmas hangout was, in fact, your boyfriend. In hindsight, it was foolish of you to assume they’d get the memo from the mere mention of “plus one.” And by someone, you meant Jisung—the main man on the “Y/Ninnie train”, as he liked to call it. 
Funny enough, you were just following his advice from that winter formal back in high school: date and move on. Sure, it was three years too late, and there wasn’t anything in particular that you needed to move on from, but advice is advice.
Still, you send the flustered boy a stern glare. You were not getting Heeseung involved in his shenanigans if it’s the last thing you do.
But you notice Jeongin stumble in the room, bag of gummy bears in hand, and Jisung’s eyes grow wide. Your voice nearly strangles, but you quickly snap out of it before Heeseung can notice.
“And this is Jeongin,” you gesture to the hooded boy, “my best friend.”
You don’t notice the way Jeongin’s smile falls slightly as his eyes land on you, though your eyes trail after him as he wordlessly shuffles past you two and plops on Jisung’s bed. 
Jisung seems to recompose himself, and he steps closer to you and Heeseung, holding out a hand. “Heh, I’m sorry about that,” he laughs nervously, but Heeseung smiles curtly and shakes his hand. “Make yourself at home, we’re happy to have you here.”
“No worries, man.”
Jisung leaves you two alone, but you don’t miss the look he gives Jeongin. It’s full of concern, and you can’t pinpoint why.
Blinking, you shake off the sinking feeling in your chest, and take Heeseung’s hand as you two move to a spot on the floor by Seungmin’s feet, as the bed was all occupied.
Heeseung snakes his arm around your shoulders as you both focus on the tiny console screen. Felix and Hyunjin were on their last lap of Cheep Cheep Beach, neck-in-neck with each other, and you both chuckle at the boys’ chaotic screams as they pass each other back and forth.
You notice throughout the evening that Jeongin will occasionally meet your gaze when you glance his way. Each time, he opens his mouth to speak and there’s this look pooling in his eyes—some mix of longing but urgency that you can’t sense the reason behind. Regardless, your chest tightens at the sight.
You observe Jeongin whisper something to Jisung, ignoring and trying to filter out the screams of the other three boys as they argue over who gets to be Yoshi, but it’s no use.
“Are you okay?” Heeseung asks softly, the hand around your shoulders gently rubbing your arm.
You gulp but nod, not taking your eyes off of Jeongin but leaning into Heeseung’s side. “Yeah.”
An hour or so passes, and it seems like the awkward glances have only increased in frequency—not just from Jeongin, but between the other boys, too. It eats at you inside not knowing why. All you have gathered so far is that it definitely involves you and Jeongin.
“Hey, Heeseung, is it?'' Felix suddenly pipes up. Both you and Heeseung look up to his spot in the middle of Jisung’s bed, his legs criss-cross applesauce.
“What’s up?” Heeseung responds.
Felix smiles and hands Heeseung his Switch controller. “Wanna play a round? You haven’t had a turn yet.”
A smile of Heeseung’s own forms on his face as he takes the controller in his hands, slowly moving his arm from your shoulders as he hops on the bed. “Oh, bet!”
You’re happy to watch your boyfriend get along with Jisung’s friends as if they were your own—in a way, they kind of are. But one look at Jeongin and all that comes crashing down, seeing the longing look in his eyes.
You still don’t know what’s wrong. Is it because of Heeseung? Does he have some unspoken beef with him? If so, why were all his gazes targeted at you and not him?
Jeongin looks back at Jisung hopelessly, and you attempt to eavesdrop as they whisper amongst themselves. Again, the other boys in the room are too loud for you to get anything useful.
That is, until you glance back at the screen as Seungmin and Heeseung go head-to-head on Rainbow Road, and Jisung scolds Jeongin out of the blue—probably louder than he intended to.
“You need to tell Y/N. Now.”
Your head snaps their direction. Your gaze lands on Jisung for speaking so loud, but slowly shifts to Jeongin. The other boys seem to fall silent, too.
“Tell me what?”
You’re already driving yourself crazy trying to figure it out. All you want is an answer.
Jeongin sighs and sits next to you on the floor. You carefully follow his movements with your eyes. He clasps his hands together, resting them on top of his knee. He opens his mouth to speak, and you nod expectantly.
And… nothing.
After a minute of strangled silence, Jeongin sighs in defeat and drags his feet as he shuffles back to Jisung. The older boy gives him a look you can’t quite read and quietly scolds him some more. The other boys just exchange glances with each other and continue to play Mario Kart quietly, making for the worst awkward silence of your life. So much for your first college hangout.
At least you’re able to pick up some information now. You can barely hear Jisung and Jeongin’s hushed whispers even though the room is largely silent, but you do hear the word “college” over and over.
You guess it makes sense. After months of patiently waiting during your senior year of high school, you remembered Jeongin’s dispirited form when he found out he had been waitlisted for his top choice school. Following that, he’s been going to the state university in your city with you, but he mentioned something offhand about re-applying for the spring semester. Maybe he’s stressed about that, but it seems like Jisung has it covered for now.
Still, they both look over at you with those concerned, longing stares, and it’s not hard to miss.
Even after you get another turn on the Switch, you’re still left with an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of your stomach by the end of the night. Yes, you won another cup and got your sweet, sweet revenge on Hyunjin for earlier, but it does nothing to tell you why Jeongin hasn’t spoken a word to you all night. Well, he tried to, but look how well that went.
