#it’s dark so I’ll make a Christmas message later and give you a pic of Puppy as a gift 🫶

[yoohyeon]

Traffic is bad 😭 Give me more time to mentally prepare myself to see my grandma and my aunt though 🤪

[nctsworld]

two nights, one you

✩‌ jaemin ‌x‌ ‌reader‌ ‌|‌ fuckboy!jaemin | strangers (who f*ck) to (brief) enemies to lovers | ‌10.9k 

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ a last-minute one night stand gone awry is extended into two nights when you’re snowed in at the cute (but rude) stranger’s apartment on christmas eve. [loosely based on the movie, two night stand] // part of the x-mas in ncity collection  GENRES ⇾ crack | smut | fluff  WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ ‌lots of bickering and dialogue, smut, oral s*x (f and m receiving), fingering, mentions of alcohol/drinking, swearing, bit of angst before the end, jaemin’s an asshole... or is he? RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ explicit TAGLIST ⇾‌ @infnteen​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ it’s late (and long fsldkm), srysry but here it is! i hope the humour comes out in this and look away if falls flat zzz fingers crossed that i can finish the last two installments for this collection asap! 

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Maybe it’s because it’s the evening of Christmas Eve Eve and you’re feeling more lonely than usual.

Maybe it’s due to the two glasses of wine you guzzled down in the span of fifteen minutes that get you buzzed.

Maybe it’s your prominent six-month dry spell and you’re in desperate need for some much needed rain in your drought.    

Or maybe it’s just pure impulsiveness.

Regardless of the reasons, you’re aiming to get laid tonight.  

It’s 9:45pm as you make the rounds on Tinder. You’ve used it in the past, searching for a relationship in vain, but haven’t used it much since you broke up with your last partner. Bringing the app alive again, you’re already bombarded by distasteful messages, off-putting one-liners and jokes, and swiping left more than you’d like.

You haven’t had a one-night stand before, but isn’t there anyone on here that is just a little bit attractive, nearby where you are, around your age, and is somewhat chivalrous about the topic besides saying DTF? Maybe you need to lower your standards if you want to get dicked down tonight.

But then, you land on him.

One Na Jaemin, 20 years old, and only four miles away from you.

Scrolling through his profile pictures and Instagram feed, you assume that he’s into photography, is on the athletic side from the various hobbies he partakes in, and he must be at least half-aware of his beauty because there’s the occasional pic that shows off his lean, toned arms, which, if you can be frank, is more flattering than the shirtless ones you constantly see. Oh, and he attends the same university as you.

The cherry on top? His bio is simple and upfront:

“Not up for anything serious, but always down for a good time ;)”

You swipe right without hesitation.

“It’s a Match!” flashes instantly at you. Your mouth swings open in disbelief.  

Usually, you’d wait for your matches to message you and play hard-to-get, but not tonight. Tonight, you’re initiating and leading all the conversations, completely driven by your thirst.  

Messaging Jaemin is a breeze. He types with more than half a brain, and he flirts, but it isn’t overwhelming or repulsive. Segueing the current topic, you drag your bottom lip upward as you send the following message:  

so, hypothetically... if one were to have good time with you would tonight work?

Not even twenty seconds later and he replies with:

-wow, dont you go straight to the point -im impressed -but yeah -tonight works ;)

He’s quick to send his address.

-let me know when ur here and ill come get you out front!

Smacking your lips together, you squeal to yourself in the comfort of your home, excited to meet with him, but then a thought hangs over you—this feels a little too good to be true. Horrible scenarios run through your head, so your fingers dash across your phone’s keyboard:

tbh i haven’t really done this b4 so im kinda new to this is it ok if we video call or smth? gotta make sure you’re real and not a serial killer i’m sure you understand 😛

-for sure for sure -totally get it -ive had my fair share of fake girls and serial killers so i feel u 😛

Grateful for his consideration, you rush to rearrange your hair after you send him a Zoom link, hoping you look decent enough to not have him back off from his initial offer. He appears in the video call on his phone with the front-facing camera on a few seconds after you connect.

“Hi,” you chirp.

A corner of his mouth lifts. “Hey.”  

Okay, he’s definitely cuter in real-time than in his pictures.  

“You know, I’m not gonna lie, but I lowkey expected to see a dick or something,” you joke in an attempt to dispel your nervousness.  

“Same,” he chuckles, running a hand through his black hair.

Oh God, he’s not just cute—he’s devastatingly gorgeous.

“So, this is my place...”

Jaemin moves around with his apartment in the background, revealing his living room first. Envy prods you as you note the brick walls, high ceiling windows, and well-appointed furnishings.

Recalling his address, you ask, “How’d you get a place in the heart of the city?”

“Lucked out,” he shrugs. His phone shakes a bit as he’s still moving. “My friend slash roommate—who is at his girlfriend’s place tonight, so we have the place all to ourselves—his parents own the condo and they gave me a friend discount on the rent.”

He finally stands in one place and turns the light on to reveal a room. “And this is my bedroom.”

Nothing out of the ordinary. A desk table with a gaming set-up, in tow with a gamer chair, and a decently-sized bed beside a nightstand.

“Oh, and here’s my closet.” Jaemin’s on the move again as he opens his closet doors. “Just to make sure you don’t think I hide the skins of my past one-nighters in here.”

A bubbly laugh rises from you. “Okay, I didn’t think of that before, but now you’ve planted the seed in my head. Maybe you hide them in the other rooms.”

“Nah, my roommate would kill me if I did.”

Both of you laugh in unison, and you bob your head with puffed cheeks.  

“Okay, it all seems very promising. I’m going to get ready and I’ll guess I’ll see you in a bit, Jaemin.”

“Sounds good,” Jaemin nods, then winks. Although you’re sitting down, he’s still able to get you weak in the knees. “See you soon.”

You end the call and rush to bundle up for the snow starting to come down outside. A twenty-minute train ride later, you’re at the front door of a rustic, industrial apartment complex. After informing Jaemin you’re outside, you glance up at the snowflakes falling from the dark pink-grey sky, anticipating for what comes next.

Sex with a hot guy, what can go wrong?  

So, you must’ve jinxed it because the sex is...  

Unsatisfying. Finished faster than you’d like it to be. Sadly, overall disappointing. If you had to rate it, three out of five stars, at best.

But hey, he came, and you sort of did, and it wasn’t the worst sex you’ve ever had. It half-quenched your dry spell.

And enough happened that it tired you out, leaving you passed out in the handsome stranger’s bed until morning.

In the morning, your eyes slowly flicker, unused to the foreign, sweet scent engulfing you in your bed. Correction: Jaemin’s bed.

Your eyes flicker faster as you glance through the almost wall-sized window. The snow hasn’t let up from last night. On the contrary, it seems like it’s snowing non-stop. You groan at the thought of going home in this weather.

The bed is without Jaemin’s presence as you reach for your phone on the nightstand. 10:36AM and a few notifications greet you. You rub your eyes and start combing through them, rising upward to sit up on the bed.

“Morning. You’re finally up.”

Peering up from your device, Jaemin’s standing by the door with folded arms. His plain sweater and sweatpants match the colour of his hair. The dazzling smile he gives is so contagious, you’re not even conscious of catching one too.  

“Out you go.”

You blink.

Once, twice, and then you tilt your head as you stare blankly at him, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

After a few moments, because you’re not moving an inch, his smile dissipates and he cocks an eyebrow in expectancy. A serious expression rolls over his face.  

Suddenly, Jaemin strolls to the side of the bed and hitches his thumb towards the door.

You definitely heard him right.

And he’s dead-serious.

You replay the video call from last night, dissecting how you thought he was nice and funny and—

Realization dawns on you.

Why would you expect anything more from a two-faced fuck boy?

Still awestruck by the situation, you’re still solid as a statue, so Jaemin takes matters into his own hands and grasps you by your elbow, casually dragging you from his bed like he’s taking out the trash.  

“What the fuck?!” you screech.

“C’mon, let’s go. Out out.”

“My clothes, though!” you protest in the middle of the hallway. He sighs in frustration, scurries to the bedroom, and returns with a small pile in his arms, then continues to drag you to the front door.  

“Are you always this pleasant with your guests the morning after?” you rage, putting on the rest of your clothes by the door. “You don’t even have the decency to offer me tea or coffee?”

“This was a one-night stand, not a bed and breakfast, sunshine,” he says as he watches you put your shoes on. He’s folding his arms again and leaning against the wall, his attitude dripping with smug. If he wasn’t a stranger, you’d punch it off his face. “You weren’t kidding when you said you were new to this, huh?”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means you’re a borderline virgin who needs to toodle-loo, get going and gone because you’re overstaying your welcome as we speak.”

Finishing putting on your coat, you’re fuming as your jaw hangs at the personal jab over your skills in bed. Jaemin swings the door open and shoves you through it.

“But I’ll admit, it was still nice having sex with you!” he chimes with a sickening grin and a hand on the door.  

“Aw, thanks asshole, wish I could say the same,” you sarcastically reply, resting a palm upon your chest.  

He scoffs. “From what I heard last night, I think I can confidently say that you had a great time.”

Flashbacks replay in your mind of your screaming fest from underneath him. Little did Jaemin actually know—

“You know, for someone who I assume has many one-night stands,” you spit with squinted eyes. “I’m surprised you can’t tell when girls fake it.”

You must’ve hit a sore spot because he grinds his teeth and you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

Oh yeah, you’re definitely the winner in this fight.

“Okay, you know what, Merry Christmas and fuck you. Have a great life!”

“Fuck you, dickface. Wishing you a miserable Christmas!”

With a bitter smile, you flip him off as he slams the door in your face.

Carrying a basket filled with dirty clothes, Jaemin’s on the way down to the laundry room in the basement of his apartment with his shoulder scrunched up, squeezing his phone to his ear.

“Bro, she had the audacity to say that I didn’t make her come when she was screaming my God damn ear off—”

As he steps down the short flight of stairs and passes by the foyer area by the main entrance to the building, he notices you’re still here.

“Shit, uh, Jeno,” he mumbles. “I’m gonna have to call you back.”

He stuffs his phone into the pocket of his sweats and calls out to you as he strides closer. “Are you resorting to stalking me by my front door now?”

With crossed arms, you peer over your shoulder, eyes full of bitterness.

“Like I wanna be anywhere near you right now,” you grumble. You jerk your head towards the thick, wooden door. “It’s jammed from the snow.”

The laundry carrier shakes his head and places the basket onto the floor. “A little snow never hurt anyone. You’re probably just too weak.”

Stepping aside and holding out an arm, you signal for him to give it a try.

Jaemin twists the handle and, lo and behold, it doesn’t open. His forehead crinkles as he tries again and again, using more force each time.

Glancing through one of the partially frosted windows adjacent to the sides of the door, he notices the snow has piled enormously high, almost to the height of his chest.

“Well, shit.”  

Reluctantly, Jaemin brings you back to his apartment. You’re technically his guest and if he left you in the foyer to freeze, trouble would surely come his way, whether it be in the form of his landlords (also known as his roommate’s parents) or the police.

Without a word, he settles a spoon in a bowl, a carton of milk, and a box of cereal onto the small kitchen table.

At first, you stare at it venomously in rejection, thinking you can easily last a day without any hand-outs from this son of a bitch, but your stomach roars ferociously three seconds later.

As you chew across from him, you enjoy the company of your phone over him, while he does the same but with a cup of coffee in hand.

After finishing your food, you adamantly place your phone down and lean back into the chair, boring holes into his head.

“Why are you such an asshole?” you seethe observantly.

“Why are you such a bitch?” he retorts, not pulling his gaze away from his phone.

“Because you started it,” you say slowly, stating the obvious.

“No, you.”

You sigh defeatedly at his childish behaviour. The weather apps predict the snow will (hopefully) die down by tomorrow morning, thus you’re officially stuck with him for the next twenty-four hours or so. Your hands rake through your hair.

“Whether we like it or not, the snow isn’t going away until tomorrow. Merry Christmas Eve to us, I guess.”

He’s still glued to his phone. You exhale another sigh.

“Since we’re not getting out of this until then, can we just...” You soften your voice. “Start over?”

His eyes are still on the screen, but from the way his shoulders tense and how he stops scrolling, you know he’s considering your proposition.

“At least call a stalemate over this.” You drift your hand in the air, gesturing between you and him.

Blowing out air and shaking his head, he rests his phone onto the table.

“Fine.”

He crosses his arms, imitating you, and the two of you sit there, staring at each other in a long silence.  

One minute, to be exact.

You’re the one to break the silence game by running your hands over your face, letting out a hybrid of a groan and laugh.

“God, the fact that we had sex makes this kinda awkward, huh?”

Jaemin’s exterior melts slightly, letting out a snicker. He shrugs, “Then let’s just pretend that we didn’t have sex.”

“We can’t just pretend that we didn’t have sex,” you say, holding two upturned palms near your face.

“We did it, it’s done. I’ve seen your penis, you kicked me out, and you labelled me a prude—” You dart a finger towards him. “—which I am far from, by the way. All of those are pretty huge things.”

One of the corners of his mouth raises high. “Are you saying my penis is huge?”

“No, the implication of said penis is huge. Wipe that smirk off your face.”

He stretches an arm, holding an imaginary microphone to your face. “Do you deny that my penis is huge?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his fist away. “What am I, on trial here?”

“Do you plead the fifth then?”

Annoyed, you roll your eyes again. Why do you get the feeling that you’re probably going to be doing this a lot more today? Another feeling tells you that if you don’t answer his question, he’ll probably pester you until you do.

You tilt your head side to side. “It’s... decently sized.”

“Bigger or smaller than average?”

“Perfect...” His eyes light up. “...ly average.” And a frown rolls over.

He squints his eyes accusingly at your sneer. “Are you lying like you did before about faking it?”

You scoff. “I wasn’t lying about faking it, and I’m not lying now about your average sized dick.”

Jaemin releases a disgruntled grumble and lifts his cup to his face. You notice he likes to take his coffee black and bitter, presumably like his heart.

“So, Miss I’m-Not-A-Prude-and-I’ve-Definitely-Had-Sex-Before.” His eyebrows perk up on the word definitely. “What’s your story? Why the last minute one-night stand?”

Shrugging your shoulders to your ears, you reply, “Haven’t had sex in a while.”

“When’s the last time you had sex?” he asks mid-sip.

“Half a year ago,” you respond nonchalantly, perching your chin into your palms.

Jaemin immediately chokes, almost spraying the coffee through his nose.

“Half a year?!” he gasps. It takes him a few hits to his chest to dispel the coughing. “Six months?!”

“Wow, you can count!” you exclaim in a condescending tone. You change the position of your hands so that your chin is now atop of the back of your curled fingers and tilt your head. “Can you also spell?”

“As a premed student, I can assure you that I am capable of doing both,” he says with a slight strain due to the coughing fit. The humble brag brings on another eye roll. Of course he’s a premed student with the attitude he wears.

“It’s just—” He clears his throat and swallows the last bit of coffee stuck in his windpipe. “—The last time I had a dry spell was for like, a month, tops.”

So the fuckboy gets laid way more on the daily than you expect. You’re torn between being envious over how much action he gets in comparison to you, or remorseful, since you’re now just one of the many notches on his bedpost.

No matter, sarcasm is always the best defence mechanism.

“Good for you, Jaemin. I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

There’s an awkward beat. His head hangs for a moment while his thumbs stroke the sides of his cup. A strange pinch of guilt occurs. Did you overstep an unspoken line? But then he drags himself back to reality in a heartbeat.

Jaemin brings the cup to his mouth again, mumbling, “At least the sex on your part makes more sense now; you’re rusty as fuck.”

Completely aware of what he said, you trash your guilt entirely and narrow your eyes. “What did you just say?”

Following a long sip, he hums, “Mmm, nothing.” Soon after, he stands up with his cup.

“I’m gonna go game now. Feel free to watch Netflix on the TV and stay in the living room.”

As if you had anywhere else to go...  

He begins to walk towards his room as you mutter under your breath, “I’m not a dog.”

“Says the bitch,” he pipes up, taking you by surprise.  

“Thought we had a stalemate?!” you shout, leaning your head forward as you watch him entering his room.  

“Doesn’t mean we’re on peaceful terms!” he sing-shouts.

The flinging of the closed door echoes throughout the apartment.

Regret surges through you. You just had to choose a fuckboy fluent in assholery and end up incidentally being isolated with him during a snow storm on Christmas Eve.

You wonder if you can handle being around him for the next twenty-four hours without killing him first.

During the afternoon, you’re on the living room couch, playing a show as mostly background noise while you’re on your phone. At one point, your phone unsurprisingly begins to die and you tread over to Jaemin’s door to ask for a charger and if you can also take a shower. He’s still annoyed by your existence, but at least he hands you a charger and lets you know where the extra towels are.

Stepping into the living room with the towel in your hand as you dry your hair off, you peer out the large living room window and see nothing but white engulfing the streets and buildings as far as the eye can see.

