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The North Pole workshop on December 24th was pure chaos. Elves ran back and forth, carrying heavy boxes, shouting over each other, and trying not to trip on ribbons and toys.
There was still so much to do before Santa started his journey. Gifts had to be checked, reindeer had to be cared for, names had to be confirmed so no good child was forgotten. Some toys were still unfinished, rushed together at the very last minute.
In the middle of all that noise stood one very anxious elf.
For many, Christmas was magical. A time of joy, love, and surprises. For Namgyu, it meant stress. Too much noise. Too many elves. Too many things that could go wrong.
As the workshop supervisor, Christmas was just numbers to her. Lists. Schedules. Rules. She checked toys for mistakes and pushed them forward if they passed. She counted boxes and handled emergencies.
That was her job. There was nothing magical about it.
Right now, she was standing in her green sweater and long black skirt, holding her pink, glittery clipboard so tight her fingers hurt. She was doing her best not to snap.
Too many mistakes had already happened. Toys painted the wrong color. Knitted animals missing arms or eyes.
And when she counted the wrapped gifts, she noticed one was missing. She knew exactly which one. Red box. Green ribbon. A teddy bear inside.
Namgyu closed her eyes and sighed. She knew who did it.
As if she didn’t give herself enough pain, there was one elf who made her life even harder. Thanos.
She was Namgyu’s unnie, but she had no sense of responsibility. No care for rules. No interest in doing things right.
Thanos worked with the reindeer. She was supposed to help take care of them, check Santa’s sleigh, and move the big red bags of gifts.
Her job was important. Which made it even worse that she was so bad at it.
Namgyu stormed outside, the cold wind hitting her face hard. Her nose quickly turned red, but she didn’t care. She was too angry.
She found Thanos at the reindeer barn, leaning against the wall and vaping, a cloud of berry-scented vapor curling from her lips. Her bright purple hair, neon graphic hoodie, and chunky streetwear sneakers instantly gave Namgyu a headache.
“Hey,” Namgyu said sharply. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“What?” she asked.
“One gift is missing,” Namgyu said, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Oh. That. Well…” She slipped an arm around Namgyu’s shoulders. Namgyu stiffened in disgust. “If a toy accidentally falls into my pocket,” Thanos said lightly, “is it really stealing?”
Namgyu shoved her arm away. “Yes!”
Thanos laughed and reached into her hoodie, pulling out the wrapped gift and handing it over.
Then she leaned closer, grinning. “Namsu, your nose is so red, I almost thought you were Rudolph.”
“It's Namgyu! Now shut up and do your job,” Namgyu snapped.
She turned and walked away with firm steps, leaving a trail of glitter behind, the gift held safe in her hands.
Namgyu hated working in groups. If it were only her, none of this would happen. No stolen gifts, no careless mistakes. No elves like Thanos.
Namgyu was soon back at work. When she returned to the workshop, a new stack of toys was already waiting for her to check.
She sighed, walking quietly as she picked one doll from the pile and looked at it closely.
There was too much to do and only a few hours left before Santa Claus began his journey.
There was a time when Christmas made her excited. This job used to make her proud.
But somewhere along the way, the colors, the lights, the smell of pine and gingerbread, the gifts and the glitter stopped feeling magical. They started to feel heavy and overwhelming.
Giving gifts had turned into just another task.
She had worked hard to become a supervisor. She had direct contact with Santa Claus and an important role in the workshop. Still, she felt empty inside.
She checked the toys one by one, her movements stiff and automatic, like she was a machine.
“This one is missing an eye,” she said, tossing it into the defective box. “This one has a hole. I hate this color. No, no, no…”
More than half of the toys had problems. Some of them were being fixed for the fifth time already.
She lifted the heavy box and walked to the toy-making room.
The moment she opened the door, all the elves turned to look at her.
She dropped the box on the floor. She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “You all know we only have a couple of hours until Christmas,” she said. “And still… where’s the effort?”
Her eyes stopped on two elves in particular: Semi and Minsu.
“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Namgyu sighed, “but I saw you two kissing behind the shelves yesterday. If you want to be a couple, fine. But you’re clearly putting that before your work.”
Semi scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You’re just saying that because you don’t have a girlfriend. Or anyone at all who can stand you,” she said. “We are doing our best. All you do is get angry and point out flaws. Maybe try being nicer for once? You talk about our mistakes, but you don’t even seem to like Christmas anymore. How can you be a good supervisor if you don’t even like Christmas?”