It seemed like everyone around you knew except, well, you. You hate that feeling, but at least, whatever it was, Heeseung wasn’t involved. He doesn’t need to be thrown in whatever drama had concocted under your nose, especially not during his first time meeting them all.
By the time the boys start heading out, with Jeongin being the first to go, you’re practically squirming in your spot. You can’t take this anymore.
You give Heeseung a goodbye peck as he slips his coat on and leaves the dorm. “Thanks for inviting me, I had a great time.”
You smile. “I’m glad. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
Heeseung nods, leaning down to kiss your cheek once more before exiting the dorm. That left just you and Jisung, and you turn towards the wide-eyed boy the second the door clicks shut.
“Okay, what is going on?” You don’t mean to snap, but your pent-up emotions get the better of you as you storm toward Jisung. “You and Jeongin have been acting weird all night. Actually, all of you have! What the hell, Jisung!”
“Y/N—” Jisung tries to speak, but you cut him off quickly.
“Was it Heeseung? He didn’t even do anything wrong, he was the quietest one here besides Jeongin!”
“Y/N—”
“And you think I’m not gonna notice you and my best friend staring at me like you two just did?” You stop to take a breath, and you feel heat rush to your ears the more you think about this. “How do you think Heeseung felt?! Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“Y/N, listen.”
Jisung’s soft voice makes you step back. It’s the same tone he gave you in the school parking lot when you were sixteen.
“Jeongin got into the school he wanted for spring semester. He’s been trying to tell you for weeks, he— he just didn’t know how. He leaves tomorrow morning.”
You freeze, and your heart sinks to your stomach. It’s like everything around you comes to a stand-still and the world goes deathly silent. All your attempts to speak go unheard as all you do is open and close your mouth, unable to formulate a sentence, let alone a single thought. 
A long list of questions fly through your mind at rapid speed. Why didn’t he say something? Why didn’t you push him to say something? Why did he not want to tell you when Heeseung was there? Why couldn’t you have just stayed with him instead?
“What?” 
You feel Jisung gently place a hand on your shoulder as he frowns. He pulls you in close and wraps his arms around your shoulders. That's when you notice tiny dots dampening his shirt and you finally realize you’re crying.
[go to part two HERE]
347 notes · View notes
goldenpinof · 6 months
Note
hi! was wondering if you can share info about dnp's new talent rep (and how the old one was if its okay to talk about) ^^ i've recently reconnected with the fandom through social media platforms, for the last few years i only followed them through their youtube uploads and the ocassional major news here and there. so im completely out of the loop with stuff like this. thank you so much!
hi! i'm not the best person to answer any of this, i'm so sorry.
about new management, it's InterTalent and i know only what's on their website and on google in general. as i'm typing this, only Phil has a page but Dan and dnpgames's business emails indicate that both dnp are represented by InterTalent now. which is super exciting!
about Above the Fray (they have a new website now). i'm not sure what you wanna know? if it's about why they left their previous management, then it's probably related to how Dan's tour was organised (allegedly, in my opinion!), among other things. you can see how stale Phil's career became, idk how much it depended on his manager but it's quite obvious ATF wasn't big enough for dnp and their potential. we unfortunately saw how Dan's team, including one of his managers, was unable to communicate with promoters. not to mention added shows that weren't properly planned and the cancellation of some of them. Iceland deserves a special mention: it got cancelled a month before the show. and we kinda found out about it before Dan (or his promo materials weren't updated in time and he didn't check it). he posted about available tickets with Iceland listed and in a couple of hours the show's page went down and people started getting emails about its cancellation. 2 days later Dan posted the news and apologised in Icelandic!! and also threw shade at people he worked with. it was a huge moment. i forgot how bad it was, so tragic (wad.iceland tag if anyone wants to cry over it with me again).
they left in the end of June/beginning of July 2023, i suppose. a couple of months without managers, Dan started following people who work at United Talent, and today it's October and we are with InterTalent :))
if you wanna know more about ATF i'll have to redirect you to Mandy (@alittledizzy). i'm also linking her posts about the company (the ones that show up in the search anyway. i'm sure there are more asks about it but i don't know how to find them, sorry). if you have specific questions you can ask her because my knowledge is limited :)
39 notes · View notes
Text
Okay so I admit that at first I thought people are just being dramatic with such a huge demand of P3 Remake, but I just had a opportunity to boot my old af P3FES The Answer file (not to actually play it - just to show something to my friend @god-of-a-thousand-demons , but I'll delete this save file and I WILL try again to beat this episode after I'll finish P3P FEMC route - to complete my P3 experience) and now I actually saw that those people have a valid point
Seeing how pixelated FES looks like (I mean of course it looks like that it's almost 20 years old PS2 game) and how much it was freezing for me (although I'm not sure maybe it's an issue of my PS3) it definitely needs that HD Remaster at least (but considering that I heard that apparently P3 code is kinda fucked up then probably full remake woth both FES & P3P features would be the only option) - for some reason I remembered that game looking better than it looks like haha
Also why FES comparing to P3P feels so eerie and uncanny? 😭 Ngl, Minato's ghost haunting this game is real haha (+ the fact that my console literally acts like it's broken for couple seconds when switching to PS2 emulation mode only add more to this eerie feeling lol)
Also P3P update that I'm almost in November in P3P FEMC route and I'm surprised at myself but I think I enjoy this route (and P3P in general) way more than I enjoyed P3FES
Also the other two things I found out while booting up that old ass save file:
-I ordered a new PS3 gamepad because my old one was broken and I think they scammed me because even fully charged it still don't work (no, I haven't forgot to turn it on lol) ? So I think I'll have to play The Answer & DDS duology using my old PC gamepad again
-I didn't hallucinated the option to talk to Yukari to heal you in Tartarus - when I started P3P I vaguely remembered it was there and I spent 10 minutes wondering why it doesn't work and what the hell is going on, then kinda started to think I perhaps hallucinated it being there but thankfully I wasn't haha
-P3P battle systems and direct commands spoiled me so much lol
(also a disclaimer - that's my personal feelings of this game after booting up the save file from almost 2 years - it's not FES hate post, I still love this game just like it is & I still love Minato so much haha so pls don't hate me)
8 notes · View notes
clay-cuttlefish · 9 months
Text
Okay finally I'm clearing this round. Love this run, it's absolutely my favourite Question stuff, but this list is going to be roughly nine hundred entries long and avoiding getting derailed into deeper analysis is Not Easy.