You pray the snow will eventually stop as soon as possible so you can head back home.

By the middle of the afternoon, Jaemin emerges from his bedroom and shocks you by plopping down on the opposite end of the living room couch from where you’re sitting.

“Bored?” you ask, eyes fixated on the TV screen.

“Nope,” he replies, popping the p as he says it. His slings his arm around the top of the couch.

“Gotta keep an eye on you in case you do something.” Turning away from the screen, he faces you and motions circles with his hand. “You’ve got a little crazy in you, I can feel it.”

You quickly glance over at him, but try to refocus on the TV. “Need I remind you that you’re the crazy one, dragging me out of the apartment right as I woke up.”

That compels him to turn his whole body towards you. “Well, you’re the one who wanted a last-minute one-night stand.”

You match his stance. “As if I’m the first girl in your bed to stay in the morning?”

“Actually, yeah.” He aggressively tilts his head to one side. “Most girls leave before I even get up. The other percentage don’t fight me when I ask for them to go, so it looks like you’re the odd one out.”  

You press your lips together, refusing to admit that maybe he has a point, under the assumption that he’s telling the truth.

Jaemin twists his body back to the screen and adds, “I make it very clear on my profile that I don’t do morning afters, sweetheart.”

And you agree that his profile is clear about his intentions, but that doesn’t mean you can condone his shitty behaviour.

“Well, sorry that I expected just an ounce of respect instead of getting kicked to the curb after you stuck your dick in me,” you grumble, shifting back to the show and crossing your arms.

“Morning afters lead to attachments, and attachments lead to feelings, and feelings lead to relationships,” he says the string of words clinically, as if it’s a mantra that he lives by.

Your eyebrows knit together as you whip your head towards him once more, studying him.

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

Deliberately averting your gaze, Jaemin grates his tongue between his teeth, a slight tsk audibly heard, and his chin juts out. There’s definitely a story behind his ways. He huffs and changes the subject.  

“Seriously?” He holds a hand out. “You’re watching this trashy show?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you could probably interrogate him further, but you decide otherwise.  

“It may be trashy,” you concur, looking at the TV. “But it’s my trashy comfort show.”

Following an over-the-top acted out scene between the show’s main love interests, Jaemin shoots up from the couch.

“Yeah, no, I can’t handle this. Can we either put on something else or game or something?”

“Why don’t you go back to your room to game, Mr. I’m-Not-Bored?”

“Like I said, I gotta keep an eye on you,” he says while bending over in front of the TV, already setting up the Playstation. He tosses you a controller as he strides to his side of the couch again.

He mumbles to himself, “Need to make sure you don’t go crazy from the lack of human interaction.”

Either Jaemin is selfish and only looking out for himself, or he wants to make sure you’re not feeling lonely in a stranger’s home.

Likely the first reason, you deduce—because why would a guy like Jaemin care about a mere one-night stand?

Admittedly, you’re not the best at games, especially at fighting ones. You can comprehend the move lists, but you like to live by button smashing the controller and repeating moves over and over.  

So it’s hilarious when you beat Jaemin every round with your surprisingly fruitful technique.

“Okay, this is bullshit,” Jaemin complains, sticking his tongue out in irritation. His ass is currently being handed to him on a plate again since you’re almost done killing his character off. “You must be lying to me; you have to be a pro player or some shit.”

Jaemin’s health bar is dangerously low as your character jabs his with a sword. He winces out loud and you snicker.

“Why do you think I always lie about everything?! Dude, you have serious trust issues,” you joke before you steal the opportunity to slice his character. One more hit and he’s done for.

“I do not! I just—nooo!”

You rise to your feet and pump your arms in the air, turning in circles in joy over yet another win.

Sulking, Jaemin eyes your little dance from his end on the couch, but as he watches you more, a feeling balloons in his chest. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Finally coming down from your post-win high, you spot an emerging grin from the corner of your eye, making you pause.    

“What?” you eye him suspiciously.

Your suspicion pops the sensation in his chest and, like a fish out of water, his eyes widen and his grin melts away.

“Nothing, uhm.” He ruffles his eyebrows and palms the back of his neck, quickly facing the TV. “Let’s go one more round and then we can switch to another game—”

Suddenly, the TV and surrounding lights switch off. Both of you waver your eyes, anticipating for them to come back on, but they unfortunately don’t.  

Jaemin rushes over to the window. When he swivels his head towards you, his face darkens.

“Looks like it’s at least the whole block. The streetlights are out too.”

Without another word, he dashes to the linen closet and brings back several blankets. He calmly explains that there won’t be heat since it’s connected to the electricity, so it’d be best to keep warm with the extra layers.

Not wanting to scare you, he doesn’t add the fact that due to the huge windows in the apartment, more unnecessary cold air will come in, but you’re already cognizant of it from your own logic and since the remaining heat dissolves rapidly.

You groan and retreat into the massive blanket over your shoulders, turtling your head.

You can’t believe you’re going to fucking die in this asshole’s apartment on Christmas Eve.

On the ends of the couch in your makeshift blanket jackets, both of you attend to your phones for a while.

From what people and the news outlets are saying, it’s not just the block, but the whole city grid is out. You frantically text your friends, giving updates on how you are and half-jokingly telling them that you’re going to die with your dreadful one-night stand. Some time passes and Jaemin tosses his phone  off to one side.  

“Well, since there’s nothing else to do and we should probably conserve our phone batteries—” You glance up at him from your phone and pout. Slowly nodding in agreement, you toss it aside too. “—why don’t we play a game of ‘I’ll-Give-You-Pointers-on-How-to-be-Better-in-Bed’?”

A smile burgeons on his irritatingly handsome face and your eyes roll. At this point, you wonder if the reaction is conditioned into you. “It’ll be my early Christmas gift to you.”

“Wow, so thoughtful, how could I ever thank you?” You drag the blanket closer to your chest in false gratitude.

You think for a serious moment if you really want to go through with this. Hearing Jaemin run his mouth on you unwarranted is already painful, but to give him the go-ahead to do so? Especially criticizing your skills in bed?  

You blow out a sigh, noting the slightly visible cloud. You’re grateful Jaemin has thick, downy blankets.  

Well, if you’re going to die, may as well know what went wrong, right?

“Fine, but if we’re playing this game, we have to say everything honestly and take the criticism we get.” You point a stern finger. “No rebuttals, just acceptance.”

“Wait.” Jaemin crinkles his face in genuine confusion as his hand peeks out from his blanket.

“You have things to criticize about me in bed?”

Your lips tremble before you burst into laughter. Displeasure is on Jaemin’s tight-lipped face as you laugh for a while, almost keeling over in your blanket ball onto the hardwood floor. “How conceited are you, oh, my fucking God?”

He slices his hand through the air. “I’ve never had any complaints—”

“Because you’re too busy focusing on your own orgasm, you selfish dickwad,” you say as your laughter dies down.  

He sits in his snit for a few more moments until he gets over it.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs. Jaemin knows he’s not going to enjoy this, but he’s the one who suggested it. He can’t back out now. “Let’s just get this over with, you go first.”

With your blanket held by your chest, you hop off your end of the couch and shuffle over in front of him where he’s seated. Beaming, you begin.

“Let’s start with foreplay.” Jaemin’s eyes light up with confidence, thinking he’s at least decent with that. You crush his expression as your lips purse and you shake your head.

“Non-existent.”

“What do you mean?! I kissed you as you took off your clothes.”

You stick your free hand out from your blanket, extending your index finger.

“One: you only kissed my lips. You know, there are other parts of me to kiss, like, I don’t know, my neck, my arms, my shoulders.”

You extend another finger. “And, two: it’s weird to not help someone take off their clothes. Like you’re in a super rush to get somewhere or something—”

“We’re fucking!” he cuts in sharply. “This is a one-night stand, not a relationship.”

Closing your eyes and dropping your head, you pinch the bridge of your nose. You sigh in exaggeration.

“Thought we agreed no rebuttals...” you softly sing-say.  

Jaemin’s head sinks a little into his blanket. “Sorry.”

Removing your hand, you shrug. “Maybe there’s some rule that I don’t know about one-night stands, so this could be on me.”

You start to aimlessly tread back and forth in front of him, dragging the blanket along too. “But fuck, foreplay is foreplay for a reason. You work your way up to the heat of the moment and it makes sex much better, regardless if you’re in a relationship with the person or not.”

“Next point.” You stop walking and direct your focus on him. Pointing your finger and looking him dead in the eye, you ask, “Do you know what a vagina is?”

He snorts with a simper. “Uhhh, is this a rhetorical question?”

“No, I’m legit asking,” you say with a raised eyebrow and snarky smile. “Because when you went down on me, all you flicked your tongue at was the outside of it, also called the labia if you didn’t know.”

“I’m premed, of course I—”

“Which is great! But you didn’t go any deeper nor did you go near my clit.”

You thrust your finger again. “Do you also know what that is?”

“Yes...” he groans with the flickering eyelids.

You swipe your arm through the air. “Maybe make use of it, and not only when you go down on girls. Even during sex, touching it is great.”

“And lastly,” you continue. “I’ll be honest here, you have a decent dick.”

Jaemin waggles his finger. “So you were lying before—”

“I wasn’t lying,” you retort firmly. “But anyways, you’ve got the stuff, but why don’t you put it to better use?”

With the following words, you attempt to gesture with your body and execute moves as graphic visuals. Jaemin giggles at the sight.

“Vary the speeds and the angle, don’t just slam it in me and go crazy fast from the get-go. Build up to the climax. Jesus, I couldn’t even get close to coming because you’re like a jackhammer from start to finish.”

When you finally finish, Jaemin’s giggles morph into hollow laughs. Frustration is blatant on your face, pondering if he even absorbed a single word you said.  

After he calms down, he asks, “Are you done?”

You mumble, “Yeah, I think so.”

The two of you switch places. He shuffles onto his feet with his blanket while you sit back on the couch.

Jaemin pulls the blanket across the floor as he ambles. “Okay, your head game is decent—”

“Excuse you, my head game is strong.”

“Uh-uh, rebuttal,” he points out.  

You sigh. Pinching your fingers together, you drag the invisible zipper across your mouth, then wave your hand, allowing him to resume.

“Your head game is decent. You definitely can deepthroat, but—” He mirrors you from before and extends his index finger.

“One: this happened only a few times, but your teeth scraped against my dick, which is why I assumed you were a borderline virgin.”

You fume silently at the accusation, attempting to not speak up with a heap of rebuttals. But he wasn’t wrong—if you teethed on his dick, that’s a classic virgin move.

“But that’s okay, because we already established that you’re just rusty.” Jaemin flashes you a fake comforting smile as he continues to pace. You flash him one back.

“And two—” He holds another finger out. “Don’t be scared to use your hands and stroke me. Give my dick some love. If it’s too wet, just wipe your hands on the bed or something.”

“Okay, duly noted,” you hum. “Next.”

“Don’t be scared to touch me.”

“I touched you so much during—”

He shoots you a glare. You roll your mouth inward, your lips disappearing instantly.

“Your hands were mostly on the sheets, which is hot, but guys like to be felt up too.”

The attractive individual peers up for a second, thinking to himself. “Even hotter when a girl feels herself up during the fucking, but that’s beside the point. Baby steps, just remember to touch the other person.”

Jaemin does a full-stop and faces you.

“And just... don’t fake it.” Distress is evident in his pout. You hate to admit it, but it’s a little cute. He raises an arm and jerks it in the air. “Why do girls fake it?”

“Because guys with egos like you can’t handle criticism,” you reply bluntly.  

“What are we doing, having this conversation, hm?”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation if it didn’t snow in and keep us here together.” You peel a hand away and gesture to the window. “If I walked out of here this morning, you would’ve just fucked the next girl the same.”

He defends himself, “Faking it just feeds our egos.”

“Yeah, well, if I told you afterwards that I didn’t come, what would you do?”

“Try to make you come in other ways?”

Shaking your head, you scoff. “Guys like you aren’t that considerate.”

“You’re right.” He assents, holding his pointer finger against his chest. “Because guys like me aim to please.”

A brilliant thought leaps in his mind and Jaemin gasps. You can only assume bad things from the wicked smile he sends your way.  

“Why don’t we try it again?”

Perplexed, you squint at him.

“Try what again...?”

“Sex,” he says enthusiastically.

You blankly stare at him.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you deadpan.

“I mean, there’s nothing else to do and it’ll keep us warm.” 

You continue to stare at him until you groan.

“Oh, my God...” Your blanket droops a bit off your shoulders as you drag your palms across your face. “I cannot believe I’m stuck in this snowstorm with you out of all people...”

Sitting next to you, Jaemin persistently reasons with you. “Think of it also as another learning experience for the future partners we’ll have.”

“Yeah, if we don’t die first!” you shriek.

“We’re not going to die,” Jaemin replies in a mocking tone and a dart of his tongue.  

Outside the window, the snow seems to have slowed down, but not by much.  

God, Jaemin better be fucking right because you want to live to see another day.  

“Fine,” you mutter and match his gaze. “But we have to be vocal throughout the whole thing. Say whatever’s on our mind.”

“Fine,” he agrees to your terms. He produces the same wicked smile again. “But can we film it then? So we can study it after?”

You fire him a death glare that melts his face off, even in the frigid atmosphere.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he says, waving his hand.

They say that jokes are half-meant true, but you think Jaemin fully meant it. Still in your blanket jackets, Jaemin snags your free hand and leads you to his room.

“You gotta give me credit for trying, though.”

“No.” You shake your head with an unwilling smile creeping on the edge of your lips. On second thought, maybe the joke was a little funny, but you still stand by your opinion that he’s the most annoying person in the world. “I don’t think I will.”

“Thank God Chenle has so many scented candles...”

On the edge of Jaemin’s bed, huddled by the blanket, you watch him light up several large jars, placing them on his nightstand and desk in hopes to brighten the room. It’s already late afternoon, but one could mistaken it for nighttime with the muddy sky due to the snow.

“Is Chenle your roommate?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers with a slight shiver, igniting the last candle near the bedside. He removed his blanket when he went to nab the matches and candles. “His girlfriend gets free ones from work, so she always gives him a shit ton, even though he never uses them.”

With a glowing hue against his face, he blows out the match. He makes his way to you, a cocky grin plastered on him, as he says, “Guess we’re making use of them now, though.”

Before you can even respond, Jaemin gets right down to business—sitting beside you on the mattress, he palms your face and drags you in for a kiss. You softly yelp, but immediately reciprocate.

The cover falls off your body as you reach to touch him, fingers drifting over his solid arms.

You don’t want to stroke his large ego, and maybe it’s because you haven’t had anyone else on you in a while, but Jaemin’s kisses are something else.

The cushiony pair of lips always executes enough pressure against your mouth, increasing and decreasing on command in perfect tandem and timing. His hands hover over your waist and the nape of your neck, fingers sinking into your hot skin.  

His mouth trails downward the side of your neck. You crane your head back, indulging in his caresses as soft moans trickle out.

He gently signals for you to recline back and lay onto the mattress, moving the sea of blankets aside. Inclined on his elbow, almost atop of you, his cool fingers glide under your top layers, his thumb stroking against your stomach.

Pulling away from your body, he tugs on the ends of your clothes. You rise from the bed to better the angle for him to discard of them.

The hairs on your skin are standing on end from the frigid air, but you’re too focused on Jaemin’s mouth migrating over your upper arm and your bra-covered chest to care. Without notice, he stuffs a cup of the bra to one side and takes your bosom into his mouth.

Air’s seized from your lungs and your core contracts from the pleasure. Your fingers tug on Jaemin’s luscious locks and his free hand squeezes your unoccupied breast.    

After a few twirls of his tongue and a gentle drawing of his teeth on the pointed tip, he mumbles hotly into your chest while he thumbs your other nipple, “Foreplay still non-existent?”

“It’s better, I guess,” you sigh with fluttering eyes. His chuckling reverberates against your cleavage, a sign of amusement from your obstinacy. A gasp pierces the room as Jaemin repeats his actions onto the other breast.

He aids you in taking off the rest of your clothes and, obviously aware of your goosebumps and shuddering, tells you to get underneath the blankets while he strips himself.

Under the toasty ocean of layers, despite how both of you are bare-boned and how easy it is to jump into the main act, Jaemin purposefully continues to prolong the foreplay. Side by side, your lips meld endlessly; your legs and hands are intertwined in an amorous pretzel.

Jaemin ensures he doesn’t leave any part of you untouched—the pads of fingers virtually graze over every inch of your body. Each grip and drag of his digits sends you in a frenzy. Your chest is pressed into him and your eyes are blinded with desire.

In the back of your mind, you think about how you were right about foreplay working up to the heat of the moment—literally, because you’re dripping, he’s hard, and you two have embraced so much that you don’t need the blankets anymore.  

On the other hand, you wonder if Jaemin was right about skipping foreplay, because with every whisper of each other’s name, the intimacy rises immensely. You don’t know him, and neither him with you, but you’re both freely drowning in one another in a plane beyond the lust.