Namgyu clenched her fists. Her eyes burned with tears. “You—you’re wrong. I love Christmas and—” She couldn’t finish. She turned and ran.
“Weren’t you too harsh on her?” Minsu asked softly, watching Namgyu leave.
Semi sighed and gently patted her girlfriend’s hair. “It’s fine. Let’s just finish the toys, okay? Today is supposed to be a happy day. We’re supposed to make kids smile.”
Meanwhile, Namgyu ran until she stopped behind a tall shelf of gifts. She slid down to the floor, hugged her knees to her chest, and cried.
Semi was annoying. And worse—she was right.
No one liked Namgyu. She was alone, pushing everyone away without even meaning to.
She didn’t like this job anymore. She was surrounded by magic, colors, and glitter every day, and she was still unhappy.
She stood up and returned to the quality-check room, picking up her clipboard.
She had so much work still left to do, and later that day, she'd have to attend an important meeting with Santa Claus and the senior elves.
She sighed, crouching down to count the gifts again, desperate to ensure none was lost or that Thanos hadn't stolen another.
Her hands shook. The numbers on the clipboard blurred together with the piles of gifts, and her head began to hurt.
Namgyu left the clipboard behind.
She walked until she was outside, and then deeper into the forest.
She didn’t have a destination. Namgyu just didn’t want to be there anymore.
She felt guilty for leaving her responsibilities behind, but deep down, Namgyu felt like she wasn’t good enough to carry them anyway.
--
She walked and walked, not knowing how much time had passed. All she knew was that she was freezing, and the sun was already going down.
She wondered how things were at the workshop. Santa would leave soon. Were things better without her? She thought they probably were.
The forest felt unfamiliar. She didn’t know where she was, or how to go back. Panic crept into her chest, mixing with a heavy thought she couldn’t push away—maybe there was no place for her in the workshop. Or anywhere at all. It wasn’t like she had somewhere else to go.
A sudden sound in the trees pulled her out of her thoughts.
Her heart jumped. Was it an animal? What was she supposed to do?
Then bright purple hair appeared between the branches. Thanos.
Namgyu wanted to be angry. She really did. But she was too cold and too tired to care.
“Namsu?” Thanos said softly, stepping closer. “Knew you'd be here. You’re freezing,” she added, wrapping a warm, thick blanket around Namgyu’s shoulders.
“I noticed you were missing right away,” Thanos said. “So I was like, 'Where's Namsu?' And no one could find your ass anywhere. But then I saw your footprints in the snow and your glitter trail, and I came running!”
Namgyu tried to glare at her. Instead, her face crumpled, and she started crying.
Before she could stop herself, she buried her face against Thanos’s chest.
Thanos stiffened, cheeks turning pink, but she slowly wrapped her arms around Namgyu anyway. “Namsu? What is it? Are you hurt?”
Namgyu shook her head, wiping her tears with her sleeves. “No. It’s just… there’s no point going back. No one needs me.”
Thanos pulled back slightly to look at her. “Is that what you think?” She shook her head. “Total garbage. We need you.”
She hugged Namgyu tighter, sharing her warmth. “Look, the toys are finished, but they're all waiting for your special approval. And the meeting with the fat guy? No one else can sit through that without falling asleep.”
Namgyu looked up at her, eyes red and swollen, still pressed close. The familiar smell of Thanos’s vape clung to her clothes. It usually annoyed Namgyu. Now, strangely, it felt comforting.
“I don’t know…” Namgyu whispered. She hated feeling this weak. She had left her duties behind. She wasn’t even sure she cared about the job anymore. Someone else could take her place.
“Listen,” Thanos said gently. “Yeah, you're a little high-maintenance and your glitter trails everywhere. Whatever. We all have our flaws. But everyone has a spot here.”
She smiled a little. “Santa really likes you, you know. He’ll be sad if you’re not there. And the kids… they won’t get their gifts without you. You're important, Namsu. Like, really important.”
Namgyu sniffled, rubbing her eyes again. She didn’t know how much of that was true, and how much Thanos was just saying to make her come back.
She was still scared. She still felt like the other elves didn’t like her much. Like she wasn’t good enough.
But in Thanos’s arms, she felt strangely safe. That was enough for now.
They walked back together, their hands tightly intertwined. Namgyu cried quietly the whole way.
She was still tired and sad. Her legs felt weak from all the walking, and the cold still lingered, even with the blanket around her.
She was overwhelmed. But at least… she wasn’t alone anymore.
When they entered the workshop, Namgyu squeezed Thanos’s hand and hid slightly behind her. She was scared of how the other elves would react.