#29
Holy shit there's an actual timeline, I forgot about this! This issue takes place about three years after Vic and Shiva last fought.
Vic explicitly saying that he's reaffirming his masculinity by punching people immediately after getting his ass kicked by Shiva is exactly the kind of thing I'm trying not to get derailed by.
Every time someone mischaracterizes Shiva I want to hit them over the head with the "I believe in letting people do as they wish" panel until they stop.
There's some fascinating analysis of policing in this issue. Myra explicitly acknowledges the similarities between cops and gangs, but believes that the police generally have some moral compass guiding them even if it isn't a necessary part of policing. She holds that authorized violence is a better option than complete disorder, even with how corrupt Hub City's police have been shown to be. Vic is a lot less sure about that, but he does seem to be willing to go along with Myra's leadership, if only because he doesn't want to abandon her. I'm adding "analysis of cops-as-gangs in the Question versus No Man's Land" to the list of topics I want to dive into after I finish this.
#30
Vic's quasi-religious relationship with Shiva is. Well. There's a lot to unpack there.
It's interesting that Vic's very open about thinking people deserve punishment, despite not wanting to punish.
Annual #2
Okay mood. I also sometimes wish I was an animal with clear instincts.
Something about how early Vic is written here rubs me the wrong way, but it's hard to articulate what. I think it's just something about his speech patterns - too informal? Honestly it might just be that I don't believe that a Ditko-inspired Vic would fuck.
Before I actually got into GA comics I thought the couple chili jokes I had seen were fans latching onto one thing but no. He's asking after other people's chili mid-investigation.
Once again, the only comics where I like unnecessary Batman cameos. Extremely good that Vic just posts at him.
More chili.
Ollie sucks shit at the secret identity thing. I mean, unsurprising, but dude.
This whole issue's kinda shaky. Lots of interesting moments, but I wouldn't be surprised if the schedule for the Annual was pretty tight - even in the issues I like less of the run, the writing is strong, and it just doesn't hit quite right in this.
Green Arrow Annual #2
See, this is better. The pacing's rough at the start, but all the dialogue is more what I'd expect.
Ollie clicks so well with Tot and Myra. I'm glad the Question mostly stays self-contained, but he makes a good recurring guest.
Big fan of how this ties back into the last adventure in Santa Prisca. Bringing old plot threads back to contrast them with new themes is always appreciated.
Man I gotta read more Green Arrow once this is done.
#31
I'm a little surprised there isn't more discussion of what Myra plans to do to shelter the addicts who were squatting in the building, given that the story's very concerned with the mundane.
More scraps of who Vic used to be.
Shiva taking interest in everyday people is such a good bit of character work. She likes people who are good at what they do, and she likes the idea of destruction and rebuilding, and she doesn't mind people being into her as long as they're respectful - it grounds her.
The kiss obliterates me every time.
#32
Vic grappling with the idea he might not be opposed to murder is a striking moment. He's had lots of moments where he considered it, but this is a fight he picked with someone he doesn't know.
The contrast between soldiers, police, citizen patrols, and Vic is another thing I have to resist getting derailed by. Even when he's at his most violent, he still doesn't carry a weapon.
#33
I have complicated feelings about Jackie and Harold. They're both ableist stereotypes, but I like that Myra talks to Jackie like you would any other young kid, and there's an attempt to do something good with their relationship even if it doesn't succeed. It's interesting enough for me to want to poke at it, at least.
Harold, on the other hand... urgh. It's just not good, and he's used for cheap drama. I see what the goal was, that does not make it suck less. Still better than his later appearances in Batman.
#34
I like that Myra's self-aware about how bad her mental health is, while Vic pretends he does not see it.
The drama in this one is clunky, but the insights into Myra are solid.
Richard's wheelchair fight is cool.
In the letter column: the actual letter is ableist and misinterprets Shiva, but the idea of her being disabled has stuck with me. I would never want it to happen in a comic because there's no way it would be handled remotely well, but I already have a lot of thoughts about Vic's psychosis swag, so.
#35
It's only been a few issues since the last time other people using Vic's mask was a plot point, but it's good here so I don't care.
I like the dream sequence, but I do feel like it's a missed opportunity that Vic doesn't get to consider what leaving would mean between the dream and telling Myra. The dream is introspection to an extent, sure, but it's a big moment.
#36
Richard being able to walk is jarringly stupid, along with being ableist. I would be willing to give it the benefit of the doubt if he was an ambulatory wheelchair user who could walk several miles with ~kung fu willpower~ and hadn't told Vic for the same reasons, it would be bad but not more than a lot of stuff I've been rolling my eyes at, but no.
She loves him!!!
This ending. Fuck.
