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#i only see him once or twice a year when we come here but ive known him for ever
bunnakit · 4 months
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last twilight e3 thoughts feelings etc
so in the past ive watched the episodes and digested them and come back and rewatched to put together my thoughts but im kinda crunched for time today and have a mountain of work to do sooo i'm just gonna do this in one sitting and i'm so sorry if it's not as good or as coherent as what i usually deliver aaa. it's also going to be a bit longer than normal probably but i'll try to cut down on stuff that seems unnecessary or maybe just too obvious to comment on.
OH ITS STILL REALLY LONG EVEN WITH EDITING I'M SO SORRY.
oh them being playful with each other is everything to me. oh my god and Mhok learned, he listened to Porjai and he learned to organize and clean and do things with Day as an active participant so he knows where everything is and is taking control of his own life. oh we're only 3 minutes in and i'm emotional, okay.
i do love that we get to see the way Day has isolated himself and that while his family haven't helped there's also a large part of it that is his doing. ive said it before but when you're newly disabled it can be so so easy to isolate yourself. hell, i've been diagnosed for almost 10 years and i still do it from time to time as my condition worsens because it's hard. there are so many questions you have to answer, there's the anxiety of not knowing if people are going to be accommodating to your needs, and sometimes it takes twice or even three times the energy it used to take before because every action is a little harder now. it can be terrifying to put yourself out there again and you will lose friends in the process. there will be people that don't understand, that find you to be an inconvenience, that won't make accommodations for you, and it will hurt every time but saying goodbye to those people is always ultimately for the better - but it doesn't make it hurt less. as much as i'd love the realism of it, i hope we don't have to see Day go through that.
Day's story about his friend is interesting, too. he says he doesn't want to be pitied by his friends but the thing is. they just did that, they accommodated their friend, and from the sound of it they did it without judgement. so why couldn't it be the same for him? it just shows more of his anxiety and his fear.
"once i'm ready you'll be the first to get my invitation card." Porjai and Mhok's friendship means so so fucking much to me.
"i felt like my life was worthless. all i saw in people's eyes was insult."
screaming. crying. throwing up. i don't need to say anything about this but i thought you all should know it made me ill.
here's the thing, my best friend and i dated in high school, we were 16 and fucking stupid and toxic and our home lives were shit and we took it out on each other and we made each other fucking miserable by the end of things. we didn't talk again for over five years. it took time to come back together, to heal and accept our own faults in what went wrong. we stumbled here and there as we came back together but now? almost 10 years later i don't know what i'd do without him. that's my platonic soulmate, that's the one person besides my husband i can share anything with. fuck, he knows more about my life than my husband does because he was there to see me at my worst, at the scariest point in my life where i almost wasn't around anymore to see tomorrow. that kind of friendship is so fucking special, i cannot even properly put it into words, and for Mhok to keep that? to have that with Porjai? i'm so fucking glad he has that. i'm so glad he got to keep his platonic soulmate.
small aside, i love that Mhok consistently announces himself to Day. it's a little action but it's so considerate. he's honestly doing such an incredible job.
Day puts his sunglasses on like armor; like they can shield him from the judging stares or looks of pity he can't see. maybe someday he won't need them, not because his heart has hardened to take the blows, but maybe because he knows Mhok is by his side. because remember - it's the way they look at us.
"i heard you wanted to take time off and focus on badminton" Night i'm going to drown you in your own toilet. this is just furthering my thoughts from episode 2 that Night is ashamed of his brother and his condition, or perhaps that the family is trying to hide his condition for some fucking stupid reason.
the bravery it took Day to come here and admit whats happening to his is huge, but i'm also in love with the admissions admin saying sure, you can have time off, but you're not allowed to quit. you're not allowed to give up on yourself.
"we must live with hope, Day" and that's it. you have to. you just have to. every day is going to be so hard and so much, you'll have good and bad days, but at least in all those days you'll have hope. and maybe someday that hope won't be for new eyes. maybe that hope will turn into acceptance, into determination, into pride at what you've accomplished in spite of it all. in my opinion, hope is an amazing fuel but it's not sustainable, it's just a vehicle to get you to where you need to be.
Mhok asking a blind man for a tour, oh fuck fuck fuckfuckufkcufk-- Mhok essentially saying show me your world exactly as you remember it, let me in. see how things have changed and how they've remained the same and do it with me by your side.
THE WAY MHOK SHIELDS HIM AT THE LIBRARY. DAY DOESN'T NEED TO WEAR HIS SUNGLASSES LIKE ARMOR BECAUSE MHOK IS BY HIS SIDE AS HIS SHIELD. chewing my own arm off brb.
"and you also have me. nothing to be afraid of" because i will always shield you, i will always protect you, i will stand by your side AAAA--
on part 3/4 now, i promise i'll shut the fuck up soon. if you've read this far pls take this as a smooch checkpoint, i'm giving you a little forehead smooch. have you had any water today? taken your meds? relax your shoulders, unclench your jaw.
ok back to it - Mhok continuously having Day make his own selections in these various machines. Day's fate is in his hands, he can do these things himself, but Mhok will be there with him the whole way.
"my eyes don't work well but my legs do just fine." this is such a massive leap from the man that wouldn't even leave his bedroom, from the man that was suffocating in his environment. Day is no longer a dying man, a shambling corpse. he is an active participant in his own life again.
"stay close to me, that's all i need" bitch i'm gonna throw up, you can't just hit me with that after that's all i've been saying this whole time what the fuck.
OH FUCK ME. okay. alright. hang on. so when they enter the shop Mhok describes it to Day, explains where the jeans are, where the shirts are, asks him what to do and what he wants to take a look at. this is a direct antithesis of Night in episode 1 asking where Day was going to wait for him, where he could leave him so he could get his shit done. Day isn't being asked to wait, to just sit idle while life passes him by, he's being asked what he wants to do, where he wants to go, what he wants to see. FUUUUUCK. and knowing Mhok is doing this because Day expressed that he liked dressing nicely? how the fuck am i supposed to just go to my job like a normal person after this episode.
wow the shirt buttoning scene just made me so mentally ill. right now, Mhok is doing his job. he's helping Day get dressed. but someday? someday this could be Mhok dressing Day not because he needs him to help but simply because Mhok likes doing to for Day. there's the sensuality of caring for your partner, of running your hands over the planes of their shoulders, of skimming your fingers down their chest to pluck every button. it's an exploration and a declaration of love. if we get this again in a future scene and it's something like that please remember me fondly because i will perish.
at the bookstore Mhok recognizing Day doesn't want to wait, but Day has become so accustomed to the other people in his life telling him what to do that he falls back into that behavior - but Mhok doesn't let him. he prioritizes Day's needs and desires, even if it's something as little as finding a book, without being asked.
THE LAST PAGE IS MISSING.
(because one can't see his future and the other can't see in the future, but also because they'll make their own ending, they'll face that when they get there, but they'll do it together -- what if i lost my shit completely of it?)
when Mhok leaves Day to get him a drink the camera is focused on Day and the clear warring emotions on his face but if you look in the background Mhok hesitates, he stops and turns a few times to look at day. he's reluctant to leave him and worried. Mhok worries so much but it's always so understated or in the background, covered by the emotions of others he values above himself. (or overlooked because of 'what type of person he is')
while its anxiety inducing i do enjoy this regression of behavior because adapting to a new life is hard. you will regress, you will stumble, you will fall into old habits or sometimes old fears will return. its what you do after that that is important. the one thing i hope doesn't happen is i hope this doesn't cause a rift with Porjai. i think Mhok needs her right now, maybe not forever, but definitely right now.
HE PUT ON THE FUCKING SHIRT. THE FUCKING SHIRT DAY COULD SEE FROM MARS. OH MY GOD. i know this doesn't need to be commented on, i know it's obvious, but FUUUUCK.
Day's mom trying to weaponize Mhok's past and Mhok taking the ammunition from her hands and telling Day himself. the acceptance of the past and the determination to move on and grow from it. Day's refusal to let the past repeat itself with a new caretaker. whoo boy.
and again Day wants to see Mhok, because even bruised and battered Mhok is worth seeing.
if the last episode ends with "sweet dreams/good night" i will be burying myself alive, thanks.
tagging @benkaaoi and @callipigio as requested (if you want to be added to my last twilight meta tag list just let me know!)
THE PINK SHIRT RUINING HIS BAD BOY IMAGE BECAUSE IT IS BEING RUINED. HE'S MOVING ON, HE'S GROWING, HE'S BECOMING A NEW PERSON. FUCK OFF.
i'm so so sorry this was so long, every episode makes me feel more and more things and makes me analyze shit more and more.