Although the room’s beginning to smell of a mix of all the scented candles, Jaemin hones in and drinks in your sweet aroma and your entirety behind his hazy eyes and already tousled hair. All of a sudden, one drag of his fingers over a particular sensitive spot on your body makes you giggle.

“I’m ticklish over there.”

“You mean right—” He drums his fingers over the area again. “—here?”

With a toothy grin, he generates more suffering from you and you begin to lively howl. Soon enough, you beg him to stop.

“You’re such an asshat, c’mon, let me live!”

When he ceases, his head hangs over yours and your gazes connect.

The same feeling blooms in his chest from before in the living room.

He gulps as his eyes waver over your face, unknowingly tracing your beautiful features and etching them into his memory.

Your starry eyes. Your glowing aura. Your everything.

You barely register the change in his expression because he quickly tramples on his moment of weakness by kissing you passionately.

Jaemin whips the blankets aside as he lowers himself between your legs. Your eyes are fixated on him, matching his stare, until he starts to devour you by swiping against your lustrous folds. Your back bows, and, following a few more licks, Jaemin makes a point of his knowledge of the vagina by spreading your lips and ravishing your pussy, tongue penetrating deeply.

Rippled moans release in harmony with your undulating chest. You swear you’re getting more wet, too wet, likely making it overwhelming for Jaemin, but he’s eagerly lapping every drop up.  

“How’s that?” he inquires with a grin, hovering over your trembling nether lips. His mouth is evidently glossy, even under the dim lighting.

“Good,” you pant in the most nonchalant tone you can muster up. “Very good-ahhh—”

Jaemin kindly interrupts you by tonguing your clit as he fingers your sex deeply, shattering your fake indifference.

“Move your tongue up more,” you direct, creasing your eyebrows in despair. He follows your direction, and droning moans ensue.

Jaemin’s immersed in your pleasure, but also adding to his own. The more he laps up your wetness, the more he grinds his length against the bed, aching to be inside of you.

Your desire pulses faster, contracting tighter against his fingers, body winding tensely by the second.

“Fuck, Jaemin,” you whine, leaning your head to one side with a parted mouth. “I’m close.”

He draws back and temporarily replaces his tongue with his thumb.

“Good,” he pants, cocking his head to one side. His eyes are filled with determination. “Because I’m not stopping until you come at least two more times tonight.”

You exhale a light laugh. “That’s ambiti-ohgodohgod—”

His tongue works wonders on your clit once more, so much that he has to brace your bucking hips.

Okay, maybe Jaemin did learn a thing or two and actually listened to what you said during your critique.

But now it’s time to demonstrate to him what you’ve learned.

You don’t need much of a break to catch your breath, nor do you want to immediately freeze due to inactivity, so you pull Jaemin in for an intense kiss, tongue dipping into the remnants of your own nectar, then beckon for him to take your former place on the bed.

Perched on the bottom of your feet, you’re on one side of Jaemin, lackadaisically fisting his prominence. After a few strokes, you gradually swallow his inches, keeping in mind to relax your jaw and to not rush in order to avoid any potential teething. You do this to prove yourself worthy of giving head, but also in spite, because you absolutely do not need Jaemin to brand you a virgin again.  

You read his quiet groans and his long fingers running lazily through your hair as a positive sign and advance further.

Carefully, you rest your tongue beneath the underside of his cock and bob your head, licking him until he’s sopping with your saliva. His grip in your hair grows in strength as his length reaches the end of your throat, his groans becoming more and more drawn-out.

A needy whimper leaves him as you suddenly withdraw. Dribbles of your spit follow, and you wipe it off with the back of your hand.  

“How am I doing?” you glow in a pant, lazily stroking the doused shaft.

He simply nods with half-lidded eyes, barely able to look at you. “Yeah.”

You snicker at him in his breathless position, a prickle of pride running through your spine over the fact that you blew his mind as much as you blew his dick.

“Use your words, Jaemin.”

Teasingly, your fingers curl around his blunt head, soothing the sensitive tip and sending jolts throughout him.

“Fuck—” he pulls his bottom lip upward. “Awesome. You’re doing awesome.”

“Anything to critique?”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head restlessly. You revel a bit more in having the upper hand on him a little while longer. You grip him tighter and hasten your speed, leaving him gasping for air.

“Am I still rusty?”

“Nope, nope,” he croaks, voice rising to a whine. “Definitely not rusty.”

“You sure?” His cockiness has transferred over to you.

“Yes, yes—fuck, slow down, please,” Jaemin begs.    

Granting his wish, you abate your rhythm and free his inches from your touch.

You wipe your hands on the sides of the bed while Jaemin rummages through the drawer of his nightstand and hastily rolls over the rubber over himself before he prepares to enter the body beneath his.  

Recalling your advice, Jaemin mindfully starts off slow. You sigh blissfully in sync to his thrusts. He adjust himself, attempting another angle, and you draw in air between your teeth.

“There, there—“

Jaemin’s quick-witted and keeps at it, plunging a bit more vigorously. Out of habit, your hands grasp onto the bedsheets, but you wittingly attach them to his frame. Hands grazing his neck, his firm pecs, and his taut muscles.  

“Touch-touch my stomach,” he orders in a hush.

You hands follow through and feel up the flexed valley of his abs. Feeling up evolves into desperate gripping and even the slight dragging of your nails.

“Your abs are so fucking hot,” you state thoughtlessly, eyes eating up the view alongside his cock disappearing in and out of you. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Yeah?” he rasps with that devilish smirk of his. God, you want to smack it off him, but not right now—not when you’re reaching euphoria. “You’re not just saying that?”

Oh, you’ve definitely stroked his ego now, but there’s no turning back. Truth spills from you on a whim.

“You’re a fucking masterpiece,” you gasp acutely.

You’re starting to wither away, yet, as if they have a life of their own, your hands drift away from him and find a new home atop your breasts.

“You make me feel so good, Jaemin...”

Jaemin’s eyes go wide. His mouth hangs at the lewdness of you touching yourself.

“Fuck, holy shit.”

His gaze doesn’t leave your ecstatic face or humming body for a second as you knead your breasts and tweak your nipples between your fingers. Your back arches further when Jaemin deepens his sweet, fulfilling thrusts. He’s holding himself back, not wanting to end this beautiful deed just yet.

The stimulation bursts over your body, both from your own doing and Jaemin’s.  

You plead, “Faster, please, faster.”

And he complies, but he also rubs your bundle of nerves, causing a tight knot in you to build up and your shallow moans transform into heavy screams. You clasp onto his back and claw at the protruding shoulder blades.  

“I’m-I’m—”

You clench, both with your core and your nails digging into him, but Jaemin’s unrelenting, capturing your second peak for the evening.

Instead of coming after you, he shockingly veers lower and closer to you and curbs his pace.

“Was that real?”

You respond with an exhausted nod. Oddly, the smile he shows this time isn’t arrogant, but warm and teetering the line of tenderness. His lips fuse with yours before they stray towards your neck. The passion stews as he sucks your tits, all the while lunging laxly into you.  

With an obscene pop!, Jaemin removes himself from your nubs.

“Ready for the last round?”

His fast thrusts, hitting you precisely in the best spot, cloud your already weakened logic, deterring you from making any response.    

Perspiration is blatant on both individuals. For him, his forehead glistens gorgeously with his damp hair. For you, the back of your bent knees are gluing together. Your bodies are about to pass out, but you both persevere until the end.

As you convulse and perish together in beautiful agony, coincidentally enough, the bulbs in the room and in the streets leap to radiance.

Together, you collapse onto the bed side by side, panting heavily and laughing.

“Told you we weren’t going to die.”

You turn your head to see Jaemin looking at you with a cheeky grin. In retaliation, you stick your tongue out.

By nighttime, it’s finally stopped snowing outside. However, the streets won’t be cleared until morning, at the very least.

But... you’re surprisingly okay with that.

In a turn of events, the sex inexplicably makes the two of you warm up to each other. There still is targeted banter and tension between you, lingering from before, but it’s less hostile and more playful.

During a fancy Christmas Eve dinner of microwavable pizzas, you poke fun at each other’s majors and discuss your respective hobbies in depth, especially his love for photography. Jaemin even asks if he can take a picture of you, claiming that the kitchen lighting actually looks nice on someone for once.  

“Is that how you collect the memory of your one-night stands? Instead of hanging their skins in your closet, you sweet-talk your way and keep all the photos of them?” you joke, referring to the video call from yesterday night. It feels like an eternity ago, but snowstorms tend to do that.

He chuckles behind the camera as he snaps a photo of you scrunching your face cutely.

“Yeah, but you’re the first one who has clothes on,” he says, glancing down at the photo on the camera roll.  

“Ugh, gross,” you cringe and take a sip of tea.

Jaemin doesn’t add anything further. He leaves out the fact that he never keeps any traces of his one-night stands, that you’re the first girl he’s taken a picture of in a while.  

After a few hours of more talking and even some gaming with one another, sleep is much needed. Jaemin offers an extra toothbrush and a sweater and pair of sweats to sleep in. You’re facing each other on his bed, noses almost touching.  

“It’s been a while since I haven’t had sex with a girl before I slept next to them,” he whispers, adjusting himself comfortably. The side of his face rests on his piled hands. “It’s kinda nice.”

You cover your mouth as you yawn, then lay your hand back under your head, reflecting the same position as Jaemin.

“You know, it might be my sleepiness talking, but maybe you’re not the worst person in the world to be stuck with during a snowstorm.”

A lovely chuckle echoes in your ear. “I’m glad you’ve had a change of heart.”

After a few moments, your eyes are fluttering to a close until he softly calls out your name.

“Hm?” you stir awake, but not by much.

“Do you...?”

Jaemin doesn’t know what’s gotten to him, doesn’t quite understand why the defences he built for so long are crumbling down in only a day of knowing you.  

And yet, something urges him to give it a chance.

Blowing out a shaky sigh, he anxiously intertwines his fingers with yours. You hum softly at the action and a small smile blooms on your face.

“Do you want to go on a date with me sometime?”

“Hm?” His question doesn’t take you aback as much as you would be if you were fully awake. But even in your drowsy state, you have quips in hand. “Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, wants to go on a date?”

“Yeah,” he replies gently, brushing your loose hair out of your face.

Another yawn. “I thought you said you don’t want feelings and relationships and all that shit.”

His fingers trace your pretty jawline and shrugs. “One date doesn’t mean we’re going to be in a relationship, I’m sure you know that.”

You pause for a good two seconds, but the two seconds feel like forever for Jaemin.

“Mmm, fine. One date, just one.” You barely hold up your pointer finger. “And only because it’s Christmas tomorrow. ‘Tis the season to be giving...”

Relief washes over Jaemin in the form of a smile. Embracing the blatant feeling in his chest this time, he plants a light kiss on your nose and wishes you sweet dreams, even though you’ve already fallen soundly asleep.  

Sunlight pours over your eyes on Christmas morning.

Déjà vu peculiarly creeps up on you, but the only thing that’s the same as yesterday is waking up in Jaemin’s bed.

He’s next to you this time, deep in his peaceful slumber, instead of waiting for you to leave by his doorframe. The snow has finally stopped, and you think you hear the faint noises of snow plows outside. You inhale deeply and also notice the faded aroma from all the scented candles from last night.

The scenes of yesterday flicker across your mind. The incredible sex. The talking. The dinner. The interlocking of his fingers with yours.

The date he asked you out on.

You stare at him, watching him sleep with a sense of content.

Turning your body, you routinely check your phone, which is charging beside his. You have a slew of Merry Christmas texts from several chats and a few private messages from your friends.

Your attention falls on Jaemin’s phone when it lights up with a notification, likely texts from his friends and family too.

But that’s not what you’re focusing on.

Your heart sinks at the sight of his lockscreen.

It’s a picture of him and a girl kissing.

A twinge emerges in your chest and twists harder and harder.

Jaemin being a fuckboy, you can respect. People can do whatever they want with their lives.

But to cheat?

That’s unforgivable, and a true sin if there ever was one.

You scramble to dash out of there, careful not to make any noises in fear of waking Jaemin up. However, Jaemin’s sensitive to the sounds of the front door, so he rouses awake. His eyes flit open, noticing how you’re gone. He then sees his phone blowing up and adds two and two together.

With his phone in hand, Jaemin rushes to get on a coat and stuffs his feet into his boots, not giving a shit that he’s wearing his thin pajamas in the coldness. He’s bounding down the flight of stairs and onto the bright, white wonderland of the streets.

He swivels his head and catches sight of you almost past down the block, slowly trekking through the thick snow. Jaemin sprints, as much as he can, and hops towards you.  

He yells your name, making others on the street turn, but you don’t. You continue forward without looking back.

“Wait! I can explain!”

You’re trying to gain speed, but cardio isn’t your friend. Thankfully for Jaemin, it’s a close friend for him.

“I don’t wanna fucking hear it, Jaemin,” you grunt, hearing the rapid crunching of his shoes coming closer. “Get lost.”

“No, listen to me for a second.”

The boyish man grasps you by the arm and turns you around. You throw his arm away from you and he holds his hands in the air, letting you know that he respects your space. He drops his hands and sees that you’re seething, even worse than you were when he kicked you out yesterday.

“How are you going to explain your lockscreen with you kissing your fucking girlfriend?! Hm?”

“Ex,” he pants in clarification. “Ex-girlfriend.”

Your eyebrows mesh together in utter confusion.

“Okay? That doesn’t make me feel any better, knowing that you’re still hung up on your ex.”

Jaemin shakes his head and rakes a hand through his hair. You note the large clouds he exhales and how he’s barely wearing any clothes. A tinge of sympathy passes through you, wanting to give him some of your clothes for extra layers, but you smother that quickly in your state of rage.  

“I’m not hung up on her. Remember you asked me yesterday why I don’t want girls to stay the next morning?”

You cock your head impatiently, as if saying, “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t want to attach myself to girls. I can’t. I...”

He lowers his head to one side. Shutting his eyes, a long puff emits from his mouth.

“She cheated on me.”

The snow plows in the distance can’t compare to the pumping of your heart in your ears. All the feelings you felt in the last day, but especially in the last fifteen minutes, jumble together in your head, making you feel uneasy and unsure of what to exactly feel or comprehend of the situation.  

But you do know one thing, despite the fact that you two barely know each other, the pained look on his face is real—that this is the untold story behind his ways.  

Jaemin lifts his head and holds out his phone for emphasis. “The lockscreen serves as a constant reminder that dating and feelings will and can fuck me up.”

Carefully, he steps a little closer to you and slowly cups your face in his shaking hands. You don’t pull away nor is there the same anger from moments before, so he daintily runs his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Until you showed me yesterday that maybe I’m willing to give it all another shot. Risk it all for fuck knows what, but you make it look like it’s worth it.”

He continues his ramble after adjusting some of your hair from the ongoing breeze.

“Sure, it’s Christmas today, but I don’t want you to say yes to going on a date with me just because it is. I want you to say yes because maybe you like spending time with me just as much as I like to spend it with you.”

You’re completely disoriented—your eyes are shifting everywhere but his eyes and your lips are quivering with no words coming out. He sighs understandingly. 

“Look, I know you’re probably having second thoughts and you don’t have to give me an answer right now. Think on it for as much time as you need, but I want you to know that I genuinely like you and I want to go on an actual date with you.”

He peels his hand away from your face and raises it into the air as if taking an oath.

“I, Na Jaemin, the notorious fuckboy and serial one-night stander, will devote to monogamy once again if it means I can date you.”

His hands grab yours, kisses the back of them, and then he presses one kiss onto your icy cheek prior to walking away.

“Merry Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Later that evening at your large family’s Christmas party, you take another dreadful gulp of your wine.

It’s the happy holiday season, but why does everyone feel the need to stick their nose in your dating life? Well, really, a lack there of.

“Why are you still single?” Layers of their voices resound the same question in your head. You take another swig.

Potential unsaid answers that you kept to yourself fly around as you swish the drink in your glass.  

Because you choose to be.

Okay, not really, but it’s the easiest answer.  

Because you haven’t found the right guy to get you back in the game.

What does that even mean? What makes the right guy even right?

The right guy? It’s someone who makes you laugh, someone who gives as good as they can take it, someone who wants you just as much as you do.

The cogs move in your head as you take one more sip before you finally come to the conclusion—  

Because you didn’t find the right guy until last night.

Despite the mess of today and yesterday morning, you realize that Jaemin is... actually sort of sweet. Annoying, yes, but he keeps you on your toes. It’s a plus that he’s easy on the eyes, but it’s a bigger plus that he’s even easier to talk to.

And if he can find it in his scorched heart to trust you, you can find it in your heart to trust him too.  

You quickly say your good-byes to your family and let them know you have other plans with friends tonight.

As the Uber rolls up to his apartment building, you realize you probably should’ve messaged him on Tinder, but it’s worth a shot to see if he’s home. Anyways, impulsiveness is a controlling entity, as evident from your Christmas Eve Eve’s adventure.