And with that, we hit 1990 and the end of the largest chunk of Question comics. Renee's first appearance is still a couple years out, and there are a few minis that come first, but from here on in it's going to be a lot less plain book review and a lot more actual appearance tracking and date checking.
3 notes · View notes
lovelyamneris · 2 years
Note
🌹
heyyy thank you!!
“This one,” The security officer says, pointing at Nina, “Was messing with the five thousand year old sarcophagus.”
Victor glares at her. He should’ve known that she’d get up to trouble. Eric had been so insistent that they keep an eye on Alfie Lewis that it hadn’t even occurred to him that clearly Nina Martin would be the one up to some sort of mischief.
“I wasn’t, Victor. Really.” Nina says, trying and failing to sound even a little bit believable, “I tried to explain to him that I’m basically legally blind and I left my contacts back at the house. I needed to get that close so I could see. This is basically discrimination.”
Okay so this obviously is more than a couple sentences LMAO but I was searching up key words in my notes app for the ask game and found this. I completely forgot I had written it. It was supposed to be for a fic where Nina and Jerome get caught by security at a museum and Victor has to come get them.
Send me a “🌹” and I’ll post a couple sentences from one of my WIPS.
8 notes · View notes
havendance · 1 year
Text
Okay, a few updates before I disappear again:
I have a couple more fics set in the same universe as World gone MAD that you'll be seeing over the next couple weeks since World Gone MAD was actually the last fic that I finished even though it was supposed to go first.
After that, my goal is to get Ch 2 of Batman for Dummies finished up.
I also noticed that I forgot to tell my queue to publish more than three posts a day lol. That's been updated
Blood for Blood
(blood for blood gets it's own heading because it's a little longer.)
So I do have a rough (and I mean rough) first draft for this fic complete but it's not really working for me right now. So that means, it's going to go sit in the back of my drive for a while until I forget that I don't actually like it. (The last time this happened where I had a complete rough draft that I was unhappy with for nebulous reason, it sat around for about year so…) I hope to return to it eventually, but I'm also not going to publish it if I'm not happy with.
Sorry to the people who voted for it in the poll, but I gave it a good old college try and if it hadn't won, I probably wouldn't even gotten this far, so there's that.
3 notes · View notes
southernsimlish · 2 years
Note
Hi! You mentioned this in a post a long while ago but I forgot to follow up then so I totally understand if you don’t want to talk about/or explain it anymore but why are you as a Black woman okay with building plantations in the sims?
I do love your builds, but typically I alter or completely change the name before placing them in my game because of my own relationship to that part of global history.
Hi! I am always open for discussion 😊 It hasn’t even crossed my mind about the names in the gallery even though I stopped calling them plantation houses a couple of years ago. I will work on changing the names of the old homes!
I am ok with building this style of home for multiple reasons! Living and growing up where I do/did, these style homes are on every street. I’ve spent my life in and out of them and choose to look at them as a memorial for those who built real plantation homes (all of them if not most of these homes In my city were built in the 20s/30s by contracted laborers. Very very few of the homes I build have been based on real ones). I am a huge historical architecture nerd and really just love the Victorian era and the style of decor during that period. Add in my love of my home state (despite it being really crappy politically a lot of the time which makes me sick more times than not) and I fell in love with this style home when I was young.
Growing up in Alabama, a large part of your curriculum is about the civil rights movement as Birmingham is a crucial cornerstone of the movement. I have always donated and been active in my community when it comes to racial justice because it is extremely important to myself and my family (obvs). Unfortunately, as the world knows, it is easy to become desensitized to our cruel past and so even though the word plantation doesn’t bother me… I forgot that it can be a trigger to others which led to my decision to not use it moving forward.
Within my game I don’t make people of color be the maids and gross stuff like that. Picture Bridgerton but antebellum South when it comes anyone can have a beautiful home or be the nanny.
I hope this answered you question and didn’t sound too crazy 😂😂
13 notes · View notes
rawbbpreferred · 1 year
Text
Okay. Going to just get it all out there now. I was brought up in a town where the only biracial couple was scorned. Tweaked out for years, still do, got caught up with the white supremacist crowd...as a 'fuck you' my Uncle used to say "go suck a dat n****r dick" to a lot of people we knew. This account is dedicated to all of the immoral, delinquent, sometimes illegal, but always pleasurable (to someone) things. No limits. Any questions answered. I'm into:
Creampies
Breeding
Black Men (I am your cum bucket - Perris, CA DM)
Incest
Anonymous Sexual Encounters
Impregnation
Cheating
Cuckold
Raceplay
Humiliation for (being a faggot, loving n* cock, cheating with men)
Gangbangs
Gloryholes
Darkest:
Open Family
Young
Rape/forced
Stealth (breeding, impregnation, pozzing)
Pozzing, gift (giving/rec)
And my current thought:
I am having the biggest crush on this thin, smart, 19 year old black...he's a kid, he said I was hot (I had to clarify 😀 for sure!). He is about the same age as my oldest daughter and has some incredible vocabulary and extensively intimate posts. He's the opposite of the stereotype I tend to sexualize, and has a stance that I don't disagree with - racism is wrong. I don't ever want to make someone uncomfortable, but in my mind I am bbc owned, we are a BBC owned couple, and I told my special friend I wouldn't cease breeding her until successful.
I am so spazzed he's gonna lose interest, he's "learning to please women" and makes me feel like a horny little school girl...I fucking love it. The last time I felt this way and a guy showed interest it failed miserably when my then 19-year-old fuck buddy knocked on the front door and made my then fiancee uncomfortable with my needs as a total bottom who cross-dresses and chased attention from guys. I cheated with this guy and got caught, it was the one occasion she meant calling me fag(got) in anger. I love submitting and hearing terrible raunchy shit while playing sometimes...that one is a favorite; I felt so small at that moment.