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altschmerzes · 9 months
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for those of you playing along at home, i made it through the funeral/memorial/whatever. honestly could’ve been worse.
this is long and probably tmi but im processing out loud ig. probably should just keep a journal instead but here we are.
yesterday sucked ass mostly because like. at some point in the last two years since i started law school/moved to canada my father sent me some package at my grandmother’s house. yes this is after i made it very clear i did not want to see or hear from him. years after i made that clear. he did this fairly regularly - tried to give me things or pass messages through my sister or my mother or grandmother. anyway she asked if i wanted it, i was like. uh. No. and i guess she kept it for Some Reason because when i was very briefly at her house before heading to where the memorial happened today she pointed me at a pile of my things she wanted me to look at and there was a package. and on autopilot or something because ive been completely f r i e d out of my gourd this weekend i made the mistake i havent made in YEARS and opened it.
and i gotta say if i were going to ignore my daughter’s very clearly communicated boundaries and attempt to get in touch with her after she made it extremely clear she did not want me to do that SIX YEARS AGO at the time my go-to method of somehow persuading her to drop her decision to go no-contact wouldn’t involve [checks notes] a pearl necklace and a three-plus page letter about how nothing was ever my fault.
threeeeeee and then some pages of self-pitying guilt trip about how everyone turned their backs on him and other people kept us apart (as if that was the problem, the years of his absence rather than the years of his abuse) and how he knows the alcohol was bad but he’s off it now! he’s had such a hard life! i should stop punishing myself and other people! he won’t be around forever! (ISNT THAT IRONIC. LMAO.) after finishing this letter he TWICE decided he needed to add extra bits about how things don’t have to be like this, they can be better, and how im making “uninformed decisions” about him without knowing “the whole story.”
yikes.
anyways. that sucked and fucked me up real bad but my fiancé and i burned it last night on the beach and i threw the pearls (pearls? really? PEARLS?????) into the pacific.
then today. it was honestly fine. none of his friends seemed to even know i refused to speak to him, as they talked to me like they were assuming i was around all the time and super involved in his life. not sure what to make of that but it made it very easy to smile and nod and thank them for coming and not worry about anything further than that. he knew some cool people honestly. they were pretty neat, and his partner of 11 years, effectively my stepmom, is kind of awesome tbh. no idea what she was doing with him. and also my sister only yelled at me in front of some 50+ people once. for my sister this was a win.
and my brother came.
that was….. shocking. i had been in contact with his mom on and off about this but it was NOT clear at all if he was gonna show up. i figured not, honestly, because he’s so hard to get ahold of and none of us have seen him since 2016. but he came. and he brought his kids. my nephew is going into fifth grade and my niece is starting second and oh my gd they’re great. they’re adorable and funny and such sweet kids and i hand to gd thought id never see them again. now it looks like they’re going to come to my wedding reception when we have one out here so my family can attend something. it’s…. i didnt think id ever see or speak to him again and definitely not the kids. but there they were. i stood next to my brother with his arm around my shoulders and mine around his waist while my mom gave a little speech to everyone who was there thanking them for coming and felt him breathing and couldn’t believe it was real. i dug around in the sand with my niece and my nephew must have hugged me about a half-dozen times. they’re good, sweet kids and my brother is a kind, patient father.
tomorrow’s gonna suck, taking a redeye home, gonna land at like 5 am tuesday and then have to cross my fingers and hope border control is chill with me, this whole situation has been a complete nightmare (except for my wife being there, thank gd) but today was as good as it possibly could’ve been. it’s probably gonna take me a while to really like….. even out from this, i think, but it’s almost over and then i get to live the rest of my life without worrying about ever seeing that man again.
what he did to me is going to follow me the rest of my life but HE won’t because he’s fucking dead and im alive and that means i won.
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delusional-cannibal · 9 months
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Help me get my baby cremated
Sorry all it's a spange/ vent post
he/him btw
Tw medical mistreatment, pregnancy, abortion/miscarrige?
TLDR: hospital messed up, had to lose my baby, have to figure out creamation
Hey so I'm not really sure on how to do this so I'l start when I got sick
I got sick around september last year. (constant vomiting lasting over a week happening 20 hours a day, unable to eat or drink) with many trips to after hours and the ED constant tests and being put on IV drips they said it was some type of hyperemesis and to food diary ect
From then I'm on new meds and am coping better with an attack every few weeks lasting a week (sometimes lining up with menstration sometimes not) Still in hospital at least once but up to 4 times a month ( usually in the same week)
So march I come in very sick they do bloods and pee tests and check everything, they say I'm probably either too stressed or I have bulimia. (Ive had mental health issues in the past but I know when I'm getting bad with my eating and I had been doing a lot better)
April I come in 3 times and again lots of bloods taken and other samples given ect. I must be stressed or disordered
May I come in twice and again tests and again "theres nothing wrong with you, youre stressing yourself out
June I come in and they tell me I am 3 month pregnant. There are blood test results from early April saying I was pregnant but because the pee stick tests were all negative,no one,,,,, checked,, my bloods,, for 3 months.
I find that out on sunday the 11th. They show me ultrasounds, they refer to it as a baby and a child multiple times. They then tell me I wont be able to have him. I'm no where near well enough to make it to term and I would most likely not be able to carry him without high risk of still birth. On monday I get a rough phone call saying they can see me for surgery on thursday. I was 13 week and 4 days so 3 more days and I would have had to wait until it got worse and probably have to stillbirth/false labour. So i had the surgery and now I am left here feeling hollow and wrong with a jar in my freezer that would have been my son.
I dont know if I would have kept him or adopted him but this is not what i wanted, epecially not being this far along.
I am absolutely pro abortion/prochoice and if i had only been a month or so or if i hadnt seen him that then would have been the choice for me. But being over a third of the way and being told "Hey you're a third there! but you cant do it even if you want it bad enough" was just gut wrenching.
A friend will be helping me complain but thats the last thing on my mind. Like just a week ago i was worried about watering the plants i had been neglecting for a speel and this week I am trying to figure out how to organize and pay for my babys cremation.
How does life even do these thing man?
Like I've had a rough time as it is with CSA and being homeless for periods, but the csa court case was mostly over, and i had found a nice person, and am living in the first house where i haven't been mistreated and I'm making a home and tmi but i had sex for the first times since i was assulted last year and it had only been a few times with condoms each time and they day after pill when one broke? And then this, like I was just getting my life back and now i get to watch it fall apart again.
Sorry for the rant, thanks everyone
my paypal is [email protected] I'm from nz so we dont have the venmos/cashapps
and
https://givealittle.co.nz/cause/help-me-get-my-sweet-boy-cremated
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mars101 · 5 months
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Act 1: -> Scene 2: mama got busy
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WRITTEN PART -> (0.8) -> more ss after
“soooo… now can you show us?”
the girls had arrived on the island and yin was now bringing the two for a walk along the beach, her hands held onto a diary with a sparkling cover.
“hold on yuna! we've got to at least be away from the docks, the only people who know is us.”
“wait, you didn't tell jay? it's his wedding too”
yin turns around to face the girls while walking backwards in front of them, the diary now clutched close to her chest as they're more farther away from people.
“okay well, i was going to tell him… tomorrow..”
the two scoff in disbelief at yin, “yeah you're going to tell him. when all three of your dads are walking down the damn isle with you.”
“KARINA!”
she throws her hands up in defense, “we know you, just make sure to try.” karina shares a look with yuna.
the bride opens the diary to a bookmarked page and turns it to the girls. “ive already read it once, maybe twice and.. you two can see for yourself.” yin hands over the book to yuna who's eyes start to sparkle in delight before she even started to read. “woah..”
“yin your mom got busy”
karina starts to flip the pages before she's even finished reading one, “twelve whole pages of them??” yuna looks at you with shock and amusment, “filled front to back too” yin shuts her eyes while covering her face, “in detail…”
“our poor baby~”
“i think the boat is still here, lets leave honey”
“i am NOT leaving with you two, you need to stop”
karina takes the diary from yuna and starts to read the first page, “your mom is a fun writer, “july 17th, what a night! last night-” Wait.. your wedding day is the day your mom got knocked up??” yin scratches her head while looking away from the two.
“okay well, i didn't know until i found it.. but it means something right, i thought it did when i saw the date.. which is why i invited all three of them…”
“you keep on acting before thinking.. ok well easy solution to this. first man in is your dad”
yin and yuna cringe at the words “please word that differently, and the first man in does not mean hes the dad, it just matters on which one reaches first”
“yeah so first one in is the dad which is.. lee hyunjae, hes your dad. im betting on it”
“hmmm no, thats not how that works.”