And in retrospect, perhaps Jaemin was the perfect pick of the crop after all.  

Someone’s entering the building and lets you in behind them. You take the stairs two at a time and hear booming music coming from his floor. At first, you assume it’s from other apartments, but it’s all coming from one—his.

Without a thought, your knuckle taps the door.  

A handsome figure that’s definitely not Jaemin opens the door. Behind him, you see a group of young men scattered around the living room, and some have a few girls tucked under their arms.

The man eyes you up and down with a spark in his eye. He’s not Jaemin, but he surely reminds you of him.

“And who might you be?” he asks.

“Who’s at the door, Jeno?” An unknown male voice hollers in a high pitch from the couch. He’s one of the guys with a girl attached to him.

You blink. “Uhm, I’m—”

“She’s with me!” Jaemin shoves the flirty stranger aside and tugs you by your wrist, making headway to his bedroom. He flips the light switch on and the door clicks shut.

“What are you doing h—”

You cut him off with a kiss.

An innocent one, at first, with hints of alcohol on each other’s lips. Your arms wrap around the other and the passion increases with the mingling of your tongues, each party tasting and confirming the specific drinks you both consumed tonight.  

Jaemin forces himself to pull away and presses his forehead against yours. “Did you just come all the way here to kiss me, or...?”

“Maybe I came over to ask... if I can stay with you for another night?” you playfully ask, fingers intertwining behind the nape of his neck.  

He chuckles heartily. His fingers sink into the sides of your waist. “Is my dick that great? The sex with me that amazing?”

“Mmm, that’s definitely a benefit,” you agree, fluttering your nose against his. “But I want more than that—“ You poke a finger to his chest. “—I want the man behind the dick.”

Your gazes converge, bringing you together as one.

“I want to go on that date with you. I want you, Jaemin.”

He flashes a megawatt smile that could compete with a million Christmas lights, but it fades suddenly and you’re unsure why he seems like he’s about to bawl his eyes out.

“That’s so beautiful, I might cry.” He brings a finger to his eye, pretending to shed a tear.

Oh, yeah—you’re definitely going to need to hire someone to constantly shove your eyeballs back into your sockets if you’re going to date Jaemin.

“Oh, shut up,” you whisper, yanking him in for another kiss.

Three dates later, including a memorable New Year’s Eve, you finally decide to rid of the Tinder app for good.

With his arm around you on his living room couch, Jaemin glances over your shoulder.

“Really? You’re finally deleting your Tinder?”

You snort in disbelief. “That’s gold, coming from the King of Tinder himself. When did you delete?”

He turns to face the television and shrugs coolly.

“Maybe I didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” you nod, eyes still on your phone.

“Nah, I’m kidding, I did.”    

You sharply turn your head.

“No way. When?” you press with narrow eyes.  

A shy smile emerges on Jaemin’s face as he picks his pants over his thighs.

“On the night of Christmas Eve, after you agreed to go on a date with me.”

[kindlespice]

late ass replies but this time i have so much stuff to reply to that i actually need to split things up into categories :))))

also i apologize if any of this is no longer relevant / i am of absolutely no help :)))

otherwise, if you’ve asked a reshade related question...uh... sometime between christmas and now LMAO then it’s probably here!

nonny :

Hello Mikayla, I hope you're having a lovely year so far. I just wanted to ask this about the dove preshade (1st question here) kindlespice/tumblr/com/post/632163463099269120/ft-reshade-questions-a-theme-question-nonny i'm having the same problem, i have a new computer and after installing the game and it's last 3 updates and then the reshade it's not looking the same and it sucks bc i know how it's supposed to look (1)

the shadows are not as noticeable, the transparency between the walls is not there and the blur is gone (i have miiko´s ghibli's cloud override but i had that on my old computer and the reshade still looked normal) idk if it's the game or the reshade but it sucks bc i love how the original looks like anyways it would be really helpfull if you could answer. Take care and stay safe :))!!! (2/2)

hi hi! thanks for the kind message and i hope your year is going well! if I had to take a guess, I would say that maybe some of your settings in-game have changed? I would double check and make sure you’ve got edge smoothing off, and you could try turning off post-processing as well (im not ACTUALLY sure if turning off post processing does anything but it’s worth a shot!) otherwise i would try removing the preset and redownloading it? maybe the settings of the preset got jacked up and you can fix it by re-installing. let me know if this helps! if not, then you can always dm me so i can see pics of your situation!

nonny:

Hi! Sorry if this is worded odd but I just downloaded your Leif reshade and have completed all the steps, however there is still this blur over the screen which isn't the best for game play. If you could help explain how to toggle it for gameplay/cas that would be great :)

hi hi! the blur is the DoF (depth-of-field). it’s used for taking screenshots and is supposed to make the background all blurry. to disable it, you can use the hotkey shift-2 or open the reshade menu and manually untick the DoF option!

nonny:

Hi, i just installed the latest version of the dove preset and my game is dark. It is the MXAO that is doing it but i don't have the preprocessor definitions box. How do i fix it?

hello! im assuming you have a 4.0 version of reshade if you can’t find the box. in this version, it’s a blue tab called “Edit Global Preprocessor Definitions” beneath all the toggleable effects. if you have an earlier version, it should be under the “settings” tab at the top though.

nonny:

Hello!! Thank you so much for your work! I have a really quick question - so I am trying to work with the reshade and got it all set but when I play around with it, my objects don’t look “rounded”. If that makes sense. Other people who use it, their objects look rounded and smooth and just different (I have an image for reference) but mine just looks like the normal objects just different colors. Is there something I’m missing or doing something wrong? I have all the settings correct. :)

hi hi! hmm, im not really sure what that could be... probably something to do with mxao bc it’s always something to do with mxao lol. I would double check to make sure you have this line in your preprocessor definitions: RESHADE_DEPTH_INPUT_IS_REVERSED = 0 this line should equal 0 for the mxao to work properly. that might give you the “rounded” look. if this doesn’t fix it for you then you should go ahead and dm me so i can see what the game looks like!

nonny:

Hey, I tried your Dove preset but my game just can't handle it, it's pretty old and I just have to uninstall the reshade (even though I really loved the effect) but I'm scared to do anything in the Game folder or delete anything. Could you please help me with what to remove? I'm scared to break my game if I delete something that souldn't be deleted :( I tried searching for this in your WCIF and reshade questions and couldn't find an answear. Please help

hello! sorry to hear that your game can’t handle the preset :( here’s to hoping you can get an upgrade in the future! anyhow, to uninstall; i believe you only need to remove 

ReShade - config settings (it’ll have a little paper w/ gear next to it)

d3d9.dll - application extension  (it’ll have a little paper w/ gears ON it)

d3d9 - text document (little paper w/ lines icon)

reshade-shaders - folder

your reshade presets - config settings (if you remove the files above first though, you won’t be able to use/see these in-game)

that should uninstall reshade from your game! and don’t worry, if you accidentally remove something you didn’t want to, you can “verify your game files” through origin and that should restore any missing files. unless you.. *ahem*... acquired your game through other means... in which case be careful XD

@maddybarbz

Omg I don't know if you are active or not but I'm having some problems. So I downloaded the 3.0.8 and it was going smoothly but I loaded the game it said that magic bloom had issues.

i don’t know if im active either. probably not tbh XD but im here now so here ya go! i would recommend deleting the shaders you’re having problems with and then putting back the 3.0.8 shaders you downloaded. it’s really easy for things to break / be incompatible during the install so your best bet is always to delete the ones giving you trouble and put the new ones in.

@kaiamikulka

hi! I’ve been jealously stalking your page for a while, because I’m in love with the dove preset, but I’m very confused about how to download it. My computer keeps marking it as a virus, so i was kinda scared to download it. and when i finally did, it didn’t show up in my game. could you walk me through how to download it?(i have a pc laptop)

Thank you so much,

Kaia☺️☺️❤️❤️❤️

hi hi! lol im flattered for the jealousy stalk! anyway im not sure why it wouldn’t be showing up in game? unless you were so excited that you forgot to install reshade with it? i have a video here explaining how to install a recent version of reshade and set up dove with it so you can check that out here !

@bojanastarcevic​

Hello, I've been trying to fix the dove reshade for a long time, but the new version just doesn't support it, and the old version spoils the game and sometimes it won't even start ... Would you consider trying to make the same preset version for the latest reshade version? I'll be very grateful because your preset is the most beautiful I have ever seen?! 😘😂Don't know if you still play of work on your game but like I said if you have time to try make new one couse everyone was looking for it!!! 😉😘😘😘

hi hi! i totally understand not using the earlier versions--these later ones are soo much more user friendly!--but i’ve been able to get the preset to work with later versions (4.7.0 is the latest i’ve tried though) and it looks, if not the same, then very close to the original. I have a video here explaining how i did it if you’re really eager to have it

in the future i guess i could try to re-release the preset? i can’t give you an eta bc im lazy and i fall off the face of the earth regularly, but i do think it would help to have updated instructions right on the face of the download. 

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, lalelilolusworld!

For @lalelilolusworld​. Hey secret giftee, I’m so happy I got to write a little something for you. I really appreciate you and I’m glad we got talking because you’re a ray of sunshine in my day. Enjoy <3

Read On AO3

*****

Magnus trudges along the basketball court, his head bent forward and raindrops sliding down the side of his face. The campus is painted gray by the rain and the cold drops of water feel like weary tears on his cheeks. He fears his makeup is running with it.

Two students are playing basketball on the concrete, the thumps of the ball bouncing back and forth like thunder in the rain as they goad each other on. It’s a comic sight, the tall, dark haired one taunting his smaller, fairer counterpart. They move swiftly around the basketball hoop, shadows among the ever-falling water.

Magnus can’t see their faces through the rain, and doesn’t see the car coming either.

The car flashes by, lifting a wave of mud and water from a blocked road drain. One second to the next, and Magnus is completely drenched, covered in dirty water. He shakes his head, sending drops of too cold, sticky water into the rain and stares in disbelief at the driver’s face, unrecognizable through the windshield. The car disappears around the corner in spite of Magnus’ angry yelling as he runs after it.

“Come back here you-” he pants, and eventually stops running.

Magnus’ feet hurt, his high heels feel uncomfortable even to walk in, and he knows his already sheer shirt is now completely see-through. The blue fabric sticks to his chest, as do his olive pants. Magnus glances at the bold, gold and blue flowers along his legs, disappointed to see his outfit ruined by the rain.

He didn’t bring a coat with him today, for the sake of fashion.

Magnus sighs deeply and rubs his arms and shoulders, trying to warm up as he starts walking again. He’s shivering already and his messenger bag bumps against his hip, all too cheery after what just happened.

“Hey! Wait-” someone calls after him.

Magnus stops, glancing over his shoulder and blinking a few times to try and see the other student better. It’s Tall, Dark and Handsome from earlier, short on breath from intense exercise still. The stranger is hunched over some sort of bundle of leather and wool, keeping it away from the rain.

“You should take this. You’re going to catch a cold otherwise,” the dark haired man offers.

Magnus takes the black and gold letter jacket, grateful. It’s extremely romantic, and he can’t help but smile a little as he glances at the leather bomber. There are a few basketball pins at the front, and apparently the stranger’s name is Alec. Magnus fumbles with the jacket, catching sight of the other boy’s last name before finding the sleeves and putting it on.

“Lightwood?” Magnus reads aloud.

“I’m Alec,” Lightwood introduces himself. “I have three siblings and we’re all into sports so you might see it around a lot…”

Alec trails off, running a hand through his messy curls of damp, brown hair. He looks shy, not quite meeting Magnus’ eyes, nor looking at Magnus’ chest through the wet fabric of the button-up shirt. It makes Magnus smile as he melts into the warmth of the jacket. He steps closer to the other student, sparing a glance at the damp tank top sticking to the strong lines of Alec’s muscular chest.

“I’m Magnus. Thank you.”

He can feel the rain dripping down his forehead, flattening the artfully spiked streaks of purple and blue strands of hair. Magnus doesn’t look his best, he knows, yet Alec’s breath catches in his throat as he smiles back to Magnus.

“Can I… can I get your number? So that you can give the jacket back later?”

Magnus has a feeling Alec is not even hitting on him on purpose.

It’s a nice change of pace from Magnus’ usually quite flirty encounters. He doesn’t mind per se, since he gets a lot of phone numbers and makes new friends this way. Magnus’ closest friends were never interested in flirting with him, however.

Their loss.

He grabs his phone from his bag, wiping water off the screen to send Alec a text. He’s adding a basketball emoji next to Alec’s name when another message comes in, from a guy he doesn’t even remember the face of. Magnus grimaces at the sight of a kitten playing with a blue bow. This is definitely not what the guy meant to send.

“Cute, is that your cat?” Alec asks, peering at the screen.

A nervous laugh breaks through Magnus’ lips and he shakes his head, pocketing the phone. Alec doesn’t press, a curling lock of hair falling in his eyes and Magnus startles when he feels a drop of water fall on his nose. It’s still raining and Magnus is sopping wet.

“Thanks again, I’ll text you when I’m home,” Magnus says, grinning.

Alec nods and Magnus takes a step back, pointing behind his shoulder because he’s not quite ready to turn around yet. Alec watches him with a gentle smile, his eyes shining through the rain, until Magnus finds the strength to look away.

*****

Magnus goes to take off the letter jacket upon getting home, but a glance in the mirror makes him pause. It’s not in the same register as his outfit, but Magnus thinks it might look quite cute with something more laid back. Who would have thought? Magnus nods to himself and lays the jacket out to dry.

He jumps in the shower to warm up, washing his hair while he’s at it and thinks back on his encounter with Alec. The water is running hot and Magnus bites his lip, smiling. He gets out of the bathroom with a cloud of condensation and puts on more comfortable clothes, grabbing his phone as he does so.

Magnus takes one last look at the picture of the cat before blocking the number.

He’s not interested in unsolicited dick pics. Going Catmando is not prominent enough, in Magnus’ opinion. The app turns dick pics into pictures of kittens and he recommends it to every person he knows that might need it. Speaking of which…

Cat: I got a dick pic. Again. As if I didn’t see enough dicks everyday.

Magnus: Darling, how many times do I have to tell you? Go Catmando! That will make one less dick for you to deal with while we change the world for the better and teach guys not to send unsolicited dick pics!

Magnus can almost hear Catarina’s sigh and wishes her good luck with her shift at the hospital. He texts Alec next, asking when they can meet up for Magnus to give the jacket back.

Perhaps he’ll snatch a date as well, Magnus surprises himself wishing. Alec did not strike him as shy, but the bubbles that keep coming up and disappearing as the basketball player types his texts speak of hesitation and thinking over what to write for too long.

Magnus: We could go out for a drink while we’re at it ;)

Alec: Sounds fun.

Magnus giggles, sprawling on his bed to keep talking with Alec. The other boy is playing hard to get, or trying to play it cool at least. Magnus wants nothing more than to slip through the cracks and throw Alec off.

Fairy lights glow warmly along the wall, lighting up familiar faces on the many pictures Magnus stuck there. He glances at the closest, Cat smiles in her scrubs and Ragnor hides behind an ancient looking book.

Magnus: You know what’s fun? Roller skating. Meet you at the rink ;)

He sends the time and place to Alec, rolling on his back with a sigh.

Magnus’ loft is small, with too many books stacked on top of each other and clothes thrown all around. He loves it. He spies a picture of Raphael frowning above his desk, and frowns right back at the young genius. Raphael graduated from high school early and he has the looks as well as the brains. No need to be condescending, Magnus wants to tell him, but this is only a picture and Alec has replied.

Alec: Okay.

Magnus grins.

*****

The roller skating rink is Magnus’ favorite place in town. He loves the retro style, neon tubes, bright lights and music blasting from the loudspeakers like the eighties are coming back to bite the skaters in the ass. Magnus knows quite a lot about that particular feeling, because roller derby gets dirty most of the time.

He meets Alec at the entrance, “Hi!”

“Hey,” Alec replies, his voice rising slightly when he meets Magnus’ eyes.

It’s endearing and Magnus leads the way towards the skates, holding his own pair in his hands already. They’re bright pink with glittery wings on the sides. Alec follows, looking around and Magnus is pretty sure he catches the other boy staring, undoubtedly appreciative of Magnus’ outfit.

Magnus is quite proud of the golden necklaces resting on his dark tank top. He tucked the shirt into his denim shorts, throwing the letter jacket on top. Magnus also catches sight of a smile on Alec’s face before Alec gets a hold of himself. Alec hesitates in front of the shelf containing his size of skates, having obviously no idea of which pair to choose.

“I recommend the purple ones,” Magnus offers helpfully, ready to go.

Alec moves away from a grim pair of black skates with a bashful smile and takes the purple one instead. They’ll go really well with his dark jeans and hoodie, in Magnus’ opinion. Alec sits down to put the skates on and Magnus makes a show of bending to tighten the laces of his own skates. He glances at Alec behind him, winking when he finds Alec staring again.

