#[[AUG WHAT'S THE WORD COUNT WHY DO YOU WRITE SO MUCH]]

[mins-fins]

ANGEL EYES. — [L.MH] [PT. 1]

❝ sometimes, it feels as if mark lee is your guardian angel ❞

SYNOPSIS: innocent cherub eyes, gently soft hands, a heart of gold, mark lee is the golden boy whose experienced as much love as he gives back. his grades are high, his smile is wide, and his laughter is sweet. the only reason mark lee gets embroiled in a world of trouble is because of his pairing with the 'messed up foster kid' in a school project. it would be stupid to ever let himself get involved, but mark does anyway.

PAIRING: mark lee x male!reader

GENRE: mid–2000s au, high school au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humor(?), slow burn, one sided pining to mutual pining, sadness as a romantic segway, relationship study, reader is a foster kid, mark pov, happy ending.. (i suppose)

WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, violence, drug abuse, child abuse & neglect, family issues, mentions of death, smoking, homophobia, reader simply has the worst time and mark sobs about his circumstances, an awful amount of love that isn't realized to be love

WORD COUNT: 20.8k

NOTES: hey, hi, hello, its me isa mins-fins back with another BANGER 😍‼️ make sure to hit that subscribe button for more epic fanfiction 😋💥 okay but seriously, i've been writing this for almost TWO MONTHS (began in aug, first part wrapped up in nov) and its been a journey holy shit 😭😭 i dont remember why i randomly started this draft but i did and now its become this monstrosity, almost 21k words and were only halfway there, sorry, there's unfortunately more suffering awaiting, but dont worry, happy ending!! of course, user junjiie, i love you 💗, thank you for again listening to my unhinged rants about this thing and consuming all of the spoilers, you deserve love, and an endless supply of mark photocards 😊😊 as for everybody else who reads my stuff, thank you for sticking around despite the fact that i disappeared for about three weeks, please enjoy this mess 🤗

PREVIEW | NEXT

BEFORE IT WAS IN THE CRISP AUTUMN ATMOSPHERE, mark lee had met you at the local police station. it was only a few months prior, august of 2004 brought the prospect of donghyuck doing everything to try and get arrested, prospects that mark could only respond with under the breath swears. he loves donghyuck, he really does, but driving shouldn't have been his first choice. in all of the friendships mark has had with other people in his life, donghyuck has always brought a wave of chaos along with him, the exact opposite of who mark's mom would advise him to stay away from, but she'd always had a soft spot for him, mark can't exactly blame her.

fresh off turning seventeen and utterly clueless as to what the future would bring, mark only found himself at the police station for one reason. donghyuck had driven without a license. yep, sixteen years old and he assumed doing an illegal u-turn was the way to end his summer.

mark has always been a stand up kid. the kind who handed out his mom's cookies to the neighbors. the kind who called for stray cats in alleyways. the kind who was simply an innocent bystander to all the bullshit his friends would pull.

so when donghyuck called him from a jail phone, voice heightened in indignation as he begged for mark to come make a case for him, the older really had no choice but to do so. mark had never been to a police station before, afraid of catching sight of real criminals in the flesh by just walking past the building. he had watched too many scary stories, had terrible ideas of human beings planted in his head.

and even as a seventeen year old who had experienced life enough that such things shouldn't have terrified him anymore, there was still a small pit in his stomach as he rounded the corner in direction of the building.

"and how exactly am i supposed to bail you out?" an eyebrow raise accompanied mark's inquiry, and donghyuck scoffed as he shook his cuffed hands.

"you don't have to bail me out, my dad knows the sheriff, i'm just getting off with a warning" he whispered, sweat on his brow as he shared that familiar 'no shit' look with mark (an ironic expression really, he's the only one between the two of them that's been in cuffs).

mark snickered. "you talk so much when you're the one handcuffed".

"watch your mouth, you need me".

just as donghyuck was about to let out a swear in addition to his snappy response, said sheriff walked into the room, tight lipped smile painting his face. "don't try that again donghyuck, or next time you'll end up in a cell".

in a instant, donghyuck's blood ran cold, mark almost laughed at the sight, but he remained still, watching. the older man glanced up, catching mark's anxiety ridden eyes. "and you are?"