“how would you know yuna?”
“i asked a lot of questions when i was in health class”
yin shakes her head at the two, “whichever one is my dad is the one i feel a connection to, like once i see them i just will know.”
“as if, you find connections in everything.”
“yin, one of these men is your dad, but i just know you will end up feeling connected to all of them.”
yin links her arms with the two as she brings them along towards her mom's hotel on the island, the walk filled with exclamations as they continue to read from the diary.
the building wasn't anything too fancy, it was nice and cozy and brought warmth to the girls every time they visited yin.
“Here come the bridesmaids! Oh look at you three~ So beautiful!”
“mom! oh my god you scared me”
“y/n!”
Yuna and Karina rushed to hug Y/n as she appeared, they shove the diary in Yin's hands as she moves it to behind her back away from her view. The two ease into Y/n's embrace as her hands caress their heads, “Was the ride here alright? Yuna, i know you get seasick.” The two girls are trying to hide smirks and giggles as they look at Y/n after reading her diary.
“awe mama~ i did get a little sick, and it’s yin’s fault” yuna points at yin while clinging onto her mom, her action makes Y/n chuckle. “mom! she literally kept on texting me while i told her to stop. she’s a liar~” Yin pulls Yuna away from Y/n, and she's now caging the girl's arms in a hug, karina joins them, pulling both of them into a hug.
With a soft look in Y/n's eyes at the sight of the three she start to feel a bit sad inside, “The three of you have grown so well, even you Karina despite me meeting you only a few years ago. Oh, I can't believe my baby is getting married~” Her hands rest on Yin's cheeks to kiss her forehead, giggles escaping her lips. “The next ferry's about to arrive. I have to go pick up your aunts.”
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synopsis = a day before her wedding day, Yin decides to find her father so he can walk her down the isle, the problem? There's three candidates: Lee Juyeon, Kim Younghoon, and Lee Hyunjae.
last/next
masterlist
taglist:
@boomhoon , @sanasour, @loonaluvz, @jaerisdiction, @cowsmicwu
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freshrained · 1 year
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BOY WITHOUT A CAR / A.I
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Requested; no, but requests are open!
Pair; Ashton x reader
Note; first longer writing that im posting to Tumblr, and its sort of an au, based in 2013/2014. this has been sitting in my drafts for almost two years and it just needs to be posted lol, please be kind & i would love any type of feedback. more to come
Prompt; somewhat based off of boy without a car by the vamps
Word count; 1k
———
He sat there under the tree just glancing at her while trying to remember the rhythms he had to know for band practice later.
It was his typical spot, usually to just watch her with her friends. Everyday he'd come to the same tree in the courtyard of school. Most of the time it was a way for him to get away from his friends that were pissing him off, but he just wanted to see her, other than at 3AM.
He knew her, but she didn’t talk to him while they were at school, or public in general. He understood though, she was popular and he wasn’t. He was just in a lame band and he didn’t quite have himself figured out.
His fingers had stopped moving and he realized that he was staring at her, when she glared back he knew he had to leave. He just wanted to talk to her, tell her how he felt, but he knew she wouldn’t feel the same way about him.
hey pretty face, I need to tell you something xx
He sent it as soon as he was out of her sight. He couldn’t get over her, and the fact that he knew she didn’t even care about the ‘friends’ she was with, even if she never really got close with them.
Ashton knew she didn’t get close to anyone, but he was an exception, and he still didn’t understand the girl.
“Bro you’re late. Again,” Calum muttered, confused to who he had been texting, and he used to never be late to a band practice.
“I know, just kinda got caught up at school,” Ashton didn’t even think twice about his answer and avoided eye contact with the dark haired boy.
“Ash, come on that’s been your excuse for the last week, what the hell is going on?” Calum quirked a brow, not putting up with his bullshit.
“Calum, I’m serious, school has been kicking my ass and I’ve been trying to learn new songs, promise it won’t happen again,” he looked up at Calum, defeated because he didn’t want Calum to be disappointed in him.
“Just fucking play the songs,” Calum spat, hoping Ashton would spill at some point what he was actually doing.
“Stop being such a fucking asshole, Calum,” Luke glared at him, being the only person to know what Ashton was dealing with, he knew Ashton was being lead on, he knew Ashton was gonna get hurt at some point. He tried to tell Ashton and he wouldn’t listen.
“Guys its fine, he’s right, I’ve been late recently, I’ll step it up,” Ashton mumbled while sitting on the drum stool, hoping they would just drop the subject.
“How do we expect him to be on time when he doesn’t have a car and rides a bike?” Michael spoke up, trying to help Ashton out, even though he didn’t really know what was happening.
———
Once band practice was over, Ashton didn’t even know what to do. He still had 4 hours until he could go and meet her, so he decided to keep texting her and he knew it was a bad idea.
You know, ive never met a girl like you
Im glad i did though
Because you always have me wanting more
She never responded to him, but it was normal. He’d text her, she wouldn’t respond and they would still end up meeting at 3AM anyways. It was always at the park, and even though she didn’t wanna be seen with him, she went with it, and has kept with it.
3:01AM
“Ash you’re late,” she faintly smiled, hoping he would sit next to her.
“I know, just kind of confused because you still show up, and still meet me here. And I know you don’t get close to anyone. I’m just wondering how we got this far I guess,” he rambled taking the seat next to her. Ashton was so caught up in looking at her, he didn’t even realize she was speaking to him.
“I don’t know, you’re just easy to talk to I guess, you understand me, trust me I’m surprised we still meet every night too,” she hoped she didn’t lead him on because it was all fun in the beginning until she caught feelings for the boy she couldn’t be seen with.
“Don’t quite understand how this happened though, like I’m just a boy without a car, you have a car, you have guys lined up with cars that want to date you.  I ride my bike everywhere, and that’s no way to get around. like girls like you don’t talk to guys like me. and it’s so easy to talk to you, like I literally pour my heart and soul out to you and you don’t ever judge me, I just wish you felt the same way about me,” the last part he whispered, hoping she didn’t catch it.
“Fuck Ashton, if you had any idea about the way I felt about you, you wouldn’t be left high and dry all of the time,” she looked up at him, thankful something was finally being done about it.
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He was confused, especially because she felt the same way towards him, even if she ignored him at school and wouldn’t ever respond to his messages.
“If it hasn’t been obvious this whole time, I like you, and I love talking to you, I know I might not be good at showing that, but if you wouldn’t be a dumb boy for 2 seconds you would know I like you back and would of interacted with you more,” she was messing with the hole in her jeans, becoming more nervous by the second because she really did like him and wished she hadn’t treated him the way that she did.
“y’know, you’re like rain, I love to drown myself in it,” Ashton smiled, glad his feelings finally got across to her.
“Glad to say that I feel the same way,”  she smiled, thankful for all of the times they met up to talk at 3AM.
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honeystwiggypeach · 2 years
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So Ive been reading your haikyuu "didn't know they where dads" and was wondering if you could maybe do one for suga and daichi.
Ps they are great and super cute
I definitely can!! I’m so glad that you liked it!! I think they’re very interesting to write since I rarely write conflict!!(just letting you know that I’ve only written for Daichi once and idk if it was to good…) for Sugas I changed it a little!! Also!! I should start working on the prompt list soon just wanted to say that!
I am so sorry for how long this took! I was in school and my school is like I think an hour or two longer than the average school here😭😭
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Tw- drunken one night stands(suga), probably cursing, arguements, let me know if I missed something!
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Suga
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He’d be ecstatic, he’d always wanted to be a dad. Your precious daughter was the result of a drunk one night stand and you had met Suga only a few times from a friend before, you couldn’t really careless though, she was amazing and your favorite person always asking if she could draw pictures with you when you’d try and write things. The problem was really that you didn’t know how to contact him as said friend ended up breaking their friendship with him.
Unfortunately, Yui was starting school today, unfortunate for you not her. Yui was insanely excited to start school as she bounced on her feet asking if you guys could leave yet.
“Just a second honey, a few more things and let mommy get a photo please?” You tell her as you open up your camera app, you see her pose and you snap a few photos.
“Ok ready?” She nods happily.
When you walked into the building there he was, his eyes widen dramatically as he drops his gaze to the little girl who’d suddenly gone nervous at the idea of being left here.
“Suga?” You ask quietly and he nods, it’s evident that he knows Yui is his daughter, it wasn’t like she didn’t look like him, she had a similar mole near her eye, his eye and hair color, and a matching piece of hair that as much as you tried to flatten simply wouldn’t stay.