Seriously, this guy is hung. He (allegedly) cums a lot, Jamie forgot to take her pill until day 3 after getting bred with a 3 week load, I got a hard on when she told me in a panic. I'm ok with this guy. I *really* like him rn. I want to befriend him and experiment extensively, without fear of judgement or ridicule. I don't know that he fits the role, but he's cute, black, and willing to cum inside me and Jamie.
I don't 'see him as a bbc' or anything racist at all. I get off on it because I was always told being a faggot was bad, n****rs are the worst people on earth...and God forbid a relationship with them...and you know what, dude...this guy's probably smart asf and potent to boot. I don't want to offend him, make anything exclusive (necessarily). His skin tone, large cock, geeky (omfg I've never been so sprung), he's got Hella sex drive...and he said I was hot! Dude I was shot out. She was burned out. If he wants us like that I have been looking for exactly that - ugh! I don't want to fuck anything up.
My want? Jamie to be taken care of, experiences and sexual boundaries expanded and eliminated for all of us. I want to be intimate with a guy. Jamie will get jealous and things could all come to a halt. She's down to do anything and so am I, but she's scared of me leaving. I want to experience this completely and am willing to definitely sneak around with a friend who would come over often and even overnight. Someone who found some attraction to us. I want her happy, satisfied, and full of cum; oh. And to work out this lust. I want to feel that desire.
RawBbPreffered
2 notes · View notes
teecupangel · 1 year
Note
Anon from last night:
Nah, I was not the anon who asked about a kink with Basim*.
I would send in a fic prompt about top!Desmond and bottom!Ezio but I have no actual ideas atm, it’s just a concept in my brain, but if I think of something I’ll send it.
If I could send a gif to convey how I felt about your smutty!headcanons it would be a gif of the end of the Actual Cannibal Shia Labeouf Music video, when Shia give the one person standing ovation. *chefs kiss*. (I forgot to mention that altdes is also my ac otp last night). Everything that you put down I picked it up and was like ‘yes yes good’ and put it in my pocket like a shiny rock.
*ok, so like, to be honest (and adhd over shared mood activated), I haven’t played very many ac games. I’ve only completed ac1, and I played half of ac4 and then watched my brother beat it. I have watched other people play bits and pieces of other games, but I honestly know nothing about the newer games. That being said, I did in fact read your Desmond #destroys Basim fic and it was very very good, #goodsoup (why am I in an old memes mood today oof). I really liked how you did the whole Desmond (clone? Half?) and his Ancestors thing that was really good, and kinky and nice.
Mmm, one more thing before I go! Thanks for letting me know about the whole won’t post an ask if you ask thing, it’s really good to know! (I don’t….. need that for this ask, unless you just don’t feel like answering it🤣🤣🤣🤣).
Take your time with your prompt, nonny :)
Hahahaha, I'm glad you enjoy my headcanons. I had fun writing them.
Yeah, I can understand why some people don't play all the AC games. Honestly, AC wiki is a good site for summary (and TVTropes too).
Since we're sharing our AC games experience (long rant ahead), the first time I played Assassin's Creed was at my best friend's place and she just gave me the controller and told me to whack people with a broom as Ezio while... I think we were waiting for her printer to finish printing our report or something? I don't remember anymore, all I remember was my main idea of Assassin's Creed before was that I can whack guards with a broom that sounds like a freaking hammer. We were in college then and I was a pure 'JRPG' purist back then so I was really confused by what this game was supposed to be. I know it was related to Prince of Persia in some way and the only reason why I know about Prince of Persia back then was because I watched my brother play all the games on the PS2. How times have changed, hahaha. Anyway, it would be a couple of years before I even actually play AC1 and AC2, then half of AC Brotherhood before dropping it, only coming back like maybe 3 years ago to play the entirety of Syndicate and its DLCs because my childhood friend suggested I would love the Victorian-era setting (I did) and I've been buying AC games either 2nd hand or when it goes super cheap in PSN as they've been part of my backlog since my best friend was a huge fan (she stopped playing after AC3 though XD) so I have all of them just gathering (digital) dust. The truth is, I finished AC Brotherhood to Valhalla only like... last year. From September last year to January this year, in fact. While it's never too late to play the other games, I'm not going to tell you to play them if you don't have the time or if there are any games that you want to play more. I do believe that if you can't play a game, watching let's play (with or without commentary) is an okay alternative and sometimes you can let it play while maybe grinding on the game you're currently playing. (just, FYI, all of the AC games except AC1 are available for free if you are subscribed to PS+... I think the 2nd tier at least? Ezio's Trilogy to Valhalla is free in PS+ as far as I know.)
Anyway, back to the Basim fic. Thank you! I really enjoyed writing about Desmond (considering the narration calls the ancestors 'shades', I think it's okay to call him Desmond's shade as well) and his questionable relationship with the other shades.
No problem! And I like answering asks so, yeah, I'm posting this hahahaha
2 notes · View notes
zorilleerrant · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
I've been looking through my old bedroom and found a bunch of books I loved as a kid to reread.
The Song of the Lioness Quartet, by Tamora Pierce - the one that started it all. That is, I've been seeing Tammy's books everywhere this year, characters that yes, I do know, book recs, nostalgia posting, everywhere. So, yeah, I'm getting on board this train. I'm going to start with this series, because that's where I started the first time, but I'm going to read through a lot of Tortall, hopefully. Anyway, that's why I wanted to look through my old books.