"this is mark, my best friend" donghyuck was quick to quip, a hand placed onto his shoulder.

mark's stomach dropped to his feet, it isn't as if he did anything wrong, it was simply on par for him to be severely anxious around law enforcement in general, he was just afraid he'd somehow get arrested for nothing at all.

"ohhh i remember you, i used to assume you two were brothers".

mark let out a breathy (and clearly faked) chuckle, trying to bury his anxiety. he could never explain it, even if you gave him all the words to, it's not like he's a bad kid, he just finds himself tensing often. "no, just friends.."

"it's good to have someone so close as support" he narrowed his eyes at donghyuck, who stifled his scoff at the clear sarcasm lacing his tone. he then scrunched his nose, watching as donghyuck placed a performative smile on his lips. "now you, sir, we need to have a talk".

donghyuck frowned, whining out complaints as he's dragged away by the sheriff. "can you wait, mark?"

mark blinked, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. he nodded, out of words. the two bantered back and forth like friends, something mark could only stare idly at. he made his way over to the seats beside the door, where, nestled in the corner of one of them, was you.

you were scribbling something into your notebook, unaware of the eyes on you. mark sat two chairs away from you, tapping his feet onto the floor as he heard the faint sounds of scoldings. safe driving, don't get into a car without a license, your future won't be any better if you continue this shit.

swearing at a child, mark found that rich. he glances beside him again, now watching you intently. you were engrossed in the manner your pen scratched against your paper, mark had figured out through endless staring that you hadn't been writing, but drawing.

you avoided his eyes for a while, ignorant to the eyes gazing you up and down. you then glanced in mark's direction, almost startling him out of his seat with the sudden stare. you blinked, puzzled out of your mind. "is there something on my face?"

mark tensed in his seat, feeling his stomach swirl, was he staring so much that you felt offended? he felt guilty immediately, his lips parting immediately and releasing a silent breath. "no.. no i'm sorry, i didn't mean to".

you shrugged your shoulders, one click to your pen. mark recognized you, but he simply couldn't conjure up an explanation as to why you were sitting in a police station at this time, drawing whatever into your notebook. "so why are you staring then?"

"i'm trying to figure out why you're here" mark muttered, fingers fiddling with his necklace as he tried to get his tone straight in fear of again offending you. "i'm sure you aren't committing crimes".

"i can say the same for you, mr golden boy".

mark's lips turned up slightly, his hands twitching from where they rested on his lips. "i got kicked out.. always come here to let dad and mom cool off for a few hours".

the words earned an eyebrow raise from mark, that was strange to hear, especially from another person in regards to their own parents. mark had never really experienced such a thing, the way you described it made his nose scrunch. "what?"

before you could respond to that one, a police officer entered the room, one you seemed to recognize by the way your eyes lit up. "come on l/n, time to go".

a frown settled onto your lips. "do i really have to go now? you know how my parents are.."

"i can't keep you here, it would technically be illegal".

"it's not like they'll care anyway.." you mumbled, slamming your notebook shut with yet another click to your pen. "just an hour longer, please?"

there was a sense of hope in your eyes, maybe he would actually take your words into account. mark simply stared, staggered by what he was witnessing. the officer watched the change of your expressions, your thumb playing at the button on your pen, continuously clicking over and over. as the clicks amplified, so did the sound of your labored breathing.

"you know i can't do that kid".

your frown deepened, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. worry, that's what mark remembered. your eyes widened, but not in the usual shock, simply in disappointment. you cursed under your breath, muttering something about your parents getting pissed at your reappearance. you stopped clicking your pen, letting the chagrin settle onto you. "yeah.."

you sucked your teeth, imitating the look of a sulky child. mark was consumed by his silence, completely confused by the situation. he didn't give a comment, simply watched the whole entire thing happen. "i'll give you a few minutes, don't worry".

you didn't respond to that one, your eyes following the police officer who strolled out the door towards his car. you bit into your lip again, hands grasping onto your notebook and thumb still pressing onto your pen. "what bullshit".

mark continued staring, his hands clutching at his thighs. you then glanced at him once more, causing for him to flinch back. you stayed silent, watching him as much as he did you a few minutes prior.