“So this is uhmmm” he motions toward Yui and you know what he’s trying to ask, you nod a bit.
“I tried to contact you but you know with everything…maybe we can talk about this after school” you suggest as he nods taking hold of Yui’s hand as be guides her to sit with the rest of the kids.
“I’d like that”
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Daichi
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It ended bitterly, you couldn’t grasp that his job wasn’t dangerous.
“Daichi, and what do I do if you piss someone off one day and they hurt you?”
“That’s not going to happen!” He yells right back and before you knew it it was over.
Too stupid of an argument to apologize for as the both of you had taken it too far.
But almost a whole year later, you’ve got two precious babies, a boy and a girl and they’re the lights of your life.
“Good morning my loves” you coo turning the lights on in their nursery as they smile and giggle bouncing in their cribs, “who wants to go to the park?” You ask as if they could understand.
It felt like you’d been in the house for days, besides the sun was good for them. So you loaded them up into the double stroller and buckled them in placing a few snacks on the tray to keep them occupied as they giggled and babbled.
You smiled softly letting your mind lead your legs to the park not even thinking twice to go down main street…coincidentally the same street Daichi directs traffic on…
So when his eyes widen at the sight of you you begin speed walking down the street as he calls after you buzzing on his walkie talkie for someone to take over his position.
By the time he’d reached you he was panting hands on his knees as you leaned over the stroller the babies cooing happily.
“Daichi” you speak, your words come out sharp and harsh, harsher than you intend.
“Listen I just wanted to say I’m sorry, I see you moved on had kids,” his heart wants to break at the idea.
“Daichi” you mumble
“that’s fine, I just want you to know I still love you.” He finally catches his breath as you roll your eyes.
“Are you done?” He nods as you pull back the little visor on the stroller.
“They’re definitely yours…I didn’t settle down at all and I love you as well but we’re kind of a package deal babe” you tell him in almost a joking manner.
He’s nodding the most serious look on his face as he looks down at the twins both staring right back up, eyes the same dolor of brown as his are.
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Pls let me know if you want to request anything because I love writing requests so much!!
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beatrixacepanda · 2 years
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Hello Again!
First of all, apologies from me for posting extremely late. School isn’t taking it easy on me. 😥
This is based off my previous post for my
AU! Platonic Yandere Michael.
Question #1
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I said I would go into detail later on so here we go!
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Michael’s possessiveness comes from two main reasons.
Reason #1: Evan is all he has left
The day Michael woke up, was also the day his life would take a horrifying turn. The nurses had to give him the sad news of the events that happened (obviously) when they found out who exactly was their patient. Michael was devastated and was in denial at first. Later on, he would accept the truth and this gave him more of a reason to be there for his brother.
Michael knows that he was to blame for the incident of the Bite of 83. Ever since that day he would wake up screaming Evan’s name in the middle of the night, only to wake up in his bedroom and realize it was just a bad dream. The thing was that his nightmare was real and Evan was in critical condition to the point where he was left in a coma.
That’s when he remembered that he hasn’t heard about the whereabouts of his baby brother. He asked one of the nurses what hospital he was in and if she knew a patient by the name of Evan Afton. Remember, Michael was sent to a different hospital but he doesn’t know that.
The nurse didn’t think it was a good idea. She knew who the Aftons were and what had happened to the youngest child through the television. But Michael didn’t take the news of his family’s death well so for now all she said was that the name of the hospital but she didn’t know anyone by the name Evan Afton.
It was only a matter of time until Michael found out about his brother being sent to an orphanage. He heard about it from the newspaper.
The newspaper was a few months old but it gave him enough information about the fire and Evan. How he had woken up a few days after the fire and had been sent to an orphanage.
Michael thought Evan must have been terrified! To wake up in a hospital wondering where your parents are and why weren’t they sitting beside his bed, just like he had. Only to find out they have been killed and you didn’t even get to say goodbye. And to top it off, you’re sent to an orphanage the next day and adopted by a bunch of strangers.
Michael reached a terrifying thought: He might never see his little brother again. This drove him into a path of despair. Without Evan, he has nothing left in this world. The rest of his family is already gone. Without thinking twice, he had yanked out his IV causing a stinging pain at once.
He looked at the newspaper one more time before heading out one of the exit doors from the hospital the moment he saw the hallway was clear.
Reason #2: Jealousy
(Time Skip: 2 years later)
Michael is 15 and Evan is 10.
Around this time, Michael finally manages to track down Evan. Michael finds himself in New York City.
Michael started stalking Evan when he realized Evan didn’t know who he was. When he decided to talk to Evan the first time in 2 years, his baby brother said he was confused and that he only had one older brother (he’s talking about his older adoptive brother). Michael is heartbroken at this and wonders if he really ruined his relationship with Evan to the point where Evan had be this defensive. Or could it be because of his burns that he doesn’t seem recognizable. The house fire did a big number on his appearance.
Later on, Michael would find out Evan has amnesia and has problems remembering the past.
Michael didn’t want to scare away his brother but still wanted to know what Evan’s life had been like in the past 2 years since he hadn’t been a part of it. So in his mind, he thought he wasn’t stalking but simply “watching from afar”. He started taking note about everything Evan had been doing: What time he left home for school, when was it recess or lunch at school, when was it his bedtime, etc.
Another reason as to why Michael follows Evan all around New York is for Evan’s safety. It’s a big city, anything can happen. A robbery, attempted murder, homicide, etc. He almost lost Evan on 1983, he won’t let an accident like that happen again.
After a while, he decided to leave gifts for Evan. He buys like a dozen animatronic plushies and leaves them on the doorstep of where Evan lives, knowing how much his brother used to love them. He also starts leaving snacks, chips, candies, ya name it.
Michael tries to talk to him repeatedly and Evan refuses because he thinks Michael looks scary, because of his scars of course. He’s merely a child therefore he doesn’t know any better. After multiple encounters with Michael, he decides to tell his family about the strange guy that he has been bumping into for several weeks already that seem too . . . Coincidental.
Michael tried to take it easy on his brother because Evan isn’t at fault that he can’t remember. But he becomes impatient.
He had been waiting for 2 god damn years for this, only to stand aside and watch how Evan prefers that family over him. How Evan would choose them over his real brother, the only one alive that shares his skin and blood. He know’s what he did is wrong but he came here to mend his mistakes and life can’t seem to give him even that.
This is when Michael’s stalking takes it to a whole new level
He then starts following the whole entire family. Trying to see what the hell made them better and he was only considered second best.
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anaalonsoartist · 2 years
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About Vecna´s motivation (towards Eleven). Stranger Things 4 SPOILERS
And here comes today´s entry about Vecna/001/Henry Creel (and there are “only” 2 years left till season 5... sigh).
Yesterday I was talking with my pal about why Vecna has not killed Eleven (yet?), when he has had more than one opportunity to do so. 
The thing is... 001 REALLY helped Eleven. I mean, he was clearly manipulating her, but the help was also undeniable, For example, when he tells her that some rest or distraction sometimes is better or the thing about a sad and infuriating memory (he... did not need to say that? He was also tortured by Brenner after he saw them talking like that). Or when he advices her that 002 and the others plan to kill her after he has recovered. The thing is... he tried to get her out of the lab because of that (before 002 should go out of the nurse and kill her... oh, and that was a credible possibility, by the way). 001 even shows 011 the tunnel out (how did he know the way? Hmmm), even if he couldn´t scape with her himself because of Soteria. What if 011 had accepted and ran away then? 001 would stay still in the lab and she could have scaped before the events of Stranger Things (and getting killed by 002). Here also comes to my mind the fact that only 2 years before that (in 1977, as Becky Ives told Hopper and Joyce in season 1) Terry Ives tried to get 011 out of the lab herself, but without success (a situation that 001 is aware of...). So... yes, 001 was manipulating her, but also genuinely helping her. But why?
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The only valid reason I find  by now is that they are related (I have previously written about this here, here and here). Because if 001 is just identifying himself with her (because, not forget, he is a BIG narcisist)... how and when did this begin? 011 is not that similar to 001. Will, for example, is (and that´s probably why Vecna went after him first once he “had controled” the Upside Down...). She was one of the weakest subjects at first glance, good natured and kind. Even physically they are not that similar (011´s eyes and hair colour comes from her mother and aunt). The only similarity is that 001 felt attacked during his childhood, but even then we have not seen him being bullied (like Eleven was...). And I doubt very much that the rest of children subjects were not also attacked in one way or the other (they are experiments, after all...). Eleven and Will are not that similar, either. So... where are the supposed similarities that 001 would have seen in 011? That´s why I also think 011 is his child, because that´s where the attachment should come from. More so in a narcisist, who probably thinks his child is an extension of him.