Batman Forever, by Peter David - yeah, it's the official movie novelization. I was obsessed with this book as a kid. I read it over and over again. So I have to include it.
The Last Vampire series, by Christopher Pike - I picked this up as a kid because I was like, omg, like THEE Christopher Pike??? and I figured someone who would name himself after THEE Christopher Pike would write great books. And I did really enjoy the series, so it worked out. I saw at some point there was a sequel series to this or something? I was excited to learn that years ago and then never did anything with the information.
Time Cat, by Lloyd Alexander - this book was so inspiring to me as a kid. I don't remember if it's any good or even if I thought it was good at the time. But it made me write a whole bunch of terrible short stories about cats with magic powers, which largely resulting in adults in my life telling me I couldn't spell. Which was true but wasn't even the point, okay, maybe cats have their own language which is just like English except spelled bad because they can't spell because they're cats. It's fine.
Star Split, by Kathryn Lasky - I saw this on my shelf and I have no idea what it is. It gave me very warm and fuzzy vibes to look at, though, so I think I must have liked it. I guess I'll figure it out!
Replica series, by Marilyn Kaye - this is about clones or something. I don't recall details because at the time I was willing to read anything and everything that so much as hinted at clones and anyone grown in a test tube or vat. It's probably either good or bad. I don't know how many there are and I literally don't even remember the main character. She's named Amy? Okay, sounds good to me, I believe you. Why's she cloned tho
Cirque Du Freak series, by Darren Shan - I loved the conceit of this, which is that they're a true chronicle that no one would believe. Oh, but that's very common - yes, but no one actually committed to the bit by making the main character and author share a name, which I loved. I don't remember how far through this series I read, either, so there's probably a lot of story past the point where I stopped, which is going to be fun.
Twitches series, by H.B. Gilmour and Randi Reisfeld - Okay, I'll admit, I only read the first one. I tried to find the rest at the library and they didn't have them, and then I forgot completely. Finding the movies as an adult was fucking amazing? They're great, if you like campy silly fantasy, and seeing some of my favorite actors in those roles was so much fun, so I've been meaning to go back to the series (but, again, forgetting). Just. Twins. Who are witches. It's just the distilled wishes of every SFF book kid.
Rascal, by Sterling North - I double checked and nothing horrible happens to the raccoon at the end of the book, which is weirdly common in kids books? Anyway, I just remember this being my introduction to all the cool things raccoons could do with their tiny thumbs and being very impressed and enamored and yes, of course I wanted a pet raccoon, but that's not special, I still wish I could have one of those they're adorable.
I Was A Sixth Grade Alien, by Bruce Coville - someone requested this for Yuletide, and I was like. Okay, I have for sure read that book, and I remember literally nothing about it except what's written on the tin. I think I only read the first book, or the first couple? Like, this is a series, right? I have no idea! I just saw the title and went I really have to figure out what that's about before it drives me crazy! It's a great title, though, isn't it?
Julie of the Wolves series, by Jean Craighead George - I have definitely read two of these books, but not, I think, all three. Other than this one, I don't know which of the two I read. Maybe I did read all three, but just not all at the same time? You have to understand, I was a Wolf Kid. When I saw there was a book not only about wolves, but where the main character was friends with wolves? Family even? I was the most excited I've ever been to read a book, and they really delivered. Excited to hang out with Julie again, and make sure I've definitely read all of her stories this time.
Jedi Apprentice series, various authors - I might read the Young Jedi Knights or Junior Jedi Knights series too/instead, but this was the one I apparently had on my shelf. I loved it so much. I was in love with the former apprentice sith who wanted to take over the world, which is par for the course, really.
Holes, by Louis Sachar - a children's classic. Also the movie is one of the best adaptations of a book I've ever seen, and I might give that a rewatch, too. The song in this story gets stuck in my head randomly since I read it, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Diadem series, by John Peel - I only read the first three books of this, because even though I searched for more than a year, the fourth volume was out of print and not in any library I could find. The rest of the series wasn't out of print! Only the fourth one! I wanted so badly to read the rest of the series because it had everything I was looking for as a kid. Alternate worlds. Kids who grew up in entirely virtual environments. SFF old timey places with archery. Some ambiguous villain that our heroes were intent on stopping despite not knowing who he/she/it/they even were. Hopefully I can find the fourth book this time somehow or my reread will also be cut tragically short.
Fearless series, by Francine Pascal - I also don't know how far I made it through this series, but I am very nostalgic for a character who just does stuff because she doesn't feel fear. Everyone wants to give me characters with tragic backstories, or who have to overcome their phobias. Nobody wants to give me someone who gets a bloody nose fistfighting a stranger because she forgot she wasn't supposed to. ADHD relatable? Okay, yes, maybe. But she's also one of those 'this person was an asshole so I bit them' characters, so I love her.
Among the Hidden series, by Margaret Peterson Haddix - a series I kept up with in real time, for a while, and I think I read to the end? Or almost to the end? Whatever, I love most of her books, they were my favorites as a kid, and despite the awkward xenophobic loading of the premise, the idea of a whole underground world of hidden children trying to find connection is an interesting subversion of the SF trope, one that actually has the scaffolding to make sense, instead of just 'yeah, we kept them in a cupboard their whole childhood but they're normal somehow'. It's heartbreaking and cool.
Goosebumps and The Nightmare Room, by R.L. Stine - I'm definitely not going to reread one whole series, let alone both. I've got to find highlights lists somewhere and go back to the popular ones, but, still, a lot of these were some of my favorites.