"are you alright?" he muttered, leaving his voice at a low volume. he didn't want to raise it, he wanted to keep it at a volume that kept you comfortable.

you snickered, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "fine, going home is just my worst nightmare".

mark's fingers found themselves sliding across his legs, teeth sliding against each other in back and forth motions. he blinked his big brown eyes, staring with an assured gaze he hoped would somehow make it's way to you. "i'm sorry".

he whispered those two words as if he was in physical pain, eyes watering for an inexplainable moment. he couldn't help it, and he had no idea why he couldn't help it. it was embarrassing how much he felt at the moment.

you stared back, lips pursuing. your expressions did at least seventy transformations, as if you were in disbelief at someone having empathy for you. you seemed distraught, why is he tearing up? that's so strange.

you chuckled, hoping it would quell his worries. "it's okay, not like it's your fault".

"still, you shouldn't have to feel that way about going home.. your parents shouldn't be kicking you out".

you grimaced, put off by the words. it isn't as if they were terrible, you just seemed.. astonished. why did he care? it was simply weird to you.

"well thank you for your concern but i'll be fine".

mark blinked away the tears threatening to escape his eyes, god what was wrong with him? why did he even tear up at that? he totally weirded you out.

"yeah um.. i'm sorry" mark bit into his inner cheek, letting out a heavy sigh. "just have a good day" a theatric smile placed itself on his lips, he was definitely trying to convince himself that it wasn't that bad of a situation.

you stared longer, seemingly itching to say something. there were words resting on the tip of your tongue, mark could practically sense it. "yeah, you too".

and when you stood up to walk out of the door, donghyuck coincidentally escaped the clutches of the sheriff, stumbling out of his office with his arms crossed over his chest. the door closed behind you, and mark watched the entire time.

"what took you so long?" mark uttered, eyes casting donghyuck's way.

the younger huffed in his usual donghyuck manner, hands on his hips. "he was giving me a big talk about safe driving" he placed heavy air quotes around the last two words, lips curled into a frown.

mark licked his teeth, his thoughts retracing back to you. "do you know him..?"

donghyuck blinked, his mouth opening to ask about who until he saw the way mark motioned his head. "y/n? oh yeah, he's around here all the time, the officers basically take him in whenever.."

"why?"

his voice scratched like sandpaper, donghyuck wincing at the tone. he then shrugged his shoulders, his attitude puzzled. "something about his parents not really caring, it's pretty shitty".

mark's lips parted in a freezing motion, his stomach pain only worsening. "that's scary.. feeling safer at the police station than your own home".

"i don't know much about his situation, just know his parents have a terrible temper".

mark swallowed the lump in his throat, his head beginning to pound at the information given. he tried to distract himself by thinking about school coming up soon, but he was snapped back into reality by donghyuck.

"why are you even asking me about y/n?"

mark glanced up at his childhood friend, a small whisper in his mind telling him to lie. "just curious that's all".

the lie laid bitter on his tongue, but he didn't allow for donghyuck to dwell on it, rising from the chair he practically glued himself to. "promise me you'll never illegally drive again, the officers here look like they wanna kill me".

donghyuck rolled his eyes, tease evident in his attitude. "okay markie, promise".

mark pushed his shoulder in retaliation.

that? that was two months ago.

before the crisp autumn weather drifted through the atmosphere, before the leaves began falling to decorate the ground in orange and brown hues, mark lee had met you at the local police station. your legs crossed, pen clicking, and nose buried into your notebook.

september came and went rather quickly, the scorching heat of the summer air transforming into the russet autumn scenery which drifts into october. the temperature steadily dropping, sweaters becoming more and more common in his closet, mark can't exactly focus in class during the first few months of school.

when mark hears his name fall from his teacher's lips in pair with yours, he snaps out of an episode of disassociation, blinking up. "what?"

his teacher deadpanned, readjusting her glasses. she doesn't even seem surprised by his lack of focus anymore, his exhaustion is constantly evident. "project partners mark, you'll be paired with y/n".