Let´s see now the differences between Vecna´s approach to 011 and to Will (who, yeah, is more similar to Henry Creel...). Vecna has not shown any hesitation in possessing Will (because I think this was Vecna´s doing all this time), even if that ends in Will´s ultimate death. But he has not shown any interest in possessing 011. In fact, looks like he does not want to kill her. The only time we have seen 001 almost killing 011 was when she discovered his massacre in the lab and almost frustrated his scape (he also procured that she was not involved in this before, by the way...). And even then he took his time (and thanks to that she could finally defeat him). He even mutters “that was not supposed to end like this” twice (one in 4x07 and in 4x09). In 4x09 also he does not pretend to kill her (even if he himseld has noticed that they are “not that similar”), but to punish her (because of what he feels like her “betrayal”) by watching how he kills her friends and destroys the world. Which is a very psycho and narcisist thing to do: you are not going to kill your “little you”, but he is trying to dominate her.
 The other “weird” thing in Vecna´s behaviour towards 011 is that... he is pretty “touchy” with her? And I don´t think that´s in a sexual way (uuuuuuugggggggh she is 9-14, for God´s sake...). In 4x07 he is often touching her, like grabbing her hand when they are running out, or by the end when she discovers him and he touchs her face in a clearly condescendent way. In 4x09 he also touchs her face, but in a (well, apart from creepy, which it is) “tender” way, because you can see his hand clearing her tears. He does not touch Max (uuugh...) like that (even if there is some creepiness, too) nor Nancy. These remind me the ways a father would console his crying child (creepiness apart in this case, of course...). 
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So, I think the purpose of Vecna towards Eleven is that he joins him in his destroying of the world (like he himself has said), because he must think that she is his extension, his creation, his Henry Creel 2.0. Somewhat like Vader wanted Luke to join him and rule the galaxy together “like father and son”. I think this will be fundamental in Vecna´s definitelly defeat in season 5.
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hailieshapedbox · 1 year
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my younger cousin has a lot of mental health issues and its really affecting everyone in the house n we dont know how to help him help himself/: its a bit tormenting on everyone. ive tried to help a lot but i had to stop bc it was affecting my mental health and he started be really mean, now i see why everyone has to minimize how much they can help and be around. i just gotta vent real quick though bc i cant take this sometimes. my uncle missed his psych appointment with his main dr. twice and had me reschedule it bc his assistants that fuck everything up, had it all fucked up. i made my uncle buy a whiteboard to keep track of all his shit bc i have enough projects for myself, i texted him multiple times throughout the week about the appointment and helped with other reminders on top of other things for his business (and his friends jewelry start up). i texted him the day before and the day before that about the appointment, i put a post it note on the coffee maker that his friend just let fall aside and got coffee all over (but still it was right on the counter), and he still woke me up to ask me what time it was at and even had the nerve to tell me to get ready in an hour to “help get him going and get him over there”. bruh i went back to sleep, i was up for 2 hours tryna sleep laying there like a dead fish or whatever they say n barely got a couple hours. ive told him so many times ive been dealing with insomnia and he just thinks everyone has trouble sleeping and doesnt understand n ive told him im underweight and how i have no energy and its like nobody ever hears me when i ask for help. hes woken me up probably 10x now n i started hurting myself tbh bc my peace was being too intruded. i got handle and control of that though, i dont wanna hurt myself you know. but only coping method that ever helped. whatever when i got up i did knock on my cousins door n ask if he heard his dad and i texted him bc he didnt say anything. i went to go work out. when my uncle got home he saw me working out and tried to get me to go with and ik its only bc he wants me to sit in the office so he can nap in the car. i even made a joke about it and he agreed laughing and went to go take a nap. instead of going to tmobile to get this kid a new sim card that hes been needing and begging for for going on two months. lmao bruh i try
this was just one morning i could write books of diary entries accumulating my emotions but i dont have time for that tbh im procrastinating n finally writing out bc i just want this week to be over i want it to be monday i want it to be next month when my brothers getting here and my mom comes over and imma make ed come back in town.
idk if yall noticed but until valentines day, i hadnt posted anything the entire month of february. took this long being single to realize valentines day is my favorite holiday and i couldnt missy opportunity to share my heart. i even posted on iG for the first time in like a year. i love love, its all i am, its all i need.
ive had so many post ideas too, but everyone is asking so much of me. its crazy because a few months ago i fucking begged the universe for more responsibility and god damn did i get it, im really trying hard to manage and stay aligned any way i can. im getting close to getting really good. im tryna get there so soon bc i see it through so clear but i just cant. even stopped drinking and cut back on weed a bit bc i just dont have time for it.
i had a whole other thing to rant about and i could have so many others, does kinda help to vent it especially writing. i forgot what it was once i started writing about valentines day and happier things. its funny how easy it is to flow into different emotions, yet so hard to control that and discipline that. even when i then after put myself into my happiest spaces, just doesnt always work. thats why when i see the opportunity for happiness i take it and thats why i dont get stuck on things easy, i hate stagnacity (wrote a song about that the other day). not easily influenced, but easily inspired. music actually usually does it. well imma go see if it still smells like campfire in the shower n do that or something else productive n try to make the most of whats left of the day. fuck i usually post this kinda stuff in the middle of the night so not to many people see it, i try not to be a bother or negative. love you all always
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faeflowerz · 2 years
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY ORTHO SHROUD 🤖💙
Oh my god.
Oh my god.
I'm a little drunk while writing this so let's see if i can't stay on track 
Uhm i was gonna post Idia first but imma just…quietly wait for his birthday to come back around. But this isn't about him. It's about Ortho.
My light. My joy. My love. Okay let's do this.💙💙💙
Also, here is a disclaimer: while I do find Ortho to be a cute lil guy, he's also capable of being a romantic interest. It would go against his arc and characterization if he is treated differently despite being on par with the other students in mentality and maturity. Original Ortho would be the same age as the other first years and so, I treat RobOrtho the same. If that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to find another blogger.
Let's chat about Ortho!
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It's been a big year for Ortho, huh? Chapter 6 really was a good arc for him. And I was struggling through those battles once I heard he was going to get a school uniform. Let me tell you, that wasn't a walk in the park.
What I love about his arc is that Ortho wants to explore and learn. While he 'knows' everything, he doesn't 'know' everything, you know? Like, being an official student may seem redundant because the material is easy for him to find and parrot back. But he's never gotten to know what it's like to tutor someone. To sit and chat with his friends, skip classes, or go shopping for himself. Hell, even writing an essay on his own is new for him. Ortho is gonna have to *create* his personality. 
He's becoming an artist. Ortho joined the film club. How cool is that? How will Ortho utilize his observations on humanity and mimic that for a movie? What can he learn from the stories he performs? And what if he was given the chance to make his own script? Film it? Direct it? There's a lot of potential for him and Vil sees it in him. Ugh its so fuckin good! Imagine if he gets into fashion and makeup?! It's exactly what he needs to feel "real". 
He also fits perfectly with the first years. I've already seen yall putting him in art and it's the only thing that keeps me alive. Ortho has to help hold the brain cell since at least three of them would drop it. It's good that he's with the babies because he's learning how to have friends and can grow with them. 
His FG is so good too. Like i'm kicking myself bc i don't have it. Like…he's enjoying the things we as humans wouldn't think twice about. He said that he was considered a magical tool before. An object. That fuckin cuts deep. Like.
Imagine being created in the image of a dead child and being vulnerable to having your being changed or altered at the whims of your creator/brother. You're designed after a real boy and behave like a real boy more or less. So u get to tag along with your brother and you see people having fun, making friends, growing up and being an individual. 
But you can't be one. You aren't considered a person. You're just your brother's thing. You're a thing to them. Like, Idia already avoids school life as if it's a major inconvenience but Ortho wants it. He wants indivality and agency over his life. And he has it. He's always been a real boy, but society didn't accept it. But there's no denying it, especially when he's creating art, which involves feelings. It involves developing ideas, thoughts and emotions and putting it into something that represents you. 
He designed his own FG gear. It's an aesthetic design. He's wearing shoes in his union gear. SHOES! HE'S STEEZY AS FUCK. 
Oh oh, it's cute that he chose Pomefiore as his second dorm. Not only would he look stunning in that uniform, his interest in Rook is hilarious. I'd imagine ortho already has a habit of following or taking obsessive notes about people. So if Rook is being stalked, that just…thats cash money. 