“Come on, show me what you got,” Magnus teases, darting forward.

He doesn’t go far, and Alec catches up easily, “Do I have to pass some kind of test to get my jacket back?”

“That wouldn’t be fair,” Magnus shrugs. “My team won the last three championships.”

Alec gives him an impressed look and Magnus preens, spinning around to skate backwards and look at the other boy. The rink is pretty empty, so people give them a wide berth as they skate around.

“Your siblings are into sports too?” Magnus asks Alec, knowing this is a topic they can broach.

“Yeah, Isabelle does gymnastics, Jace plays soccer, and Max is a swimmer.”

Magnus straightens with interest, because Alec’s voice is higher when he talks about Max, pride seeping through Alec’s baritone. Magnus doesn’t dare ask about Alec’s brother though, and a moment later Alec speaks up again.

“We’re so proud of him for entering so many competitions and winning.”

Alec smiles brightly and Magnus nods, and inside he feels fuzzy, because Alec’s support for his little brother is heart-warming. Magnus smiles at Alec, trying to express his admiration, and Alec must notice Magnus’ interest, because he speaks over the music playing in the background.

“Max has a severe mobility impairment,” he adds.

They keep skating and the synthesizer goes crazy so Magnus swivels around, moving with the music. Alec is smiling still, so Magnus follows the other boy’s lead and keeps talking without missing a beat.

“Are they younger than you?”

“Yeah. Isabelle and Jace are two years younger than me, and Max is our baby, I’m almost ten years older than him,” Alec replies, grinning.

“You sound close to him though,” Magnus comments, spinning around.

They skate side by side, chatting about Alec’s siblings and Magnus’ roller derby team. Alec is easy to talk to, a good listener, but he needs a little coaxing to talk about himself. Magnus corners him off to the side after a while, grinning when Alec leans back against the fence and simply stares at him when Magnus hovers close.

Magnus is about to press the palm of his hand to Alec’s chest when he changes his mind and reaches out to hold onto the other boy’s waist instead. Magnus tilts his head up for a kiss, but Alec ducks his head, swallowing quickly. Definitely shy, Magnus muses, and moves back.

“What do you say we get out of here?” he asks.

Alec nods and looks disappointed as they go sit down to remove their skates. It’s refreshing, Magnus’ dates don’t usually take their time like this and neither does he. Magnus is a people person, he likes putting himself out there and meeting new people. It’s the reason he’s the co-captain of the Brooklyn Hellhounds.

Magnus is easy to talk to and people aren’t intimidated to reach out to him. Or to send him unsolicited dick pics, the perks of leaving his number on the team’s website and some promotional posters.

Magnus bites his lip, deciding to let Alec set the pace, and wraps himself tighter in the black and gold letter jacket on their way out. He doesn’t miss Alec’s appreciative glance and struts forward, looking at the other boy over his shoulder.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” Alec hesitates. “I know this place you might like…” he trails off.

“Lead the way!”

Magnus keeps close to Alec and their arms brush as they near Taki’s Diner. The restaurant is old-fashioned, with a disgusting layer of grease over the table that Alec hurries to wipe down before letting Magnus take a seat. Red and blue ads stare them down and the menu is handwritten, with a home-made milkshake recipe that makes Magnus smile.

Toffee and vanilla with a popcorn topping sounds perfect.

Alec doesn’t even look at the menu and the manager himself strides up to them with a grin, wrapping an apron around his waist. The man — Luke, his name tag reads — is way too obvious when he gives Magnus a look, deciding whether he approves of Alec’s date or not, but eventually winks at Alec. Luke adjusts the apron and grabs a notepad to take their orders.

“The usual for you, Son?” he asks Alec, who nods. “And for you, young man?”

“I’ll try the home-made milkshake,” Magnus replies graciously.

Luke beams and jots it down, sauntering away to prepare their orders. Magnus takes the opportunity to go around the table and sit down next to Alec. It feels less formal this way, and Alec tenses briefly before coming to the same conclusion and relaxing slightly. His eyes trail down the length of Magnus’ legs under the table when Magnus crosses them.

“What’s your major?” Magnus can’t help but grin when Alec startles.

“Engineering.”

“That’s very vague.”

“Civil Engineering,” Alec explains, and his eyes light up with laughter, “I want to work with architects, design bridges.”

“Well I’m glad, because if you meant electrical engineering I would have left on the spot,” Magnus teases him.

“Do you study electrical engineering?” Alec asks him.

Magnus gasps in fake horror, “No! Chemistry.”

Alec chuckles and Luke comes back with a plate of fries and a soda for Alec. Then, he places a glass overflowing with whipped cream in front of Magnus, who hurries to scoop a mouthful of the popcorn on top before it gets soggy. He sighs in delight at the explosion of flavors on his tongue.

“This is good,” he moans, leaning into Alec.

The basketball player picks at the fries between them, fire spreading on his cheeks and Magnus chuckles. He takes a sip of his milkshake before leaning his head on Alec’s shoulder with a sigh.

“So, a guy came up to me and looked ready to get into a fight with me because of the jacket. Jealous ex, or someone who can’t stand you?”

Alec chokes on a mouthful of soda, “What? Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

“Just kidding!” Magnus amends, touching Alec’s arm in an attempt to comfort him.

They stare at each other in silence and for a moment Magnus thinks he ruined everything. Then Alec puts his hand on Magnus’ knee, palm warm and surprisingly wide. Alec swallows quickly and locks eyes with Magnus, his thumb rubbing a circle onto Magnus’ naked thigh.

“You don’t have any exes to worry about.”

“Good,” Magnus breathes out, “So I can keep the jacket?”

Alec kisses him. His lips are rough over Magnus’, and the kiss is clumsy as Alec tries to take too much all at once, eager and impatient. Magnus misses him as soon as Alec moves back and chases after the engineering student, sliding a hand in Alec’s hair to take control of the kiss.

The wet slide of their lips is smoother this time, and Alec gasps as Magnus runs his tongue over Alec’s upper lip. The kiss tastes of sugar and a shiver runs down Magnus’ spine in response as he scoots closer, throwing his leg over Alec’s.

Magnus sighs into the kiss when Alec sucks on his bottom lip, careful although his hand slides onto Magnus’ thigh. Magnus doesn’t mind the feeling of calloused hands on his skin, his own fingers curling into Alec’s hair, but Alec catches hold of himself and breaks away again, chest heaving.

“You can keep the jacket.”

*****

Magnus invites Alec to his next bout. They struggle to find time to see each other in person with their fast approaching finals, so it makes sense to have Alec there. The Brooklyn Hellhounds are fairly popular for a roller derby team, and it’s nice to see a familiar face in the crowd too.

It’s not that Magnus doesn’t know the people that come to the bouts, but rather that he tends to avoid some of them. It’s what happens when he receives unsolicited dick pics from supporters. Magnus doesn’t want anything else to do with them.

It’s easy enough to move away from one of the supporters that sent him a dick pic recently (it turned into a cute orange kitten), and Magnus moves along the neon lights around the rink, to the rhythm of upbeat music.

He skates towards Alec with a grin, skidding to a stop in front of the basketball player. Magnus tugs on the hood of Alec’s sweatshirt, grinning, and Alec lays a hand on Magnus’ waist, hesitant.

“Hey,” Alec breathes out.

“Hi.”

Magnus knows he looks different than the last time they saw each other. The High Warlock of Brooklyn, Magnus’ persona, is a sight to behold, from the powerful flick of eyeliner around Magnus’ eyes to the deep crimson lipstick he wears. Magnus’ fishnet tights disappear beneath leather shorts and the plunging neckline of his shirt leaves little to the imagination, if the splatter of glitter on Magnus’ collarbones didn’t attract enough attention to his naked chest.

“I believe this calls for a good luck kiss,” Magnus suggests slyly.

“Are you sure? Your makeup,” Alec asks, frowning.

Magnus nods eagerly, leaning in and Alec chuckles, pecking him carefully on the lips. It’s sweet, in a way, that Alec pays attention to Magnus’ makeup, but it makes Magnus pout. He grabs a handful of the engineering student’s hoodie, bringing him closer.

“I know I don’t need much luck but that was barely a kiss. Do it properly,” he smirks against Alec’s lips.

Alec wraps his arms around Magnus’ waist and sweeps him off his skates this time. Magnus moans into Alec’s mouth, kissing back just as hard, panting by the time they break apart. Alec’s lips have taken a slightly pink tinge, and Magnus sends him one last kiss before rolling off, running his thumb around his mouth to remove any unflattering stains.

The Brooklyn Hellhounds win the bout.

*****

Alec is sweet and has checked in on Magnus everyday, even offering to study together when Magnus lacked the motivation. The basketball player had taken Magnus’ refusal well, both of them very aware that they would get little studying done if they met up.

They text in between studying instead. They chat for a while, avoiding the topic of their finals.

Magnus: I’ve always wanted a cat

Alec: I knew you were a cat person!

Magnus: Are you? ;)

Alec: Guess you’ll have to find out…

Magnus grins, a sappy smile he doesn’t bother to hide. Nobody can see him in his loft anyway and Raphael’s judgmental scowl from the picture on the wall doesn’t feel half as intense as it usually does in real life.

Alec grows more and more confident every time they speak, to Magnus’ delight.

He likes this playful side of Alec and cannot wait to finally meet up for coffee. A proper date is long overdue, although Magnus rather liked their outings so far. He has taken to wearing the letter jacket a lot and his friends have noticed, but none of them asked questions about the last name between Magnus’ shoulder blades.

*****

Naturally, Magnus shows up to Alec’s game next. The sound there is deafening, the arena is so crowded with Shadowhunters supporters that Magnus struggles to see the other team’s supporters. He’s wearing Alec’s jacket and walks down to the court, lingering there and wondering if he’ll get to talk to Alec before the game.

The team runs out to a wave of cheers and Magnus catches sight of Alec’s tall frame, his dark jersey standing out against his pale skin. Alec looks around and beams when he spots Magnus, jogging up to him. Magnus feels like the crowd has disappeared for a moment and slides his hands in the back pockets of his jeans, smiling.

“How do you feel?”

“Good. We trained hard for this game,” Alec replies, stepping closer.

“No need for a good luck kiss then?”

Magnus is teasing, but Alec pecks him on the lips without a warning and grins, stepping away immediately. His teammates are getting ready and Magnus watches Alec go, lips tingling with the ghost of a kiss still.

He has already seen Alec play once, but this is different.

Alec seems galvanized among his teammates and the roar of their supporters only spurs him on. Magnus jumps to his feet every time the shot clock is about to run out, deeply involved in the game, and chants with the rest of the Shadowhunters’ supporters to celebrate their victory.

Alec sprints across the court and climbs up the stairs to grace Magnus with a victorious kiss. He reeks of sweat and his jersey sticks to Magnus’ clothes as Alec holds onto the lapels of the letter jacket to keep Magnus close. Magnus would not change it for anything, even sliding a hand beneath Alec’s black and gold jersey to feel his strong back, wondering if Alec has a six pack.

“So you’re more into celebratory kisses?” Magnus breathes out when they finally part.

“Mostly into you,” Alec blurts out, blushing.

*****

Magnus flops down on his bed with a sigh. Finals are over, now the only thing left to do is wait. He fumbles for his phone and finds Alec’s last message, glossy lips stretching into a grin. It’s time to plan their next date.

Magnus: Can’t wait to see you again

Alec takes a while to reply sometimes, but not today. Magnus settles more comfortably on his bed as he reads the message, trying to think of somewhere to go, or something to do with the engineering student.

Alec: Should we meet up tonight?

Magnus: Definitely! I don’t really want to go out though…

Alec: Why not? You like going out

Magnus: Well, I’d rather keep you to myself

It’s true, Magnus has never been alone with Alec and he wants to know what the basketball player is like when it’s just the two of them. Alec is bound to enjoy it more too, shy like he is, so Magnus is surprised he hasn’t agreed yet.

Alec:: Yeah? What for?

Magnus smirks at that and sits up, snapping a selfie while he’s at it. He wore Alec’s letter jacket once again, with ripped jeans. His hair is messed up from running his hands through it all afternoon and Magnus’ makeup consisted mostly in mascara and eyeliner.

Magnus: You’d get all this just for yourself, plus we could order take out, cuddle and watch a movie together.

Alec takes longer to reply this time, so Magnus busies himself tidying his loft, but jogs back to his bed when he hears the notification of a new message. He smiles at the sight of a text from Alec. Magnus hurries to open it, and promptly drops the phone as soon as his eyes land on a tabby kitten with big blue eyes running in the grass.

This can’t be, not from Alec.

How ironic is this, Magnus muses painfully. He told Alec how much he likes cats and now, Going Catmando turned a very unsolicited, very disappointing dick pic into a kitten. He blames himself almost immediately for expecting Alec to be any different. They kissed on the first date after all, and Alec nearly groped Magnus after winning his basketball game. Magnus should have expected the dick pic sooner or later.

He wipes his eyes angrily when he realizes he’s crying. Magnus is disappointed and it hurts more than getting in a fight, in his opinion, because there is no apologizing for this. Magnus glances at the kitten, quite the cutie this one, and throws his phone to the other side of the bed with a hiccup.

The picture feels like a slap, and Magnus regrets even accepting the letter jacket from Alec when they first met. He should have known, who would bother giving their jacket to a stranger without ulterior motives?

Magnus’ phone lights up with another message, a picture again, and Magnus turns his back on the screen. He doesn’t want any more cat pictures. Maybe he should keep the jacket, just to spite Alec. He could pretend to be a crazy ex and ruin the engineering student’s future relationships. Magnus would probably do them a favor and spare them from unsolicited dick pics.

The messages keep coming and Magnus sits on the bed, wrapping his arms around his knees and hugging his legs close to his chest with an ugly sob. He ruined his makeup already, he thinks, and the messages won’t stop. How long will it take for Alec to understand that there is no point in sending more? Magnus is not interested.

At least they haven’t made plans for a date, Magnus won’t need to look at the kittens to cancel. Maybe it would have felt better to just bail on Alec though, and Magnus’ shoulders shake as he keeps crying.

He should ring Catarina, tell her all about it. They would vent their frustrations together, and maybe Cat would finally go Catmando too.

Eventually, Magnus’ phone goes quiet again. He breathes in deeply and reaches out carefully to pick it up, wiping his eyes with his other hand. It’s covered in black stains, mascara and eyeliner wasted over yet another boy.

Magnus clenches his jaw as he unlocks his phone, ready to block Alec and delete his number, but his eyes inevitably fall to the kittens. It’s always the same one, in various poses and Magnus frowns. In all the time he has been using Going Catmando, he never received the same kitten twice.

There are even familiar looking shoes in one of the pictures.

Magnus scrolls down against his better judgment and startles as Alec’s face comes into view, the kitten nuzzling against the basketball player’s neck. Magnus wonders idly how the kitten got up on Alec’s shoulder, then there is the dawning realization. He sends a message with trembling fingers, and hopes he won’t regret it.

Magnus: Do you have videos?

The reply takes a while, but the video comes in eventually and Magnus plays it a few times, not believing his eyes, or his ears for that matter. Alec rambles happily, scratching the tabby kitten’s ears. They’re outside still, and Alec seems to be sitting cross-legged in the grass. Other cats stroll about and Magnus even catches a meow in the distance.

“I volunteer at an animal shelter — don’t tell anyone — and this little one won’t leave me alone. Isn’t he cute? I called him Church!”

Magnus shifts on his bed. This really wasn’t a dick pic then? He exchanges a few more texts with Alec, tentatively inviting the shy boy to his place, like he suggested earlier.

The animal shelter must be closer than Magnus thought, because Alec shows up at his door before Magnus gets to fix his makeup. Alec’s eyes are blown wide at the sight and he steps inside, cupping Magnus’ face and running his thumbs gently under Magnus’ eyes.

“What happened? Your finals…”

“It’s nothing,” Magnus tries to brush him off.

When he turns to face the mirror, his make-up looks almost alright. Alec removed the ungraceful stains on Magnus’ cheeks and even managed to make some sort of smokey-eye out of Magnus’ ruined eyeliner.

“Isabelle ruined her make-up a lot when she was in high school,” Alec says sheepishly.

Magnus smiles and steps closer to Alec, leaning into him and wrapping his arms around Alec. He breathes in deeply until he feels brave enough to explain what happened and the ridiculous conclusions Magnus came to.

“Have you ever heard of the Going Catmando application?”

“No,” Alec tilts his head, pressing a kiss to Magnus’ hair. “What is it?”

“It turns dick pics into pictures of kittens instead.”

Alec chuckles at first, but stops almost immediately as he realizes what happened. Magnus sighs and goes to move back when Alec tightens his arms around Magnus and they’re left staring into each other’s eyes.

“You thought… oh. I wouldn’t do that,” Alec mumbles.

“I didn’t think you would, so it came as a shock.”

“Poor Church,” Alec mutters.