Her heart beat faster as they walked toward the quality-check room. All the elves were already there.
But instead of judgment or mocking, something else happened.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Semi said. “The toys are ready. We only have a couple of hours, you need to check them.”
Namgyu blinked, surprised. The other elves nodded in agreement.
Even Semi—who always annoyed Namgyu —was saying this.
Maybe… she really was important after all.
Namgyu’s sad expression slowly faded, replaced by determination. She stepped forward and began checking the toys. A small smile appeared on her face.
They were perfect. Not a single defect.
“Wow…” she whispered. “They’re incredible. How did you do this?”
“Well…” Minsu admitted, rubbing the back of her neck, “we had a little help.”
Thanos smirked proudly. “Yeah, I had to save your butts. They were seriously struggling, so I jumped in.”
“You… did?” Namgyu looked at her in surprise. For the first time, she smiled openly at Thanos. Her cheeks felt warm, and she quickly blamed it on the cold.
“Duh,” Thanos said, giving her a gentle nudge. “Now go. You have an important meeting with Santa in, like, two minutes. Stop staring at me.”
Namgyu looked around. All the elves were watching her with the same supportive look.
Her eyes were still puffy, and her chest still felt heavy, but she ran—and she made it on time.
--
While Namgyu was gone, the elves worked together, counting gifts and placing them into the big red bags. As each one filled up, Thanos, flexing slightly, carried it to Santa’s sleigh.
It was hard work, but by the time Namgyu came back with Santa and the senior elves, everything was ready.
Namgyu walked beside Santa to the outside, where the elves had gathered, waiting anxiously.
“Like I said, Santa,” Namgyu said, taking a breath. “Everything is ready. Thanks to everyone’s hard work, it all went perfectly.”
Santa laughed warmly. “It looks wonderful. The reindeer look healthy, and… is my sleigh newly painted?”
Namgyu smiled proudly. She hadn’t even noticed those details before. She hadn’t noticed how hard Thanos had worked.
“Yes,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “Thanos unnie worked really hard!”
Santa climbed onto the sleigh, and smoothly, it lifted into the sky. The reindeer carried it away, leaving trails of glitter behind.
Namgyu watched, standing close to Thanos, and without thinking, she took her hand. Thanos startled, her eyes snapping to Namgyu’s, but then she squeezed back firmly, keeping her attention fixed shyly on the sleigh.
Only when the sleigh disappeared from view did the elves finally relax.
“It’s finally over,” Semi muttered with a yawn, hugging her girlfriend.
Namgyu turned to Thanos, still holding her hand. She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. “We can finally rest.”
Thanos nodded. “Seriously. No more presents until next Christmas. I’m done. If anyone says the word ‘gift’ again, I might cry,” she joked, laughing softly. “Although…” she added, a sudden mischief in her eyes, “I did make one exception.”
She pulled a pink, glittery box from her hoodie.
Namgyu felt her cheeks warm. “Is that… for me?”
“Duh. It’s a bribe, Namsu. A peace offering,” Thanos teased.
“You didn’t steal it, right?”
“Of course not,” Thanos said, tossing her purple hair back with exaggerated offense. “I actually made it, like, ages ago. I was just too chicken to give it to you. And you were always too busy glaring at me, so…”
Namgyu giggled softly, feeling the tension finally dissipate, and opened the box with shaking fingers.
Inside was a handmade pink scarf. “Pink is your favorite color,” Thanos said quietly, her teasing voice momentarily gone, replaced by a sincere softness. “That’s why I chose it.”
Namgyu smiled brightly and wrapped it around her neck right away.
“I love it. You really paid attention to the details. You’re really good at making gifts,” Namgyu said, brushing her fingers through the soft and warm fabric.
She hesitated, then stood on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to Thanos’s cheek. Thanos’s entire body went rigid, her mouth falling open slightly.
“I think… it’s time to rest,” Namgyu said softly, stepping back and feeling utterly bold.
Thanos just blinked, recovering slowly. “Uh. Yeah. Rest. Good plan.”
“Do you have someone to rest with?”
“...Nah. Not really,” Thanos answered, rubbing the back of her neck, avoiding eye contact.
“...Me neither,” Namgyu said shyly. “Would you like to drink some tea with me?”
“Are you serious? I—I’d love to, Namsu.”
They intertwined their fingers and walked together toward the workshop’s rest area.
For the first time in a long time, Christmas felt magical again. Not because of the gifts or the lights, but because of the warmth Namgyu found in another elf.