What I want answered is why he doesn't like lighting and if that will play a part in chapter 7. It could be related to fucking with his circuitry. But I think it's trauma based. It would be groovy if it was trauma based. That'd be so good.
As ive said in my disclaimer i feel that Ortho should be seen as the student he is. We've established his intelligence level, his maturity and his agency as a character in the story. He's not a baby. While he does have a cutesy voice that throws off the audience, he would be considered 16 like his friends. Treating him like a child is doing his character a disservice because Ortho is rapidly changing and maturing. I would say he has always been fair game but the fans infantilized him to the point where they gave him the stamp of child rather than teenager. I want to see English fans take him more seriously.
💙 i love his voice. So much. It's cutesy and when he says off the cuff shit, it's funny as fuck
Uhm my brainrot wants to gush about everything i love about him. So…
💙 those eyes! Those eyes. My favorite card is his first birthday card. Just…ahhh!
💙 his heart is where the students keep their pens. That's a nice touch 
💙 hes so??? Small??? Hehe so small!!
💙 i like when he gets cocky. Hes definitely picked up some of Idia's cockiness when it comes to his abilities as a robro. Like bro 
💙 "I'm being a good boy!" Shut the front door, that's such a darling thing to say
💙 he's probably the only social butterfly in Ignihyde. 
💙 hes so considerate of people's feelings. Hes so sweet!
💙 teeth
What i wanna see next? Uhh more costumes! Im gagging to see him in all kinds of crazy ass outfits now!! I also wanna see him dunk on his brother a little more. 
Okay, i simped enough for this guy. This cute, wonderful, small, sassy, clever, funny beautiful guy. Gyaaah!
Happy Birthday Baby Boy!
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nontoxic-writes · 2 years
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I would really like to know about the Apocalypse AU and the original novel!
AHH thank you!
The apocalypse au is one ive been tinkering with on and off that started from an ask meme here on tumblr (the post is here, if you’re interested!), that i apparently started a year and a half ago lmao
Im super stuck on it, but i open it often and try to make words happen because i do love it. Here’s an extra-long snippet because it’s an enemies-to-lovers fic and this is the only bit written so far that actually shows that WHOOPS
"Grab that red backpack from the bed, will ya? I'll grab the food."
David glances into the bed of the truck, the red backpack tucked innocuously between his two suitcases, just out of arm's reach. He's going to have to climb up. He really doesn't—
"David?" He blinks rapidly, and sees Patrick standing next to him, a smaller, grey and yellow backpack slung over one shoulder. "You good?"
"Mm! Mmhmm. I'm… I'm great. Why wouldn't I be great? This is just so… so great, you know? I'm stranded at the mercy of a total stranger, in the middle of the woods, off a… a dirt road I couldn't even begin to find my way to, about to sleep on the ground in my three thousand dollar sweater—"
"Three thou—?!"
"And it's going to be dark soon and that's when the moths come out, and I just know they'd love to get their dusty little mouths all over this sweater, and now I'm supposed to… climb into this truck and get your camping gear?!"
Patrick blinks at him, once, twice, three times — he's practically batting his eyelashes at David in confusion. "Honestly, I was with you for the first part, the whole world has gone to shit, but the thing that broke you is having to pick up a backpack?!"
"It's a fugly backpack!"
Patrick doesn't blink at him this time. His gaze is steady, hardened. "Okay, well, I see my mistake in trying to keep you safe from desperate strangers and graciously offering to share my sleeping accommodations with you. I was going to offer to sleep on the ground and give you the sleeping pad, but you know, I think maybe I'll keep the tent and the protection it offers from moths for myself. You can have the bed of the truck."
Patrick tosses down his grey backpack with a thud that sends a spark of worry down David's spine — that has the food in it! — and hauls himself into the truck bed with ease, all masculine lines and useful strength. His legs don't clear the height, but it's fine, because he's able to haul himself up by his impressive shoulders, his biceps bulging as he does.
He grabs the red backpack and pulls harshly, sending David's suitcase skittering across the truck bed.
David whimpers.
Patrick freezes.
It's a standoff for a second, Patrick's back to David so he can't even attempt to get a read on his face.
Then Patrick's shoulders relax a bit, and he sighs. "We can share the tent. Just… grab the other bag, please?"
David does so without complaining about how the dirt it's now covered in is getting on his sweater. It's the most magnanimous he can be right now.
He pretends to dig through for dinner as Patrick sets up the tent and ends up deciding to make them a simple peanut noodle dish.
He just… has to wait for Patrick to set up the stove, too.
He stalls long enough while sorting through the pack that Patrick eventually does just huff out an irritated breath and sets up the stove on a tree stump. David watches out of the corner of his eye so he can do this next time so Patrick doesn't have the satisfaction of thinking David is incapable.
"What are you doing?" Patrick asks when David sets out the ingredients.
David glances down at the haul in his hands. "I—"
"The peanut butter is for lunches. I've carefully rationed the food for maximum nutrition payoff, and we're already splitting it so I—"
"Can you just let me do this one thing?" David snaps. "Whatever, if you want to eat boiled rice and beans, that's fine, but I was going to make some poor imitation of pad thai with this and I don't see why you're so concerned about my helping if you won't even let me help."
Patrick just looks at him. "Fine."
"Fine."
This… is longer than i thought whoops.
As for the original novel, like i said, it’s a childhood best friends to high school rivals to adult roommates to lovers story that’s basically just a love letter to my small town in Ohio. I’m realizing my mistake including this in the list since combing through 96,000 words of a VERY rough, unedited draft for a snippet is a nightmare and i’ve now been looking at it for like half an hour and haven’t found one lol im so sorry (but also not because again, its ROUGH and no one should have to read that)
Ask me about my wips!
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Text
Assassin’s Creed IV: Black Flag part 38
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I finally did it! I made it to the Observatory!! After so long, the next mission I went to was where Roberts took me to the Observatory and it was really amazing. I even stayed up way too late to finish it. I had to sneak around and take out the island’s guardians and I wanted to complete the optional objectives, and I did, but it took twice as long. Then once I finally made it, I was betrayed. Completely sucked. Anyway, below is what I did.
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I went over to where the next mission was and it turned out to be where I was supposed to find the treasure from the map I had, it was called Long Bay. I had to keep an eye out for it. I met up with Roberts who was waiting for me. Kenway asked why he was the only one who could find the Observatory and Roberts said he had memories from a past life where he remembered this place.
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Roberts then said that the path ahead was dangerous. The Natives of this land will put up a fight and asked if I would be willing to fight back. The objectives for this one was to not kill anyone, I had to incapacitate the guardians while unarmed. So the first thing I did was unequipped my swords so I was barehanded, I was determined to get it.
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Right at the entrance there were a lot of bodies of previous trespassers hanging from the trees. I guess it was as a deterrent on going forward. Wow.
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Moving on, there were several “zones” where I had to knock out the guardians and they were hiding in the bushes, so I had to be careful and use my Eagle Eye ability to see them. I moved slowly through the foliage to find them and used the sleep darts when I couldn’t move to the next hidden spot.
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I eventually made it out of the jungle and to where the ocean ran into an outlet. This was where the map was indicating. It was here at Long Bay, coordinates 525, 253. 
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The huts were to the left of where I had come out and it was right near the three palm trees. I got some money when I found it. I also found out that there was one more buried treasure I needed to get, but first I need to find the map.
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I first synced with the Viewpoint, ignoring the hanging bodies from the rafters. 
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I then moved on into a cave area. I didn’t get any pictures, but there were more guardians that I had to take out. And there were a lot more wandering around. I used a lot of sleep darts to take them out before going after them to knock them out.
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I eventually made it to the end and there it was, the Observatory. It was a big black structure that looked so out of place and...kind of futuristic. 
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I had to take out more guardians in this area and once I did, Roberts and his crew who were carrying the chest of blood vials got closer. Roberts said that to get inside, it just needed a drop of his blood.
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Before moving to follow, I got the chests in the area and the very last Mayan Stone.
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Once I had collected everything, I went up to the door which Roberts opened, the first time in almost 8 thousand years. Then Roberts took out his gun and killed his crew. Kenway pulled his own gun out and asked if he had gone mad. Roberts said that if they had gone inside, they would have gone mad seeing what was inside. Kenway however, was made of stronger stuff and should be alright. Okay....I guess that makes sense, but I had a bad feeling about this. Why not tell them to stay outside?