Magnus lets out a giggle and hides his face in the crook of Alec’s neck, making the other boy laugh too. It’s good to clear things up and Magnus can’t help but think that later down the line, when they know each other better, maybe he won’t mind very solicited dick pics.

Not yet though, and he hugs Alec in the meantime, listening to his heartbeat as they shake with laughter, together.

[bagof2780teeth]

The Story of My Crush and I

Yes, this is gonna be a very useless lesbian story about me and my crush.

No, I'm not exaggerating with uselessness. I really am that useless and that much of a clueless bottom.

So hold on tight and follow this rollercoaster of emotions (I might promise too much, but idc, just read it)

Oh, and also, I can and will advertise this as butch x femme bc she's like,,, the butch girl of your dreams and I am the emo femme.

We met because of a mutual friend (let's call her A). So A and I were online friends but luckily we only live like 1h by car or 2 by train apart so she invited me to her birthdays where I met her friends and also my crush. I think we knew right from the beginning that everyone (except for A) is gay. Same interests in music, tv shows, whatever, I get along with A's friends very well. Which is great. Obviously.

I don't know at what point I started crushing. But I knew that on the second birthday party of A I was invited to we were playing truth or dare and I got to choose who I want to kiss. I wanted to say my crush but I was too awkward so I got to kiss A herself and another of her friends. But not my crush. Later that year (it must have been the same year) A, my crush and I went to the cinema together to watch Love, Simon, it was summer. I lowkey hoped for some kind of arm/hand touching action, you know? But yeah, nothing happened, but crush and I always looked at each other when you could see some reference to panic at the disco (brendon urie our lord and saviour). That's that. About 1.5 years ago now.

I possibly had some kind of "relationship" of two weeks with a boy, I regret it. I never wanted my crush to know, bc I still wanted to have a chance. Yeaaaah, let's just not talk about it.

About one year ago, A set crush and me up on a "date" (apparently we both were complaining that we wanted a girlfriend.). I think it was around that time when I told A that I actually have a crush on my crush.

So we went to a Christmas market, we were just walking around, at some point we got chips and she was like "I'll pay" and I died a little. Yeah, that's the most "intense" it got, no holding hands or anything. Pretty disappointing, right?

I think the next time we met was my Birthday party. She and A stayed over night because of the distance so it's just less stressful. I actually was invited to her birthday party as well but my (not anymore) best friend decided to have hers on the same day so I thought since I was closer with my best friend, her party was the right decision.

Crush is literally one day younger than me, btw.

So since A's birthday is also in the same month (march, my people, it's insane) A's party was the next time we met. And again all of the other friends I already knew. At some point crush taught me some kind of dance figure (discofox) so our hands touched, wow so intense, she has very soft hands.

At some point, again, truth or dare, but it was just crush, me and one of the friends (the one I got to kiss a year prior). I had to say whom I wanted to kiss if I had to and I was like "ehhh, I don't mind, really", but obviously, I was just too insecure to say my crush's name.

A and my crush both came to see my school's musical (obviously I was in it). When they talked to me afterwards A hugged me in a way that felt like she was trying to lift me up. Since she's smaller than me I was like "are you trying to lift me up?", said it in an ironic way. My crush then said let me try and yes. She did.

A also mentioned that my crush first thought about getting flowers for me but since they had to drive for a while she didn't and I,,, did crush really think about that???

Time went by.

Crush and I only communicate via snapchat.

When I was on holiday she texted me something like "we should meet again when you're back, I miss you" and I, slight gay panic, responded probably "same" and something saying that we should meet!

And we did. We met a couple of times so I'm not really sure what happened when and first or whatever. But I think it was the first meeting (or date???) When we went to a nice roof top bar (it was summer. Summer of 2019) and again, she said she'd pay. So we sat there for a while, talking about... anything, gay things.. casually.

Later we got food (pizza. Pineapple pizza, we both love it and if that's not a sign....) and after being too awkward to ask for the bill we somehow managed to get it and the waitress placed it in the middle of the table. Why am I mentioning that?

So. Before that happened my crush said that with same sex couples it's a "thing" that whoever gets handed the bill is the top. At least in the eyes of the person handing you the bill.

Let's just say that I really have no top energy and the waitress only put it in the middle bc I already had my wallet out.

Btw. I paid. I said we'd pay together and that I'd pay. Most top energy I've ever had in my life.

Later on we were just sitting at the riverside, talking. Eventually it started to rain and we ran somewhere to not get that wet. Yeah. Funny. It really was funny.

About a week later (I got a cold bc we sat in the rain. wow), when we were snapping, she mentioned that she finally found some friends to go swimming in a lake with (it was a really warm summer week) and I was like "oh, lucky you, I don't have anyone to do that". Guess what she did? She invited me to come as well. A and some of the other friends I know were coming, so that was fine for me. Of course my dumb ass lesbian self said yes and the next day I spent two hours on a train to get there.

That was a Wednesday. On Thursday I'd have my very last oral exam in school (graduating is fun n stuff). Why's that important? Well, I made some more poor decisions that day.

When we were like.. done with swimming the plan was to drive to my crush's place to have some kind of bbq. A and I wanted to go to A's place first to shower. On the way we figured out it would be more convenient for me to head directly home because of my exam the next day and how the trains run. I texted my crush what was going on and she was like "you could sleep over at my place and go home tomorrow morning" (my exam was around 2 or so). Of course I said yes. She then asked me if I wanted to drink something specific (there is this certain brand of sparkling wine she knows i love and got it for me).

So we then spend the evening sitting in my crush's garden. I had the whole bottle of sparkling wine for myself since I was the only one liking it/not having to drive. My crush had beer, so that's fine. After all the other friends left we we're just sitting alone, outside, in the warm summer night, talking, sitting in silence (not that awkward kind). At some point she suggested to star gaze when it got dark enough. So guess what? We were lying in the grass next to each other, looking at the night sky and making up names for random star constellations. When it got cold she got us some of her jackets.

Eventually I was slightly drunk since I didn't eat much and drank the whole bottle and I maybe ended up asking her how obvious me having the crush was. Well. Let's just say that my subtweets aren't as sub as I am.

Yeah, so that was the last thing we talked about before sleeping (ofc i had to borrow some of her clothes). Awkward? Maybe. But not really, since nothing changed between us. She knew.

I think the next time we met was when we went to get new piercings together. Chaotic energy, very spontaneously. It was fun, I don't regret anything. I can't remember anything worth mentioning that happened.

So since I graduated this year my live obviously needs to go on. I'm doing a gap year, as an aupair. So I did some kind of "good bye party" with my closest friends before I left.

My crush was invited as well. So, first, she brought me a bottle of my favourite sparkling wine. Then, (I was really stressed) she told me to breath, calm down, or sit down and if I remembered it right she did make gestures that I should sit on her lap? Anyways, I didn't, I had to do something else.

At some point that day we were all sitting on the sofa, me next to my crush. She said something like "my arm hurts" and placed it around my shoulders and then said "oh look how smooth that was". Yeah, I died.

She helped me doing the dishes at like 3am and we talked about random things.. maybe some more "private" things.

A few days later she explained to me how she felt (Text. Not in person, do we look like we aren't socially awkward?). She told me that she really wanted to give me a clear answer but she really can't say if she has romantic feelings for me or not. Like she can't say yes but she also can't say no.

Unrelated to that thing I texted her and asked if I had a chance (I was prepared to get a clear no, so I could stop crushing, you know) but she told me that I do have a chance. Why are lesbians so bad in those things.

Yeah, then, I went abroad. We still snapped pics to each other. She told me (multiple times?) she'd come and visit me if she had enough money.

She on day told me that she had been to a nice veggie restaurant and said that we should go there one day (I'm vegetarian).

When I was sure that I'd come home for christmas I told her and we planned to meet. The idea was there but to actual plan what we wanted to do.

In the meantime we started to do almost daily "good night" snaps and suddenly she started to include a heart in her good night message to me. Eventually I did so too and now we almost every day send each other a picture saying goodnight with a drawn heart on it. You wouldn't do that if you knew the other person has a crush on you and you wouldn't want them to have this crush, would you?

And also she really isn't a person to use much emoticons, certainly not hearts.

So now the plan is that I come over to her place on new years eve (which is tomorrow.)

She said she'd look forward to it and I am literally dying of gay panic and excitement.

Additionally, you know those things on Twitter "@ the xth person, it's your whatever" yeah. People did that with "@ the 6th person is your new years kiss" guess who that person is for me? Literally my crush's Twitter. Eventually I did post it with a "lol" (ironically.) and she responded to it with this smirking emoji. You know which one. 😏. That one.

Yeah, that's pretty much the story. I am a gay mess. If she finds this, I'm dead. Well. Anyways, I'll have another 6-8months abroad when I go back so what could go wrong. Haha. Ha.

I'm way too lazy to check for typos and I might have not included every single detail, but you get the broad idea.

Thank you for your attention, I'm out (what a pun).

TL;DR: lesbians being the useless lesbian cliche, I still don't know if i had a chance

[saint-patrice]

“Tbh I would like to have the 34 *other* Bergy pics on your shortlist, complete with commentary lolol. And then (if you’re still waiting that is) any other Marchy pics with commentary? xD xD” 

here are some more of my favourite marchy pics, complete with my bizarre personal commentary, for anon! the 34 bergy pics can be found here also!

Note: a few people have said they like these posts, so i’m up for taking people’s requests if there’s a particular player they’d like to see! inbox is always open (and anon is on) so just drop me your request and i’ll get working on it :)

okay so this is some absolutely premium cute marchy!! the smile that manages to be completely self-confident yet in no way cocky? the polite little wave as he surveys his audience who, if i recall correctly, were booing him heavily?? oh i do love you mr rat. marchy is fantastic and i have so much respect for the way he deals with his reputation across the league and the excessive amount of shit he gets.he knows what people think of him yet doesn’t seem to let it get to him. i have so much love for him.

KATRINA IS LEGENDARY. before moving on to the part of the image that gave me whiplash when i first saw it, we’re back to talking about brad’s smile. i think i said it in my last post but he really is one of those people who smiles with their whole face - even if you just saw his eyes in this photo you can immediately tell that he’s got that little grin on his face and that’s adorable tbh. now onto the d*lf mug (censored bc i fear the dodgy underground porn blogs these days)… i don’t even know where to start. i feel like he very proudly bought it for himself. and it’s like the only mug he ever wants to drink out of. just my take. i also think the longer hair really suits marchy ngl

ahhh the boys and their dirtbag christmas suits 💛 highlights of this image are the suit jacket that is definitely just one size too small for this absolute man rocket, and the pants with “FRAGILE” plastered all over them - very relatable if not at all festive.

gay rights are stored in the rat!!! i’m glad marchy has been pretty open about his support of LGBT stuff, particularly within hockey. also i feel like some of the stuff he’s said in interviews or social media (esp re: lickgate) manages, even if not intentionally, to be quite diminutive towards implicit homophobia or ‘toxic masculinity’ within hockey. okay maybe that that was poorly expressed but basically he just doesn’t give a shit and appears very open and accepting and i think that’s super nice. this picture also makes for a good reaction image when someone says something dumb

short kings love.jpeg !! a wonderful example of the love that brad shows his teammates on a regular basis, despite his constant chirping. i have no real opinions on torey krug (no h8, i just don’t think i’ve seen that much of him off ice so idk) but him and marchy are quite the duo tbh, i live for their back and forths on twitter - more on that later - and they seem to love each other an awful lot, it’s v cute :^)

that’s my pest™. honestly i think lickgate is one of the best scandals in recent hockey history. when looking for a good image of this is saw an article where some dipshit reporter was outraged about it and was like “how would you feel if someone just came up and liked you?” i mean what if someone just came up and started punching you or hip-checked you into the wall????? hockey is a nasty game a lot of the time, and instead of giving people concussions or broken bones (not that he hasn’t in the past ik…) marchy managed to make opposing teams just as angry, if not moreso, just by licking players. i think it’s fucking hilarious. and most of them took it well in hindsight anyway - i think it was komarov who said he kinda liked it lmaoooooo. peak bradley kevin antics if you  ask me

every pic from the china trip has such a special place in my heart. this is just an all-round adorable photo and brad is looking gorgeous in the sunlight and his backwards cap

brad waving the towel in surrender is just about the funniest thing i’ve ever seen someone do in the penalty box… i can’t believe they gave him a 10 minute misconduct for it, something i think they’d wouldn’t have done if it had have been someone else. at least someone in this league has a goddamn sense of humour. the penalty minutes stat in the corner just makes this even better

brad, once again, showing us how we should deal with people talking shit about us - just get on board with it. i love how much he’s just embraced his massive nose and his height and his general reputation. idk if it’s really deliberate but i think it’s such a good message to send, and it makes for some pretty funny stuff too.

brad single-handedly keeps nhl refs in a job. in my bruins drinking game™ you have to take a shot every time the ref has to physically restrain marchy (2 if it’s because he was going to get revenge or fend for bergy) and you could get fucked off that alone during some games. it was nice to see him not actually get suspended this year, but i will always love that he’s such a physical player and quite the pest on the ice :))

me: *slaps helmet of brad marchand* this bad boy can fit so much personality.

really though, can you believe he’s managed to squeeze more charisma into only 5 feet and 9 inches than 85% of the league combined… very cute picture, and always lovely to see him by bergy’s side on the ice where he belongs

oh my goddddddd how fucking cute is this though!!!! the hat! the dad energy those jeans and the boots give off!!! his face!! his little daughter!!!!! i can’t take it, my heart is going to burst.

(gif via @kureally) this is also just so cute, i need a minute. brad has some very powerful eyebrows and this gif displays them wonderfully. this section of behind the b was also pretty sweet all round, and i agree with pasta that the hair is looking pretty first class

(gif via @murlin09) i am not like into marchy (no tea no shade if u are though), but this gif… whew. i’ll let you come to your own conclusions on this one, gang

i was not lying when i said more on the brad-torey social media antics earlier. there are some truly iconic chirps (the zamboni one is lethal), but this self-roast just kills me every time. i never once thought i’d read a tweet from the official brad marchand twitter account that opened with “hey shorty” but here we are. “my nose wouldn’t fit” i astral projected the first time i read that. and if you’re wondering what torey said to prompt this, it was simply “hey marchy”. it doesn’t take much for brad to light on you, huh? we better watch our backs

definitely a favourite marcheron pic right here - the pucks and paddles (i still think that’s a questionable name but maybe that’s a me issue) content is always top notch. if you can find the video, it’s even better, but this picture captures the general energy of the video perfectly. the only thing missing is that brad’s feet aren’t actually on the floor because the height difference is so pronounced that bergy has to lift him. beautiful

return of the cute brad smile!! a cute yet mischievous little grin, i can only assume he’s restraining himself from laughing at m*tthews fivehead (although who is he to talk with that schnozz. at least he rocks it tbf 👃🏻). not sure blue is really his colour but he’s going for it anyway. that’s my all star!

it’s been days since this photo first surfaced and i haven’t stopped palpitating. the cutest photo ever, they all look so happy and i love that!!! also how are their wives so beautiful….!? oh my every pixel of this image is just stunning

i know i included this in my last bergy list but if they can name new york twice i think i can put this on 2 lists, because lord knows it’s even more iconic. i feel like this is a good metaphor for brad marchand: getting up to no good, although still relatively harmless, all the while supported by the considerably more sensible, yet still entertaining, patrice bergeron. additionally, another excellent display of the oft-overlooked fact that this man is built like a motherfucking tank. holy shit

i wish i could see these boys in suits without my brain immediately trying to think of some sort of au. anyway, i really like this look on brad (unpopular opinion - i love his loud checkered suits as a concept but i don’t think they look good). although he has dark hair, strong eyebrows, and dark facial hai, the all black actually looks really good on him. coffee in hand really adding to the look too - well done, brad “fashionista” marchand.

ahhhhh i love nothing more than family man marchy 💛 his daughter is adorable - those tiny jerseys kill me - and i love that his son is wearing the all-star jersey omg how cute (he is definitely going to end up taller than brad lmao)

sometimes i forget that brad is short and then i see photos like this (brandon is 6′5 for reference)…amazing. i relate to the lady on the left on a spiritual level. brad’s face is a mood and a half. his feet are half a foot of the ice at least. i adore this photo.

(gif via @brandoncarlo) absolutely one of my fav things about watching bruins games is how brad and patrice will always find each other during a celly - nothing beats the 100 hug. this is also just a very satisfying skating gif that i love.

last but very very very far from least is this. there is literally no need for me to make any comment on this so i’m just going to leave it and go. bradley kevin marchand you are iconic and ily

ayyy this was super fun to do, thank you for requesting it anon, i hope you like!! again, i’m absolutely up for taking requests for more of these lists so hmu if you have ideas :) 

[waldowski89-blog]

Tumblr Written Return.