The House of the Scorpion, by Nancy Farmer - This has a sequel, which I never read, and I'm very much looking forward to that. The whole story had such a huge impact on me, both for what I look for in elaborate worldbuilding (this book has the best worldbuilding ever), and in how I write emotional arcs. I used to try to write plot driven things exclusively and, you know, I'm not really a plot writer. I'm all about the characters, and I feel like people try to hide that from kids. Chapter books are always plot driven! They only slowly let the character driven ones in, and then the worldbuilding ones, and how often is a MG or YA book allowed to be structurally driven? Basically never. Anyway. Huge impact on my attitude towards narrative. It was also just really emotional for me. One of my favorite books, and I really hope it holds up on rearead.
0 notes
laura-bradley24 · 5 months
Text
The teacher
Fucking anatomy! It has always been the subject that I struggled with the most at high school, and now at University. I have just completed my first year at one of the most prestigious schools, the University of New South Wales. I still cannot believe I got accepted into one of the best medical programs the country has to offer. A pinch me moment I don’t think i will ever get over. With that being said, fucking anatomy has kicked my ass this first year. I passed the exam in my first semester, but only just. I’ve decided to dedicate my summer break to really study anatomy and physiology, without the pressure of deadlines and exams, to really smash pathophysiology of disease in my second year.
When i enter the library i find that it is so quiet and peaceful. Nothing like when it is full of egoistical maniacs who only received a spot at this uni through mummy and daddy’s pay check. This is heaven. This is how a library should be. No one around me except for a man who looks old enough to be my dad. He is hard at work, possibly a post-grad student. I will leave him be and find an area far away from him. I’m nice like that.
I find my spot in a dark corner; my back is up against the wall of the library giving me a full view of whoever comes in and out of this library. There is a row of medical books and journals to my left. Lord knows i will need them. I can smell the old books and instantly it makes me feel at ease.
A couple of hours go by and i decide i need a latte. I leave all my belongings at the library, i cannot be bothered with lugging all of it with me. I put my AirPods in, naturally put “kiss it better” by Rihanna on full volume and head towards the sweet sweet sound of coffee being made.
On my return, i noticed another dedicated soul in the library. I wonder what he is studying… wait why is he sitting right next to my things? For fucks sake dude, you have a whole library why must you sit near me! Wow Rosie, calm down. Maybe he didn’t see your stuff there! My anger comes back with logic- as if he couldn’t, i basically have moved in with the amount of shit i brought with me. Okay, it doesn’t matter, just because i am polite to others doesn’t mean they need to be polite back. Maybe it’s a rich fuck boy whose daddy bought the kids’ education with sponsoring the library and he feels he can just invade anyone’s personal space.
As i move closer i can see that this isn’t a boy. This is a man. This man oozes confidence. I can literally smell it rolling off of him. He has dark thick hair which i recognise. Maybe I have seen him on campus before. As i walk closer i realise it is my fucking anatomy and physiology lecturer from first session. What are the chances? Maybe I overreacted. Okay, I definitely overreacted! I will have to make the most of this and pick his brain as best as i can. If he lets me that is. Oh god, please let him help me.
I am almost at our table now and i forgot just how devastatingly beautiful this man is. Not just his mind is brilliant, his jawline is strong, his lips are full and those eyes. Those stunning, alluring green eyes that demand respect and mean business. “Hey Liam, it’s Rosie from first session. How are you?” Oh my god this man smells so good. What is it that i can smell…cedar? “Yes i remember, how are you Rosie?”. The way he asks me in that low voice makes me weak at my knees and sends lightning bolts straight down to my pussy. “What are you doing here?” I ask him in an unnatural tone. Shit. I repeat in my head “you can not fuck your teacher, you can not fuck your teacher, YOU CAN NOT FUCK YOUR TEACHER!”. I don’t even listen to his response, all i can focus on is his lips when he speaks. Those lips look like they could really fuck a girl up. My mind wanders off to thinking about kissing them, running my tongue along them, biting them. Shit. Fuck. Why is this man turning me on so much right now? “Hmm sorry, what was that?” Pay attention Rosie!
“I asked what it is you are studying”.
“Oh, anatomy and physiology actually”
“You passed my class” He says in more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah i did. I just want to make sure that it is cemented into my brain before i start studying how disease takes over the body” my response comes out quite nervous. And thank the lucky stars cause he has asked me if i want some help with my study.
We are going over the cardiovascular system. There are three textbooks open and my laptop. My brain, yet again, is fried with information. This is such a complex system. My hands go up to cup my face and i let out a loud sigh. Liam looks at me, his lips turn into a half smile which just melts me to my core. “Break time” Liam demands. “I just need to go down this isle and find another textbook on the pulmonary system” i respond. “Okay, i’ll come help you look”.
We are searching for the right textbook when i feel something running down my arm slowly. I turn my head to look and i see it is Liams hand running down my arm. Tingles shoot up my arm to my neck and straight back down to my pussy. “You have been working so hard Rosie, I am so proud of your dedication to your study. I’d like you to feel how hard it has made me”. OH MY FUCKING GOD. Liam takes my hand and places it on the outside of his jeans. Hard is all i can feel. Rock fucking hard. “You look like you need to release some tension Rosie, i want to make you come baby so you can focus back on your study”. Is this really happening or did i fall asleep at my desk? That thought is pushed out of my brain so quickly as Liam spins me around to face him. He looks at me with those damn green eyes demanding me to pay attention to him. “Do you want me to make you come, Rosie?”