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Roberts told Kenway to pick up the chest and to follow. So I did and followed him inside the observatory. It was all smooth walls, but crumbling and broken flooring. Roberts said it had been 80 Millenia since he had been here, although it really was the first time. Kenway couldn’t believe it, it was impossible.
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We continued on and Roberts said he was really getting used to his new occupation as a Pirate Captain, he even came up with his own Creed. He said that there was no gambling to keep the peace, no desertion during battle and that everyone keep their guns and swords in tip top shape. Kenway thought they were reasonable until Roberts said that the punishment was death. That was excessive.
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Kenway looked around and said that this place was like something out of a Fairy Tale or an old poem. Roberts agreed and said that there was stories about this place once and they eventually turned into rumors and then legends. Which in time faded away entirely.
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Almost to the end, Kenway commented on the blood vials that where on the floor and Roberts said that they contain blood of an old race that were once great. But it couldn’t be used, maybe one day but not now.
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We finally made it to the dais at the end of the steps where there was a flat circle pendent thing with a skull in the center. Kenway put down the chest and the ground started to shake. It turned out to be a security measure and Roberts turned it off by touching the skull.
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Kenway asked what the thing was and Roberts said that it was like a spyglass that showed them great distances. He then put a blood vial into the eye of the skull and the structure started spinning. Kenway thought it was witchcraft.
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It was the blood of Rackham and it started showing an image on the wall of Rackham’s view in that moment. He was watching the barmaid and Kidd talking about the bar maid going out to see and Kidd was telling her that she could do it, there were women out there that were Captain’s of their own ships.
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The barmaid asked if he would teach her how to wield a sword and pistol. Kidd responded all that and more. She would have to work for it to make it. Rackham then spoke up saying to stop talking to his woman or he’ll cut him. He even called Kidd “Lad” and he said that Lad was the last thing he should call him. Which was true because Kidd was actually a woman.
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Roberts then took out that vial and instead put in Roger’s blood and showed him talking to Torres. They were talking about how they were going to get the blood from the House of Commons. It had to be treated like a ceremony or they will fight against it.
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Rogers continued saying that some of the Ministers will cause trouble but it should be easy to convince the rest. Torres said that they needed the blood sample so that they would be ready when they find the Observatory.
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Roberts removed the skull from the device as Kenway said that this was sorcery. Roberts said that the device was very real, it was really old, but not supernatural or strange. 
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Kenway said that they would be Masters of the Ocean with that and Roberts shoved him over the edge of the platform and into the water!!
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Roberts said that there was nothing in his Code about Loyalty and that he had played his role in getting him here, but now their partnership was done. Kenway said he was a deadman, but Roberts just said he wasn’t getting out of here and he left leaving Kenway locked inside the Observatory.
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I then had to find a way out by climbing the walls. I found an Animus fragment up there and it was the very last one. Nice. I eventually made it all the way up and found an opening that lead outside.
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I jumped out and slid down an embankment a really long way and Kenway got injured. When I stopped, Kenway pulled out a sharp object and it started bleeding really bad. My health went all the way down and when I moved, blood would squirt out. My objection was to just survive. I tried looking for my ship but it wasn’t there. So I only had one option, to walk up to the beach where Roberts was and the rest of his crew.
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I got close and Kenway shouted out to Roberts in anger. Roberts came over and said that the Jackdaw had left him behind. He could let him sail with him, but with Kenway’s temper, it would likely burn them.
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But there was a Bounty on Kenway’s  head so he intends to collect. So he was going to turn Kenway in. He asked if he had been in a Jamaican Prison and Kenway passes out.
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That was the end of the scene and the mission was now complete. (S10/M3 - Mission: The Observatory - Complete) Wow this was intense. I hope Kenway will be okay.
Interlude 4
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The next scene was my main character waking up after coming out of the animus. But I wasn’t at my desk, I was in a locked room. Melanie showed up on the screen and she apologized for my being drugged and locked up, but with the security breaches, they had to take action.
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She then said that Olivier was missing. He left for Chicago days ago and no one has seen him...I think Rebecca and Shaun’s people (if they have people) took him.
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Melanie then said that she knows it was excessive, but with their high level security they had an obligation to their shareholders. She told me that I would be compensated when the hacker is found and to just get some rest.
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Once she disappeared off the screen, the tech guy, John (I had to look up his name because I couldn’t remember) voice came from my tablet. He kind of laughed that I got tossed in here and said that the Templars weren’t taking any chances. Jerk.
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He then said that we needed to erase all the dirt they might have on me, and he gave me a level 3 clearance. So I could get out of this bunker they put me in. He wanted me to go to the security room and use the cameras to watch the door to the server farm. But that was going to have to wait.
It was late and I had a lot to unpack. One, Kenway was now captured, his crew abandoned him, he has no one to help him out. And my main character was locked up and could be caught for hacking all the computers. I’ll have to see how I get out of both situations next time as I had to go to bed. I stayed up way too late and I had work in the morning. It sucks being an adult...Anyway. Until next time. Happy Gaming!
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sab3rto0thed · 2 years
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on earth we are briefly beautiful;
i. my best friend’s smile. she never opens up until she looks at the stars, on my roof, when it is just the two of us and the warm night air of summer. when her car is in my driveway, and we can’t really see anything except a streetlight, because i live in town. but it’s small, so i can still point out the milky way, because my parents pasted it in stars on my bedroom ceiling when i was three and i didn’t get rid of them until i was ten. later, i play cruel summer in her car, because summer has always been cruel to me until she was kind. later, she hugs me twice because she adores me. later, she comes over to my house just to see me. later, later, later, we will end just as fast as we began. but on earth we are briefly beautiful, and i will always remember the shape of her smile.
ii. my other best friend’s smile. i don’t think i will ever hug him, or touch him, or even breathe the same air as him. i have only seen his smile once, on a grainy video call, but i still remember the imprint of his dimples like it was yesterday. we haven’t talked in months. the thought of him makes my own dimples dip. one time, his ex-boyfriend asked if i would kiss him. one time, i didn’t know how to explain to his ex-boyfriend that it would not be enough to kiss him, because how do you kiss the only boy that brings up the sun in the morning? on earth we are briefly beautiful, and i still remember his foolish smile.
iii. the way he looks at me. by he, i mean a boy i was in love with. i mean a boy that i cut my heart out for. i really did cut it out. i put it on a platter and forgot his address for mailing delivery, so i kept it with me and shed tears over it in the rain. i finally stuffed my heart back in my chest when i decided he couldn’t love me. but here he is, at the table in my backyard, his eyes never straying from me, but here he is, in my living room playing video games, his eyes locked on me as long as my mouth moves. but here he is, surrounded by blinding carnival lights and the far-off stars, and his arms are tangled with mine, and i can feel him. here he is three years ago, when i wanted to protect him and he wanted to protect me but we did not know how to protect ourselves. here he is now, his eyes softening with such adoration when they land on me that i don’t know what to do with his gaze.
iv. the way she sings. i promised i wasn’t going to write about her anymore. i bid her goodbye, but i think i am a bit of a liar. who am i to forever be truthful, anyway? i am a thieving, lying little girl. a year or two ago, i had a knife in my throat. she didn’t really see the knife. she just saw the cut, and how it gaped, and how it kept opening the more i spoke to her. and when i finally brought the knife out, she wrapped me in her arms in the cold of winter and offered me a brownie bar, because it was all she had. there was no snow on the ground. there was just the distant sunset, and my shivering arms, and everything i had in the way she held me for five seconds. i can’t eat brownie bars without thinking of her now. i can’t listen to the music she gave me without feeling vaguely sick. but i remember, i remember, i remember, and when i see her at the grocery store, she is still so pretty, and she still has that dance in her step. i think when we are all gone, i think she will have been something more than just this frail mortality. girls like her always are. they are the ones you write about, with their graceful eyes and their guitar-scarred fingers.
v. the wedding band on my english teacher’s hand. i try not to love many men, especially not after my dad’s brain became frail and he stopped recognizing me so easily. especially after he forgot that i grew past twelve, that i smoke weed and kiss boys and cry, and cry, and cry. but my teacher’s wife is so delightfully pretty, and kind as she is graceful. she is hunched over her desk at ten till eight in the morning, a pen in her hand, her hair framing her face. and he will joke about her, but the way he looks at her melts my hands. i see them in everything, in the way i write, in the songs i listen to, in the way i love. i always imagined seeing them again in a grocery store, or a library, or somewhere that english teachers hangout, but when i walked into the coffee shop that his wife worked at and she hugged as soon as she saw me, i knew that nothing i could dream up could ever compare to the way they smile at me. they never raised their voices at me no matter how reckless i was, and they never, ever, ever gave up on a drowning girl. i am not sure who will remember them when they are gone, but i certainly will. i certainly, certainly will.
on earth we are briefly beautiful. on earth we are briefly beautiful. on earth we are briefly beautiful. i don’t miss you anymore, not when i have all of this around me, grabbing me by the throat and painting my skin awash in sunset colors. this isn’t a letter, or a mourning, or a headstone. it’s the words in my fingers. it’s the tongue in my mouth. it’s the beaming smile in my throat. i love you. thank you for loving me.