So, I’m back here doing my usual routine. Hello, I guess… you guess? In any case, I enjoy these don’t get me wrong. My abrasiveness is just something acquired, I think. Or not talking to people, I don’t know. Okay, that started off on a wrong foot, left or right you decide… god this is rubbish. So I’ll split this into 3? I didn’t say that last time. I think three segments is enough for 1,000 words… enough for anybody.

I think I’m at the point where most people give up [Edit 20-02-19: I kinda wanna.]. I want to be relentless with this. This notebook seems like it may take longer to fill. Anyway apparently there’s a point where people quit or feel like it but it comes just before take off as it were. Not that that was ever the plan of course. I always felt if it made one person laugh or happy or entertained etc. then it was worth it. I’ll take regular in writing this or these [Edit 20-02-19: I seriously don’t know what that means… oh breaks I think I meant.]. I won’t include times though just dates. All that was probably only interesting to me anyway. I don’t really know.

Wow, can you believe I’ve been here on and off for about two years now? Does it seem like that? I don’t know. Don’t roll your eyes at that. It really has been a while, hasn’t it? Do you look forward to another two years? I’m smiling so I must be. I never cared about popularity or getting paid… hint hint. Eurgh, all that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I just want to entertain but one has to make a living too. Can one really trade in blood… that’s overly creepy. I meant metaphysically. I don’t always talk about positive subjects. Also I was about to talk on where I’ve been this past month. The thought is conflicted… who really cares anyway. Why am I so grim and grey? Cue Bohemian Rhapsody. Actually that’s interesting that’s a nonsense song and Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is a nonsense story. I really want to get around to reading that. I want to do a reading on a new channel of mine. It’s not set up properly though and I have nothing to post there yet. Just a few maybe dumb outtakes of Jane Eyre. I wanted to read that first… for an old friend. I LOVE YA BUB! BUB. Hey that’s a point, I forget to do ending ideas on my streams. I shall begin that again too… I mean I already started streaming again but I meant the Ending Ideas™ IN ANY CASE! (My talents are wasted) (What talent?)

Where I’ve Been? been up to?

Right hello again, next section. So I’m not going to go into depths as to where I was and what I got up to. Suffice it to say that it was an education. An ongoing education. Also one that technically started years ago. There’s no need for me to go into great detail anyway. Clearly there’s something wrong with my mental health. I have been determined to have a mental disorder. That is or it has been observed that way. I don’t disagree. Oof, I don’t like talking about it. It always brings the mood down. Put short I am depressed and this could be due to anxieties I have. Fear not though for I am getting help. Deers. Should I call my audience deers? Jeeze why the fuck do I have an audience for this? It’s not fun. Hopefully talking helps. Openly or at least as openly as one would like. I want to move on already. With life, with everything. Again, fear not, for I will stay here as I can. It’s too dour. Let us move on shall we? I’ve barely broached the subject though. However I feel I’ve said enough. I hope.

In any case, hope is a good tool in these situations. Hope that things will get better and that it just takes time… it’s taking a pretty fucking long time, huh? That’s about all I’ve got on this subject for now. Oh, except that there was an app about all this. Link! Hey you! Yes you! Got crippling depression? Feel anxious all the time? Yes? Then there’s an app for you.

Okay, now that was overly facetious (I’ll have to edit in whether I spelt facetious right or not later) [Edit 20-02-19: I did.]. Anyway I’ll link (spelt tink wrong it’s early… and I did it even wronger just then). I’ll link it at the end. I haven’t used it myself (fear perhaps) but I will in time. It sounds very helpful bringing each other hope in depressing times/situations/circumstances.

I’ve always wanted to help people. Entertain people. Keep people smiling. It’s nice. Like Psycho Mantis in Metal Gear Solid: “I’ve never used my powers to help people before… It feels… kind of… nice…”. I can still hear that in my head. Gosh, I played Metal Gear Solid a lot as a child… David Hayter in that Christmas message about it was like: “Yeah, well it’s a dark world.”. That was epic where he just dropped into The Voice™: “Brother” and Cam Clarke too: “Dear brother.” I FUCKING LOVE THAT GAME AND ALL THE VOICE ACTORS AND CREATORS AND EVERYONE! … In any case… FFFOXE DIE DIE DIE… calm down Andrew. Counterintuitively I’m listening to the Hitman Blood Money Soundtrack.

Been Looking at Microphones.

Anyway, time to move on. I wrote the above title a few days ago. I’ll read back this thing to get a better idea of where I am. I usually write these in bits over a few days.

Okay, so that seems like a waste of time. It’s just my usual pontificating. So the microphones. I don’t know or remember why I wanted to dedicate a whole section to that but hey ho here we are (I’m listening to the album Hollow Bones by Rival Sons by the way. More Links!). Um basically I was thinking of investing in a much more expensive microphone. That’s it really.

So moving on from that… jeeze it feels like one of these mission constraints in Assassin’s Creed. “Write only about buying a professional microphones only” Well I’ve broken that constraint but there’s no checkpoint here.

In any case, that was it. Interestingly though I found the album Hollow Bones by chance or by how I usually find music and that’s through the recommended on iTunes. I actually do usually judge an album by it’s cover and this one is cool. It has what could be an arctic fox on the front. I’ll put a pic in here.

[Edit 22-02-19: Nice vape, yo.]

I found this album from the recommended in Victorious by Wolfmother. That album gives me nostalgia (what doesn’t?) for a few years ago. It was when I was in the grip of psychosis I think (That’s brave? Don’t post this) I thought I was in a TV show or something. I can’t be the only one to ever have felt this way… Derren Brown more specifically anyway. That’s all over with now. I wasn’t it turns out. I thought the music was a message to me directly as if created for me… I know it’s or may be narcissistic of me. Anyway I tried to listen and applied the lyrics to my life… ANYWAY… I guess I finish this by linking a Jack White video: “Let the music tell you what to do” I haven’t even watched it yet. I will now but alas we are at the end of another Tumblr. I look forward to working with you again friend… The Internet. My name’s Waldowsky (with a ‘y’ why? for now) and thank you to every single one of you who read. My hand hurts (Stop complaining, Andrew).

Just watched it. Well I was going to say I can write a bunch and keep it all. I hardly delete anything. I’ll link Death Letter too… I really love that track. Curiouser and curiouser, I just realised it’s from De Stijl… what a coincidence that he should mention that song.

[Final Edit 20-02-19: A lot of this made no fucking sense.]

[Final Final Edit 22-02-19 or P.S.: The app was called Wisdo. Still haven’t tried it yet.]

Links

Wisdo

Hitman: Blood Money Soundtrack [Edit 22-02-19: I nearly forgot to add this. I need to find a soundtrack for Metal Gear Solid too. I have some music from that game, so don’t you worry.]

Hollow Bones - Rival Sons

Victorious - Wolfmother

Jack White - Speech: "Let the music tell you what to do" | Producers & Engineers Honoree | GRAMMYS

Bonus

Bonus Bonus [Edit 22-02-19: There ya go.]

[craniumhurricane]

i’ll have the eggplant emoji

So I started writing a fic back in February and intended for it to be a Valentine’s gift for @katchyalater but that never happened SO! Merry Christmas Kac!

On AO3!

Bellamy: Can I come over tonight?

Clarke: It's Saturday?

I thought you had a date tonight??

Bellamy: I did

It ended earlier than I planned.

Clarke: Shit!

Yeah sure

Did you make it to dinner?

I'm ordering takeout

 When Bellamy lets himself into Clarke’s apartment he's wearing what she considers his “dating outfit”; a pair of nice dark wash jeans with a blue button up and a jacket that has those weird elbow patches that he somehow pulls off. He’s even got contacts in instead of wearing his glasses which is really a shame. He’s adorable with his glasses and artfully messy hair. Not that it matters, all forms of Bellamy are attractive to Clarke. But she refuses to let that get in the way of helping her best friend. She’s already got a beer waiting for him on the coffee table which he immediately grabs and twists off the cap before taking a pull.

“Food should be here soon,” she tells him as he sits down next to her on the couch. “And the cat will come skulking out once she realizes you're here. Bad date?”

“Just what I came for,” he says with a rueful smile and then frowns, bringing the bottle up again but pausing before it reaches his lips. “We broke up. Or rather we aren't seeing each other anymore. Fuck, I don't know. Do you consider it dating after only four dates?”

“Some people might but hey, what are labels really?” She shrugs and takes a sip of her own beer.

“Thanks,” he says with a smile before finally taking the swig.

She really does feel bad for him. Not that Clarke liked Echo. To be honest she couldn't really stand her, but Bellamy hadn't dated anyone since Gina broke up with him two years ago for reasons Clarke doesn't even know. It was amicable and the two of them are still friends but Clarke just wants her best friend to be happy. And for all intents and purposes, he did seem happy with Echo. Even if she was a royal bitch to most of his friends.

The cat comes out from the hallway and Bellamy seems distracted trying to get her attention so Clarke clears her throat and asks, “Netflix or Discovery Channel?”

Which is how they end up finishing the six pack Clarke had in the fridge and starting in on the bottles of weird foreign beer that her mom gave her as a Christmas present last year. They're watching some cheesy romance movie that came on after a Parks and Rec rerun marathon and were both too lazy to reach for the remote. The cat is curled up in Bellamy’s lap and Clarke's not sure when his head ended up on a pillow in her own lap or when she started carding her fingers through his hair but she's not going to comment on it.

“See and that's all it really takes,” he says suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence and gesturing at the TV.

Clarke knows he's nowhere near drunk. They've gone to Gina's bar more times than any of their friends and those drinks usually consisted of hard liquor which Gina was very generous with. Bellamy has spent more than one occasion holding her hair back and in return she's held onto his glasses and few times for him. She's pretty sure they're both fine right now, if maybe a little tipsy.

“Emotional manipulation until you have the girl right where you want her but surprise! You’ve been a good guy all along?”

Bellamy frowns and then suddenly sits up, dislodging the cat from her position with an indignant meow. He's back to sitting next to her on the couch but now he’s close enough that their shoulders graze each other. “No, just a simple gesture to show you like someone. Like,” he gestures at the TV again, “sending flowers. All these kids today sending dick pics and eggplant emojis. People still want to be courted. Gestures that are cute and thoughtful are way more intimate than grainy photos of hairy dicks.”

Clarke stares at his profile for a second and feels a slight blush creep up her neck and onto her face that she will blame entirely on the alcohol. It isn't until he turns to look at her that she realizes that he probably wanted a reply.

“Do people send you hairy dicks often? Isn't manscaping supposed to be a thing?”

He laughs, like she knew he would, and shoves her lightly which gratefully creates some space between them. “Shut up and put Netflix on.”

Bellamy helps her clean up the takeout boxes and leaves without any fanfare about two hours later. Clarke offered to walk him halfway but he turns her down mumbling something along the lines of it being only a 10 minute walk. She crawls into her bed and aimlessly scrolls through her social media feeds, actively ignoring the thought that hasn't left her alone since Bellamy had mentioned it when they were lying on the couch.

She pauses once she gets the text that he made it home, interrupting her scroll through Tumblr. She considers it for half a second and then opens a new tab in her web browser and before she knows what she's doing she's found a reasonable florist in the area that makes deliveries.

“That’s all it takes,” she breathes as she types in the delivery information.

*

She'd like to think she's the type of person that wouldn't obsess about it but let's be real; she is definitely the type of person to obsess about it. She spends most of Monday morning checking her phone every 5 minutes for the time. Not sure if the delivery confirmation or a text from Bellamy will come first. She's honestly not sure which she wants to receive first.

Thankfully she actually does get swept up with patients at the clinic and is gratefully distracted until close to her lunch time.

It's just after 11:30 when she's walking Mrs. Kane out that she gets a text from Bellamy. He has combination lunch and office hours from 11:30 to 1:30 which is why she indicated this as the best time for delivery. Clarke quickly announces to the front that she'll be in her office before she hurries in and shuts the door. The text is a picture of the arrangement but she’s too distracted by the blinking dots that indicate he's still typing to really appreciate them.

Bellamy: [image]

Thanks for the flowers, Princess.

I'm really not that upset over Echo but I appreciate the gesture.

Clarke stares at the messages and waits for more... But none show up. She exits out of her texting app as if that will refresh it but when she goes back in there's still nothing. Now she's scowling at her phone because that idiot didn't get it!

Or maybe he doesn't feel that way about her?

Once upon a time she thought he did but the timing wasn’t right. She had just gotten out of a rough relationship and wasn’t looking for anything serious. And then, when she was ready, he was dating Gina. Next was Niylah for her followed by, most recently, Echo for him. When she was ordering the flowers, Clarke didn’t allow herself to debate over whether it was a good idea. She just thought, with both of them single, that this could finally be it. But maybe it was too late. Maybe they missed their window.

Halfheartedly, because she knows he'll think it's weird if she doesn't reply, she types out a response.

 Clarke: Glad you like them.

 And a part of her means it. Her friendship with Bellamy is more important to her than unrequited feelings. Still, she pockets her phone and doesn't think about it for the rest of the day.

It's later that night, when she's sitting at home with a bottle of wine, that he sends her another picture. He’s brought the flowers home and put them in one of the shitty vases she made when she thought pottery was going to be her new hobby. An assumption that she had been so so wrong about. He mostly kept it as a reminder that not all her ideas are good ones but she has to admit that the arrangement does look good in it now that she actually looks at it. The vase is simple, if a bit lopsided and lumpy, yet colorful and with the flowers it looks very... homey. He has them displayed in the center of his kitchen/dining table where she knows he does all of his grading.

 Bellamy: [image]

Look, your vase has a real purpose

Other than taunting you

Sorry, couldn’t resist. I really do appreciate the flowers though

 A goofy smile returns to Clarke’s lips and a flicker of hope reignites in her chest. She decides that she isn't giving up that easily. The gesture was sweet but maybe not grand enough...

*

Bellamy teaches at Ark University and Clarke knows his schedule as well as she knows her own which is how she knows he has lecture hall on Wednesdays. She plans her next delivery accordingly.

She purposefully took a late lunch and at 2pm she shuts herself in her office, pulls her phone out, and waits. At four minutes past the hour her phone lights up with a selfie of her and Bellamy at the fair, indicating a phone call.

“Hi,” she answers with a smile.

“I think the florist you used messed up your order.”

She startles upright in her chair, “Wh-What?”

“You ordered a delivery for Monday, right?” Bellamy asks before barreling on as if he's distracted, “They just came in at the end of my class with five more arrangements. You might want to call them and make sure they didn’t charge you for all of these.”

She blinks a few times. Of course, of course, he would worry about something like that.

“No, that's right,” she says carefully.

“Which is why you should call them,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing to do. “Tell them you only wanted the Monday order. The guy already left and I doubt they'll take these back so I'm giving them to my students.” She can hear him shuffling and talking to other people.

“No! That's not what I -”

“Related note; this does not help me get my students to stop hitting on me,” he says pointed.

She’s slowly moving from exasperated to frustrated. The smart thing to do would be to wait for his attention to be back on her and slowly and calmly explain that it's not a mistake and that, yes, she did send another five arrangements to his place of work, in front of his students, so there would be witnesses.

But Clarke's brain doesn't always work when she's frustrated and now this declaration of love is a thing. She's not backing down yet.

“We can work on that,” she says with determination.

* 

Bellamy's taking his classes on a field trip to the museum on Friday and won't be home all day. The clinic is only open until noon so Clarke has a free afternoon. It's the perfect opportunity.

Clarke has a key to his apartment because of course she does. He had given her a key after that one time when she waited outside in the hallway because he was running late and felt guilty about it. She uses it all the time to let herself in so she really doesn't feel bad about using it now...

She smiles when she sees the original flowers she sent him on Monday are still in the vase she made and are still sitting on his kitchen table. He must be changing the water every day because they still look really good considering they're a few days old.

She doesn't have long to admire them because the delivery guys are right on time. Clarke lets them in and begins directing them on where they can put stuff. Once they’re done unloading, she gives them a generous tip and sets about adjusting the arrangements herself. If five wasn’t enough for him to get it then maybe fifteen will do the trick.

In a true moment of feeling sappy, she decides to put her note in a card holder in the original arrangement.

After one last look around she gives herself a nod of approval and locks up as she leaves. She manages to keep the skip out of her step but not the smile from her face as she walks the few blocks to her place.

She’s playing with the cat and still smiling when Bellamy calls just after six.

“What the hell, Clarke?!” he yells into the phone in lieu of a getting. Loud enough that the cat startles and runs away.

“I had to get your attention,” the smile is a little hard to keep with him yelling at her.

“And bringing on an allergy attack was the way to do that?”

She feels the frustration begin to set in again, “Didn’t you see the card?”

“What card? Clarke, what is going on?”

She lets out a strangled noise. “The card on your kitchen- you know what, I'll be right over.”

When she arrives at Bellamy’s apartment she uses her key once again to open the door. He's standing in the middle of the room, eyes darting around to each arrangement as if he's unsure where to begin before his eyes land on her.

He sniffles and that does make her feel a little guilty, especially when his eyes are slightly red.