mark only parts his lips in response, the words rendering him speechless. he glances around the classroom as he listens to the older woman's voice blurs into the background, catching sight of you in the far back, again scribbling into your notebook, your manner reminiscent of how you acted the first time you two met.

he stares for a while before again looking forward, his mouth going dry as he tries again to focus, but of course, he can't. his mind stays focused on you throughout the whole class, even after the endless words he lets blur away.

you spin your pen between your fingers, it's the same pen you had that day, maybe you have some sort of attachment to it or something, maybe it's your favorite pen, maybe someone special gifted that pen to you.

maybe mark's letting it all get to his head, why is he even making assumptions when he hasn't walked up to you yet?

while everyone else rushes to leave the class, mark rises from his seat and again glances over at you, slinging his back over his shoulder.

you're riveted by what you're doing in your notebook, so absorbed that you barely hear the shuffling footsteps making their way around the many desks towards yours. your lips turn down as you smudge the ink on the page, a small suck of the teeth adding to your frustration.

"um.. hi" mark whispers, watching as you glance up and pause, one click to your pen. you don't respond immediately, studying mark for a while, and mark tenses up under your gaze, sucking a breath between his teeth.

"hi".

"we uh— were partners for the project".

your smile is neutral. "i know".

mark began biting the skin off his lips, hands gripping at his backpack. "i don't know where you want to start, uh.. maybe we could go to the library?"

he's just saying what he's hoping will work. he doesn't exactly know you yet, he assumes your one off interaction at the police station left a sour taste in your mouth.

but unbeknownst to mark's anxious inner voice, you smile, not exactly a neutral one this time, a much better smile ('better' in terms of expression, your lips stretch into an aspect of satisfaction).

"that'd be nice".

mark nods, almost too enthusiastically he thinks. how embarrassing. you let out a silent yawn, oblivious to the battle mark is having in his head. "tomorrow maybe we can start?"

your smile again becomes neutral, but at least mark doesn't think you want to kill him. "yeah, tomorrow is fine".

tomorrow. tomorrow is fine.

"okay, have a good day y/n".

mark rushes out of the classroom much too fast, he feels a little terrified of you. maybe you don't exactly want to kill him, maybe you just look at everyone else in that way, maybe it won't be that bad to be paired with you.

still, mark isn't sure why his mind tells him he should stay away from you.

THE NEXT DAY GOES AS USUAL, DAD AND MOM bicker at the breakfast table, leave kisses on mark's forehead before letting him go off. the heightened smell of pine was all that met mark's nose, his senses freaking out as he stepped into the cool october air. it's still eight in the morning, it shouldn't be this cold. just a month ago the sun was attempting to burn off his skin with it's murderous rays, and now it's obscured behind gray clouds. hopefully it doesn't rain, he forgot to bring an umbrella, and mom would kill him if he turned up at home with his clothes drenched. he assumes that he's gotten pretty good at predicting the weather, and judging by the pattern the clouds form in the sky, it won't rain today.

history is his last class of the day, and mark immediately found out that history is the only class you two share. donghyuck runs his mouth in his ear all day, something about junior year really being the one where you lose your identity, mutterings about drinking and partying falling from his lips.

his chin leans against his hand as he complains about jaemin not giving him homework answers, and mark releases a small sigh, drawing a small snort from his best friend. "you getting bored of me now?" he's quick to ask, aggressively shoving his shoulder against mark's.

mark grunts, nose scrunching as he sees the elation donghyuck shows. "you've been talking forever, do you not get tired?"

"someone has to entertain you".

"i'm not entertained, i'm annoyed".

donghyuck huffs, an eye roll being his response to mark's insult. he never lets it get to his head, donghyuck has always been the least sensitive between the two of them. his lips curl up into yet another smile of glee, overjoyed by mark's irritation.

"it's the seniority getting to you, grandpa".

mark shares an incredulous with him, scoffing as he grabs his bag from where he let it sit beside him. giggles spill from donghyuck's lips, his face red at the sight of mark's furrowed eyebrows. "not even a year older than you.."