0 notes
austinpanda · 2 years
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Dad Letter 052222
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22 May 2022
Dear Dad--
I never sent last week’s email, on account of never having finished it. Upon review, however, I did get a good two-thirds into it, so I might as well provide it here, as well as some new content, and attempt to assuage the anguish of your bereavement over having no letter last week by providing an extra-long, extra-juicy one this week. Enjoy. 
I’ll begin by posting what I wrote last Sunday. Here you go:
Yesterday was hot! It was bullshit. It was over 90 degrees outside, and we saw it coming in the weather forecast, so Zach made sure both our air conditioners were installed. We had one portable unit, which is the white thing that I covered with butterfly and flower stickers last year, and a new small-ish window unit that Zach’s parents got us, because when it’s 90 degrees outside, it helps having two zones of comfort in the house, instead of just one. It’s 100% more comfort zones. It’s for the bedroom! It works wonderfully.
Since I got paid, I blew $17 on a pair of hummingbird feeders from Amazon. By the time I realized they were out for delivery, a day earlier than expected, and thought to check outside, they were already here. I whipped up a pitcher of hummer chow and filled the feeders, after first rinsing them thoroughly. I deployed them outside, and waited for a hummingbird to show. And I waited. Checked a few times, after once or twice forgetting that they’re out there when walking by the front door, through which they are visible. Then Zach comes out of the back and I tell him to come look, and he sees the feeders. And RIGHT THEN a ruby throated hummingbird flew up and stopped to feed for a bit. Those things are just so ridiculously pretty and wee! Now it’s raining outside, but I’m still checking every time I walk past the front door, because hummers don’t stop flying around and feeding and doing shit because of the rain, and there are few things cuter than a soggy hummingbird. 
Thanks to my new schedule, my days off are now Sunday and Monday, so…today and tomorrow. Now Sunday is my Saturday, and Monday is my Sunday. Since Monday is now the second day of my weekend, Monday is going to feel weird as shit. Sunday already feels weird as shit. But tomorrow I’ll be home for most of the day by myself, while Zach takes the car to HVAC school and learns about how to make hundos. All the chores will be done by then; not sure what I’m going to do. It’s a small town. Perhaps I’ll walk to the movie theater and see if they’re showing any Viking revenge epics. (They are.) I predict, however, that I’ll stay in, and watch “The UFO Incident” again on YouTube. Mama always said, “That boy’s going to grow up with an unhealthy fixation on Estelle Parsons.” She plays Betty Hill in the movie. Later, historically speaking, she plays Roseanne’s mom. Her voice is distinctive. 
In order to make this letter long enough, I guess it's time I acknowledge a huge secret that I've kept from everyone for years now: I occasionally smoke reefer. I know this comes out of nowhere, but it's true. And it happens that about two and a half years ago, we accidentally slipped and fell into a state where, as long as you don't grow warehouses full right next to the schoolyard, it is legal to buy and consume it. (Growing booze and guns next to schools presumably still A-OK.) Maine only recently (like in the last year) figured out how to get recreational weed shops up and running, and they’re still overpriced. Once we’d settled here, it became apparent that a medical card was the way to go. It would (a) grant me access to medical dispensaries, and (2) that’s cheaper, and © there’s one a stone’s throw from the trailer, and (iv) I might qualify, just by telling them a bunch of TRUE shit!!
So I arranged for a card online, then had a video chat on my phone with a nurse practitioner who asked me about the problems I hoped to address with it. Got the depression! She asks, doing anything about it, like therapy? I’m all, no, take antidepressants. She’s like, what else? I’m like, got the insomnia. She’s like, take anything for that? I’m like, one of the antidepressants happens to help with that, just not as much as I’d like. And she’s like, what else? And I’m like, how about pain? I’m in pain almost every day from my ankles. I think it’s collapsed arches combined with a left ankle that’s overpronating painfully, and a right ankle that’s overpronating really really painfully. She’s like, okay, card for you. 
Turns out that needn’t have been stressful at all for me, because the part about whether I’d receive the card was decided, essentially, the moment I decided I deserved one for medical reasons. Originally, the law that allowed medical marijuana in Maine was more strict, but by the time we got here, a medical marijuana card could be issued for any reason a nurse practitioner would agree to. It could be anything. As long as you derived medical benefit, and didn’t say something like, “I want to get high till my face floats off. You know, by the schoolyard," then that’ll be $40 please, and the card’s in the mail. I went through two years that way, renewing after the first year. Now here’s where it gets…numerical. 
If you want to buy a large amount, that’s enough to last a while, but a small enough amount to be legal and affordable, you can get, say, one ounce. That's like getting 12-pack instead of a single can of soda. At our local recreational dispensary, called FIRESTORM, an ounce can cost up to (I just checked) $360. 
…Okay, that’s all I wrote from last week. I obviously had more story to tell there, but my weekend ended, I was thrown headlong into a busy work week, and it languished until now. To get to the happy conclusion of the ganja epic I was dispensing, the cheapest I ever found ounces of mary jane was for $80. I found a place called Acadia Cannabis that had ounces on sale every week. When I decided I needed to get a new medical marijuana card, I knew that Acadia could provide one at a different location from the one where I’d gone in the past. I went to the different Acadia location. I made sure to go on a Monday, Wednesday, or Friday between 10 am and 4 pm. I filled out the card application. I went into the practitioner’s little office, with her periodic table of marijuana strains poster, and her salt lamp, and her radio playing Midnight at the Oasis, and we chit-chatted. Since I was getting the card in person, I was not given a temporary one, I was given a permanent card, right then and there. 
Then, as I was at the counter waiting to speak with someone about purchasing some completely legal and morally-upbeat drugs, thinking, “Ermahgerd, this experience has been five-star so far, I’m loving it here. I just really, really need them to have inexpensive ounces. This is another bill to pay, like groceries or the electricity bill, and it’s in my interest to keep the cost down wherever I can.” So I look over, and I see a sign they have sitting on a nearby countertop, and it says “EVERY FRIDAY IS FLOWER FRIDAY! …OUNCES FOR $80!” (I was there on a Friday.) 
Needless to say, while remaining outwardly stoic, inwardly I was doing the Snoopy happy dance. I got my ounce, a strain with a dry, innocuous, and clinical sounding kind of name, like (I will check)...Strawberry Bubba Diesel (good lord) and it seems to work. My ankles are thanking me for it as we speak. 
Since another week has gone by, I should have another week’s worth of entertaining social commentary and witty bullshit, but I’m not sure that I do. I did my audit work, five times, and returned home five times. I think the state government is going to send us a bonus state tax refund this year because of surpluses--which is a thing that can happen in a non-red state where the taxes are sufficient to pay the bills and there’s an occasional surplus, which the state government, not being dominated by conservative buttholes, returns to the state population as an additional tax refund to those who paid their state taxes, to circulate it back into the state economy and allow everyone to buy themselves a steak dinner once or twice a damn year--sorry, lost my train of thought there. We should get a few extra hundos back from the state gubmint in a few weeks. Our plan is for me to get (no shit) a chicken fried steak at the Texas Roadhouse, and Zach wants to get himself a steak. The rest of the refund money will be thrown into the volcano of bills, where it will quickly evaporate, to no effect at all. But I haven’t had a chicken fried steak since I left Texas, and this is the only place that sells them here, and they’re called “country fried steak” here, because reasons.
I think that’s enough letter for now! If it were Dune, I would spit on your table and leave, and you’d like it, because I gave you the gift of my body’s moisture. So there.
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mwagneto · 3 years
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not father figure 3 (who's like a full on villager) asking me if i feel like a boy a girl or something inbetween......sir this is a conversation id love to have with you (tho i never thought i would??) but NOT in the middle of the day while im standing next to your sun bed sweating my ass off in my dysphoria hoodie in 33°c and holding a live snake
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nctsworld · 3 years
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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! 
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⇾ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!
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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?  
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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.
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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.
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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.”  
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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.
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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.”
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“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.
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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.  
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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.  
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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.”
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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.
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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.”
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