Part two coming
1 note · View note
schmemthoughts · 1 year
Text
POST 1
I recently saw a post regarding sexual trauma and what happens after you experience events that feel out of body, events that you had no say over. In some cases studies have shown that after someone experiences sexual trauma some are prone to be more sexually active. Why? How does that make sense? We were forced into sexual activities and now on the path of healing we may be involved in more sexual behavior? Granted the difference is one instance you are in control of the other you are not. Are we trying to take our control back? The control that was stolen from us? Be in charge of our life again? Be in charge of our body again? Take back what our abusers took from us? Others may completely become uninterested in sexual acts, even platonic touch. Some may experience both at different times or even at the same time.
The first time I got sexually assaulted or “touched inappropriately” i was about 10 or 11, it was by a family member. My brain has locked away so many traumatic events just for my own survival and I often forgot about certain experiences. My family member and I often spent a lot of time together at this time of my life, he was only a few years older than me. We were locked in his bedroom and he was touching my arms, which led to my breasts that I didn’t even have at that time. He went to my thigh and assured me not to tell anyone. It stopped there as I made a commotion but it still doesn’t change his intent. After than instance no one believed me in my family and I never spoke of it again.
The first time I got raped I was 15 years old, and under the influence. I was at a party in a bad part of town, drunk out of my mind. This guy and I had the same lunch together in high school, I was a sophomore he was a junior. We never really spoke outside of lunch, we hung out with the same people but had little interaction with one another. When we got to the party we were already pretty drunk, I was with my best friend at the time. When I get there my abuser offers me drinks and shots and makes sure I am taken care of and having a good time. I mistook his plan for kindness, we can thank my absent father for that. After I can barely talk or walk and in the midst of all the shots and drinks he is all over me, making out with me and making it very known he wants to get in my pants. Somehow we ended up in a bedroom and I kept saying I didn’t feel good but he told me to be quiet and everything will be okay. He took my clothes off and I tried to push him away but I kept going in and out and I was spinning anytime I sat up. As I said I was in and out of consciousness I most likely had alcohol poisoning, and when I came back to my pants were off and he had turned me on my stomach and he was inserting himself in me. I kept saying no I don’t feel good and he just pushed my head down. After a while he was finally done and he finished on me and left me in the room, a couple minutes after he left I heard yelling with other people saying the cops are here. Somehow I ended up outside on the stairs next to the cops and my best friends mom came and got us. I didn’t tell the cops what happened, I couldn’t process it. It took me a couple years to understand I got raped. When I spoke up to some of my friends they had told me he has a history of doing that, getting girls incoherent and taking advantage of them. Acting like it was consensual when it was in fact not.
I had a boyfriend for about 5 years on and off, he was my first love and I endured all the abuse because I thought that was love. He was a drug dealer, always on drugs. Always getting into trouble, in and out of jail. Got me hooked on stuff I never thought I would touch, brought me around people I never should’ve met. He ruined my life for a while, but I let him. I allowed it, I was scared. He always told me its not assault or rape if we are dating, he can do whatever he wants with me and my body. I would wake up to him inserting himself into me or touching me, I would tell him no and to stop and he wouldn’t until he finished. He would try to have sex with me while he was beating me, in his mind he thought we were making up. One time this same boyfriend wanted to hug me after we had been separated for years and he knew I was out as being a lesbian, I told him I wasn’t comfortable with him touching me and he told me I was being weird and something is wrong with me.
There was a guy I was seeing on and off for about 2 years, he didn’t live where I lived but he would come back for the summer and holiday breaks. He often made me feel guilty if I didn’t have sex with him, he would keep touching me until I gave in. I felt like I had to have sex with him if I wanted to leave or go to bed, I just wanted to get it over with. He never asked if it was okay or if I even wanted to do anything. He never asked for permission. There were times were it was okay but not every single time. Anytime I tried to talk to him about it he would deflect and blame it on me.
I had a girlfriend and she would constantly get drunk, drink way too much. I was open with her about my trauma, emotionally, physically and sexually. She did not care as alcoholics are very selfish and typically don’t remember anything that doesn’t involve alcohol. She would never listen to me when I would tell her no I didn’t want to have sex or didn’t want to be touched. She would get handsy and forcefully kiss me, put me in a corner and touch me. She would get aggressive and when I would freak out she would try to flip it on me.
I worked at a bar and my coworker who is a man, often made passes at me. At this time I was out and confident in my sexuality, and he knew that. He was dating another coworker and she was actually pregnant with his baby. One night we were working and I had to close, he was first to get off. He waited for me to get off work and then he sexually assaulted me. He insisted he wait for me, he insisted to get into my car when it was uninvited. He stuck his tongue down my throat and forced his hands down my pants, grabbing my breasts. I told him no and he never asked for permission, but he thought it was okay. I left immediately, I made up an excuse and got out of there so fast. I told my work and he was fired but no one believed me.
My wife has never once touched me when it isn’t wanted, and if I ever ask her to stop she does. She knows about my trauma and has helped me heal in so many ways I never thought were possible.
Getting something taken from you that is sacred to oneself is something no one talks about enough, it is too common in our world. I would like to say I have made peace with what has happened to me, in some ways I have and I have not. I still get flashbacks, I have diagnosed PTSD. Sometimes I can’t have sex with my beautiful wife because I can’t shake what has happened or my flashbacks feel too real. Coming to terms with your abuse and accepting it is a way to heal, it won’t take away the pain but it can mend the brokenness.
1 note · View note