“Seriously Clarke, what the hell?”

She squares her shoulders like she's preparing for a fight and walks over to the table where she had left her note. “You said a simple gesture would work but apparently, with you, that isn't the case. So I had to go bigger.” She pulls the note out and whirls around.

He's frowning at her when she turns around so she just thrusts her hand out and shoves the card into his chest.

“And when that didn't work I decided I had to go even bigger,” she gestures around the room.

His eyes drop to read the note and there’s suddenly silence in the room. She doesn't know if it’s as awkward as she thinks it is but thankfully he starts talking before she can start rambling.

“You love me?” he looks up at her with something that looks like hope in his eyes.

All at once she lets out a breath and feels the tension drain from her shoulders only to be replaced by nerves and that damn blush again. “Well, yeah.”

Instantly, he closes the space between them and kisses her. Clarke's hands immediately go to the hair at the nape of his neck as if they were magnets just waiting for permission. Likewise, she can feel one of his hands thread through her hair while the other rests on her cheek.

They break apart for air but he doesn't go far, just rests his forehead against her’s with his eyes closed. “I'm in love with you too,” he says and suddenly they're both smiling at each other before she’s surging forward for another kiss.

They continue to make out for a few minutes before Clarke breaks out into a fit of giggles.

“What?” Bellamy asks as he pulls back to look at her.

She’s still chuckling but the look on her face is fond, “I should have just sent you an eggplant emoji.”

“Shut up,” he says with absolutely no heat, unable to keep his own smile off his face. “But yeah, could have saved yourself the trouble.”

“I'll remember that for next time.” But she doesn't think she'll need it.

[typewrter]

Scott’s phone vibrates. He lets go of the car door and fumbles his phone out of his pocket.

“You can sit shotgun,” he tells Liam and steps back to sit in the back instead. Liam pats his shoulder as he passes him, tired smile around the eyes.

He only half-listens to Mason’s and Liam’s hushed conversation about the newly bitten wolf whose scent they had lost. Instead, he checks Stiles’ message.

‘Fyi some newbie intern nearly killed ur best friend today! Pointed a LOADED gun at me & then tripped over his own feet’

Scott can’t help but smile as his thumbs fly over the keyboard to reply: ‘Aren’t you a newbie intern too?’ He follows it up with, ‘Sounds a lot like you actually, rmbr when your dad wouldnt give you a gun?’

‘Got upgraded to trainee! keep up, scotty!!’

Of course Scott knows that. Doesn’t change the fact that Stiles is very new at the FBI, does it?

“Are you texting Argent?” Mason asks from the front.

Scott watches the little icon symbolizing that Stiles is typing for a moment longer, then switches conversations.

“Yeah,” he says. “Let him know we lost the lead.”

“Thanks to me,” Liam interject, frustration evident in his voice.

Scott looks up. Liam is hunched up in his seat. It’s night and save for the passing streetlights it’s dark out, but Scott can still tell he has his hands balled to fists in his lap.

“Hey.” He leans forward to drop a hand on Liam’ shoulder, squeezing it briefly. “Don’t beat yourself up, okay? I lost the scent, too. We’re not totally sure there’s even a bitten werewolf here in the first place, right? It’s all just rumors and hearsay.”

Scott’s phone vibrates twice in quick succession. He ignores it.

Mason gives them a quick look. “Yeah, and what am I supposed to say? I can’t even smell the stuff you guys can in the first place!”

Liam gently shoves Mason in the arm, earning himself a “Hey, I’m driving, genius!”

“I’m texting Argent to let him know that we lost the scent,” Scott says and sits back again.

Stiles sent him an image and a text. Still, Scott forces himself to finish his text message to Argent before checking what Stiles sent him.

(After that, he waits a few seconds longer, to see if Liam is really all right. His heart is beating steady, his chemo signals are normal, and he’s arguing with Mason about whether they should throw Corey a surprise birthday party or not. Good enough for Scott.)

The picture is of Stiles; he’s wearing a bulletproof vest with the letters FBI on it over his a dark blue outfit and he’s holding a gun, aiming at something to the left of the camera. The safety glasses on his faces do little to hide the look of intense concentration that Scott’s seen a thousand times before. He’s probably at a shooting range, from the looks of his surroundings.

There’s a curious tugging in Scott’s stomach.

‘Can handle a gun just fine now ;)’, the accompanying text says. ‘Plus I look rly fcking hot holding one so’

Scott has no idea what that has to do with anything but he can’t disagree.

The thing is, Stiles has been – well, Scott would almost say, flirting with Scott for a while now. It’s less crude and overt than when he did it as a joke when they were just kids. More like actual, real, adult flirting, and less like a silly joke. After everything that came with the bite, Stiles had stopped for a while, slowly phasing out the jokes about making out. Scott honestly hadn’t even noticed until Stiles had started up again a couple of weeks ago, mostly over text and on the phone now, since they rarely see each other.

Maybe it’s just Stiles’ way of saying he misses him.

Except, Stiles has no problem outright admitting to missing Scott, (and neither has Scott, for that matter, since he misses Stiles a lot, all the time).

So Scott has no idea what this thing is. All he knows is he always tended to completely ignore those kind of jokes when they were younger and now he wants to reciprocate.

Push the boundaries. Just a little.

‘Didnt know an attractive face was required for being a good shot’, he texts back, lacking anything more clever to say.

They enter Beacon Hills. As Mason stops at a red light, he turns around, trying not to get twisted up in his seatbelt, and takes one, two, three selfies with Liam and Mason in the background, their looks changing from surprised to silly faces with each picture.

“What’re you doing?” Liam wants to know.

Scott shrugs. “Letting Stiles know what we’re up to.”

He picks the second picture to send. Mason’s and Liam’s faces are funnier in the third one – Liam is actually sticking his tongue out and it’s adorable – but well. Scott looks better in the second one, he thinks. He can’t help that he looks tired and sweaty but his smile is less goofy and more attractive. He hopes.

‘Liam&mason say hi!! :D’

Stiles replies immediately with a bunch of shocked emojis. ‘Didnt know u were w/ them! How’s our firstborn doing? Where were u? I dont see any blood’, he adds and then a thumbs up emoji.

Scott is typing a reply, when another message comes through: ‘U rly spending ur weekend at home chasing wolves buddy?’

At that, Scott almost laughs because yeah, of course he does. So does Stiles whenever he gets a chance to be home. Scott regularly has to talk him out of going werewolf chasing (in the nice way) in Virginia, and he’s not always successful.

When another message with more question comes through, Scott just sends, ‘Hold on’.

Mason stops in front of Scott’s house just a minute or two later, Scott’s phone still buzzing in his lap.

“You gonna be okay to get home?” Scott asks, even though they have a car and nothing really happened tonight. He can’t help but worry. Malia likes to blame his mother hen instincts on him being an alpha, but privately Scott thinks that it’s all him.

“Yeah, dude,” Liam replies. “We gonna see you before you leave town?”

“Yeah, I’ll swing by.” Scott gives them each a clap on the shoulder before exiting the car. He barely has one foot on the pavement before his phone starts ringing.

“I was gonna call you in literally ten seconds,” he says as a greeting, letting the car door fall closed behind him and watching Mason and Liam drive off.

“But you haven’t. And you weren’t answering. Could’ve been eaten by a monster by now,” Stiles says, voice going a hundred miles an hour as always.

“I’m not. Still alive and kicking.” Scott knows Stiles can hear him smiling, but it doesn’t matter.

“You ever gonna tell me what you guys were up to or am I gonna have to drive over there and drag it out of you?”

“Dunno,” Scott says. He’s fumbling for the right key for the door, trying to keep his voice down now in case his mum’s already gone to bed. “If me not telling you results in you coming here, then I’m not gonna say a word.”

Stiles is quiet for a long moment. He sounds unusually fond when he demands, “Spit it out, boy wonder.”

So Scott tells him about the rumor of the newly bitten wolf without a pack three towns over, and how it was supposedly a young girl. That they’d gone looking for her, but lost her scent, or maybe never even had it, they’re not sure.

He’s still explaining as he walks by his mom on the couch where she’s watching one of her shows. He stops talking to drops a kiss on her hair.

“Who’s that?” she mouths up at him.

“Stiles.”

“Tell your mom hi from me!” Stiles demands in a loud voice as if he expects it to carry from the tinny phone speaker all the way to Scott’s mom on the couch. Scott winces.

“He yells hi,” he dutifully relays.

His mom smiles. “Hello to you too, Stiles. Tell me how he’s doing tomorrow, hm?” She’s already nestling back down into her blanket so Scott just nods and takes the stairs up to his room two at a time.

“So basically a whole lotta nothing,” Stiles finally sums up when Scott finishes explaining.

Scott laughs. “Pretty much, yeah. I texted Argent cause he was the one who told us about the rumor. If she pops back up again and I’m back at UC, Liam’ll have to go after her. Or I’ll come back down, we’ll see.”

“Think he can handle it?”

“Yeah,” Scott says. “I think he can. Better than he thinks he can, actually.”

Stiles laughs. “That’s cause you always have faith in everyone.”

“I’m just not as paranoid you,” Scott teases back, making sure his voice is soft so Stiles won’t misunderstand. That’s not entirely right anyway, he thinks. Stiles had faith in Scott, always and all along.

“That’s why we’re the dream team, Scotty.”

“Yeah.” Scott kicks up his feet against the wall, lets them slide down back onto the bed slowly. “Miss ya, buddy.”

Stiles exhales loudly and there’s a rustling sound. It sounds like he’s shifting around on his bed.

“Miss you too. So weird not to see your face every day, honestly. Earlier, I was staring at that pic you sent like some kind of serial killer scooting out his next victim.”

Scott snorts. He knows the feeling; though he feels more lovesick than serial killer-like. He’d known that Stiles leaving would be hard on him, but he hadn’t expect it to be like this. Hadn’t seen it coming that Stiles’ voice in his ear would be enough to make his heart beat in a quicker rhythm.

“You coming home for Christmas, right?” Scott asks.

“'Course I will.” Stiles pauses. “You’re gonna need a crowbar to get me off you.” There’s something in his voice – embarrassment, maybe. Hesitation.

“Nah, I’ll like it. I’ll superglue you to me and then no one can demand we be separated for the whole week. Like that time in second grade, you remember that?”

Back then, Stiles had spilled glue on their shirts, causing them to stick together within seconds. This time, Scott thinks, he’d glue their hands together instead.

Stiles laughs quietly. “That was totally on accident!”

“Well,” Scott says slowly. “It won’t be this time.”

He hears Stiles shift again. Suddenly, Stiles smacks his lips, making a loud, obnoxious kissing sound into the speaker. “Alright, Scotty boy, it’s a plan.”

Scott shakes his head and smiles.

[ksashton-blog]

. acceleration

time doesn’t always heal the pain. 

he packs his bags, and leaves for the winter break. his aunt wanted to see him again, after all it’s been two years. he wasn’t hesistant -- everyone at keisung was just in the back of his mind at that moment. he doesn’t look back, and tells the taxi driver to move forward. a heavy weight bringing him down more, and more.

family will bring you joy -- as they say...

a hearts a heavy burden, and when there is too much on your chest things bring you down. that’s how ashton was feeling. he wanted to say so much, but the thoughts of that main made him remain silent about the situations. he could mutter a word, he felt frozen, blank, dazed with it came to thinking of his past. the time still fresh in his mind -- two years was still such a short time.

his aunt talks to him. she helps distract him as much as possible. it doesn’t work, but the thought of her trying brings some light into his surrounding darkness. its close to the holidays -- a busy time of year so he helps his uncle out around his store, and the house. he goes to the stores with his aunt for more of a personal bag carrier. as long as he isn’t thinking everything is fine, right?

‘ i can’t cook... ’ he mutters, standing in front of the stove, and looking at the pot of water boiling. ‘ i’ll teach you... ’ he replied to his aunts offer with a simple nod. maybe this isn’t so bad after all.

a traditional korean dinner for the holidays. the house was decorated with lights, and other things that brought in that holiday cheer. this wasn’t something he was used too. the house he grew up in was dark, and cold. christmas was spent in silence, his room was the only place he felt safe in. he wished to spend it with others so, he would opt for friend’s houses or hosted christmas parties. he would even go as far as watching the city lights, and coming home late when he knew his father was dead to the world. it was the only time he felt safe. the less time he spent home the better.

‘ this is mines? ’ ashton wasn’t so much as expecting a present, nor did he have anything in return to give to his aunt or uncle. no matter how many times they stated it was okay, his presence was enough the more he felt bad. surely, he couldn’t accept the small gift that was passed to him on christmas day, but with a faint smile he accepted it anyways. can you numb the pain?

reoccurances happen often, good or bad its how to handle them.

‘ you should’ve died... i should’ve gotten rid of you while i had the chance! ’ a stinging pain was felt against the eighteen year old’s face. his father was at it again. this wasn’t anything new, in fact the pain was numbed once the older striked him across his face. ashton at the time felt nothing more than what it felt to be dead. there was no emotion as he stared ahead. he couldn’t make it out the house in time to be caught by his father.

‘ so you’re not going to respond? ’ what was there to respond to. the same things were said over, and over and it made him think was it really a mistake to be born. did he actually kill his own mother? he’d never seen his mother before so how could it be his fault. he could remember asking about her when he was a kid, and automatically he would think of the grim look of his father before the man mutter the words of ‘ you killed her...’ as he walked out the room. he could never understand what he did wrong. being pushed, and cornered into the room wasn’t new either. ashton was sure the man would yell at him until he gotten tired. that’s what he thought...

that’s what he thought...

he felt a sharp pain, a pain that woke up his senses. ashton found himself on the floor -- a state of shock that his father just punched him in the face. before he could regain his senses he was being dragged up from the floor only to feel another contact of the older’s knuckles to his cheek. it was multiple hits between the contact of his father’s fist and the contact of the wooden floor. he could fell a small trickle of something running down the side of his head. the floor is stained with a dark red, his lip is busted as a stinging sensation hits it each time it comes in contact with something. he could only block his face during the time. too weak to move, and when the other began to grow annoyed it was a blunt force that land in his stomach. ashton could only double over in pain, coughing as he it felt as if the air was literally knocked out from his lungs. 

he finds himself yelling out for the man to stop, but the hits continue. he hears his name being called it sounds like his father’s voice, but ashton only continues to yell. 

‘ash... asht... woojung!’ a loud gasps of air comes from the young male, as he sits up. sweat beads dampens his forehead as he looks around. fear is shown across the young male’s face as he sees his aunt, and uncle looking at him with worried looks. he trembles in the woman’s hold, a wave a nausea hits him like a ton of bricks. breath in, breath out. ‘ another nightmare? i’ll get some water so you can calm down, it’s okay ashton he’s not here. ’ the older woman runs her fingers through his hair as he closes his eyes to regain normal breathing. with a small nod he watches as the two exit his room.

things happen unexpectedly -- whether good or bad.

IMCOMING MESSAGE 

[ TIIMM ] hey man, hows korea holding up? buried in snow yet?? haha [ TIIMM ] anyways you won’t believe this but theres a man walking the streets of san fran right? [ TIIMM ] he looks like your dad, but then i remember can’t be him hes locked up right? thats why you moved... [ TIIMM ] its crazy tho... that man looks JUST like him...

ashton wanted to pass out in that moment. he stares ahead as his phone lands on the floor. maybe its a coincidence, or maybe not. that man had some years left on his term. in fact, he had a long way to go -- ten more in fact. how could he possibly be out after two years? 

he hurriedly picked up his phone.

[ ASHH ] when you see him take a pic and send it to me.

days later 

INCOMING MESSAGE

[ GIL ] bro is your dad out of jail??? [ RICH ] this man just asked about you ash?? asking where his son was... but your old man is in jail? whats going on man? ill keep you updated.

a new year for a new change

a year is starting again, and ashton would follow up the korean traditions to start off the new year. it wasn’t something he was used too. customs in america were very different than in korea he knew that for sure. there were a lot of things to help him forget about the fact that his father could possibly be roaming the streets of san francisco looking for him. 

‘ auntie... have you heard anything.. about my father? ’ he asked, the thought still bothering him even though he would force himself not to think of the man whom almost ended his life again. as expected she told him no, and wondered why he would bring such a thing up so suddenly. 

‘ surely i could be a coincidence? ’

‘ but someone said that the man was looking for me? ’

‘ are you sure they aren’t trying to scare you? ’ 

a sigh escapes his lips as he goes back to the food in front of him, not particularly hungry and had lost his appetite a while ago he would still force himself to eat some of the food as it was probably considered rude not to eat. ‘ don’t think about it too much, you should go back to school a little early. maybe school will help you distract yourself further than just staying here. you can’t just not go to school, woojung. ’

‘ maybe... ’ he thought.  

it was that next day, he would began packing to return to keisung. this might be what he needed after all. ashton knew he couldn’t continue to ignore everyone who’ve been asking about his whereabouts. he would have to face them sooner or later. 

sooner is what he’d planned.