"you're still old!"

donghyuck sings out the words in the way of a melodic tune, whistling in the air. mark again mutters something about not being old, and donghyuck sticks out his tongue. "see you later oldie".

mark's face scrunches, but he bid donghyuck a goodbye anyway. he's been a constant in his life, getting called old by an annoying sixteen year old isn't exactly the kind of thing that puts stress on his life, he'll be fine, there's definitely worse the world could throw at him, and lee donghyuck just barely scratches the surface.

after lunch, he has history for a double period. he usually disassociates through the first forty five minutes, his teacher is a nice woman, yes, but she takes so long to get to the point. he's read through the topics time and time again, he's simply relearning them to get the last few credits he needs to graduate.

he'll be done by the time the second semester rolls around, so that isn't much of a worry.

when he slides into his seat, he wants to crane his head back to look for you, but just as his head connects the dots, attendance begins, and he hears you mutter a small 'here' when the teacher calls your name.

"mark lee?"

he glances up, straightening his posture. "here" he replies, licking his lips.

the dragging of your pen against the paper of your notebook stops, mark knows it's yours because he listened to the same sound yesterday up close when he asked you about the library.

the first forty five minutes of class fly by, mark manages to keep himself from falling asleep while his teacher goes on about something he'd already learned about years prior.

then, she stops, the shuffling of desks are heard in the room, and his teacher sighs as she places her hands against her desk. "as i said yesterday, your project is about important historical events, you can use these next few minutes to brainstorm with your partners".

she then sighs with her hands clasped together. "no funny business" she scolds, her tone reminiscent of a mother angry at her children.

a click of the tongue sounds as mutters begin getting louder, mark's chest tightens as he glances around the room, watching everyone else get up to discussing with their partners.

of course, he has to go to you.

he stands from his place and drags a chair over to you, eyes squeezing shut at the sound it emanates. "sorry".

you instantly squint, a scrunch of your nose adding to your expression. "did you just apologize for.. nothing?"

mark swallows, his lips pursuing. he doesn't have a response for that, apologies falling from his lips are programmed into his speech. the way you asked makes him feel as if something is wrong with his manner of speaking, he isn't sure why he thinks about it in that way though.

"i don't know i.." his words drift off into nothing, there isn't a response to that one, because mark has no idea why he says what he does. "i'm sorry".

you respond with a chuckle, and mark's eyes miraculously widen. he just did it again, and it felt completely normal. one click to your pen. your lips stretch into yet another neutral smile, the prospect amusing you. "alright, what should our topic be?"

mark pauses, scratching his nails against the wooden table. his eyes drifts over to your notebook, and you close it upon catching his gaze. his lips press into a thin line, a breath in his teeth. "maybe the industrial revolution..?"

it's simply the first thing he could say at the moment, he wasn't exactly thinking. you blink, using a hum as your reply this time. you map out the several features on mark's face, his big brown eyes shine with anticipation, and it gets difficult to hide your smile.

"unless you wanna do something else" mark is quick to add, his words a small whisper. "i want to hear your suggestions".

he observes the act of your expressions changing, your eyebrows pinching together in a questioning manner. you don't seem to mind, he gathers. "it's alright, i would've said the bubonic plague or something but that's been dried up countless times i assume".

mark breaks into a small smile, relaxing against the chair. "okay, the industrial revolution it is" he whispers, hands clasped together. "do you still want to go to the library today or..?"

"i can't make it today".

your voice lowers exponentially, eyes casting to the side. mark gazes, as if attempting to read your inner most thoughts. you don't exactly make them clear, that's puzzling, mark almost wants to ask what the deal is, but he assumes you'd probably cuss him out if he did.

he presents his warmest smile to you. "it's okay, i can find sources for today, we can begin searching together tomorrow".

you don't nod, simply stare back. mark blinks, avoiding your eyes as he glances around the room. "i don't really want to put that all on you, i can still gather sources i just can't stay after school.."

mark is the one who nods, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. "that's fine, you think you can stay tomorrow though?"

god mark feels like such an asshole asking that, he tries to keep his eyes everywhere but directly in front of him, because he's afraid of getting decked in the face.

but instead, you chuckle. "yeah tomorrow is fine, sorry for being so.. inconsistent".

mark then shakes his head, hoping the movements would reassure you in some way. "it's alright, thank you for telling me".

your lips stay pressed together, another small hum vibrating from you. you again run out of responses, so mark speaks up. "let's work well together, yeah?"

is that really the correct choice of words? think about it mark.

mark already thinks too much, if he thinks more, he might begin feeling tears stream down his cheeks. he doesn't want to seem.. jumpy, even if there are voices screaming at him with their pitches so high blood might start pouring out of his ears.

and finally, you nod, which gets a small smile out of mark.

MARK READS ON AND ON ABOUT THE INDUSTRIAL revolution until the words burn into his brain, until the sun goes down and his mom is casting him strange looks every time she walks past his open door. around the fifth time she did a lap, she paused as she watched mark flip through the many books scattered around his bed. "what is going on here?" she inquires, and mark glances up as he's midway through reading about british imperialism, a small smile on his lips. "this is for my project" he whispers, clear fatigue in his voice. she narrows her eyes, puzzled by the manner he's acting in.

"it's almost ten o'clock, mark".

ten isn't that late, he would usually muse, but there's a pointed look she sends him that leaves the words resting on the tip of his tongue. "okay, i'll go to sleep now.." he mutters, licking his lips.

she smiles softly, tapping her finger against his door. "sleep for real, mark, don't read all night".

"i don't read all night" he argues to the air. he knows that isn't true, he can't argue about it to his mom. he crosses his arms over his chest, imitating the stubborn front donghyuck always puts up.

she utters something akin to a 'sure' and gives one last look to mark before walking down the hallway. mark only casts one last glance in the direction of his door, then he picks up the books he littered across his bed to shove into his backpack.

he isn't exactly sure why he couldn't stop thinking about your neutral smile. mark has only interacted with you three times in two months, yet there's something there that keeps him grounded, his mind warns him of something, but you can't be terrible, you seem practically harmless.

mark isn't new to knowing people with somewhat shitty parents, but he feels as if there's something more there. mark really can't judge from a one off interaction he wasn't even involved in besides watching, how can he concoct something like this about you in his head when you barely talk to him as it is? he can't just make shit up before actually sitting down to get to know you.

he stares out his open window, the night breeze comes in with a rush reminiscent of ocean waves. he switches off his lights and stares up at the ceiling, hair splayed behind him as he waits for the exhaustion to take over.

he's bad news mark.

but what does mark know? this could just be his anxiety's biggest manifestations, he's making shit up. he's guessing based on the few interactions you two have had, and if he thinks further, it seems that you don't exactly enjoy his presence.

mark doesn't get much sleep that night.

that isn't as crazy as it should be, mom asks about it at breakfast the next morning, catching the dark circles under his eyes. he manages to utter an excuse about sounds outside or something, it was barely believed, she squinted at him with pure incredulity in her eyes, but he quickly scarfed down the remaining waffles on his plate and rushed to school, weighed down by his backpack containing thick books.

donghyuck made an awful lot of remarks about him accidentally killing someone with his backpack. he had the urge to purposefully swing it around to hit the younger with his backpack, but he kept such thoughts to himself, he could get revenge on donghyuck another time. maybe he'll hit him in the head with a metal pan again, who knows?

the lack of sleep exhibits itself in mark's barely functioning body as a whole. seven separate times during the day he almost dozed off during class, his teachers gave him the benefit of the doubt, him practically snoring on his desk was nothing new, he gets a pass because he's the kid with good grades.

by the time last period rolls around, mark forgets everything else that happened today. two hours of sleep usually don't do him this bad, but considering he'd been constantly getting over seven hours of sleep this week, two basically rendered him dead.

his hand slammed onto his desk a few too many times, he jolted up a few too many times. his eyes narrowed as he yawned again, doing his regular glance around the classroom. he counts each of the heads he catches, noticing some missing, but only a certain missing one is alerting.

you aren't here.

mark's lips turn downward, a weathering frown now overtaking his former exhaustion. mrs. lim took attendance thirty minutes ago, how did he miss you not responding to the call of your name? he narrows his eyes at your empty desk, feeling a pit form in his stomach.

where is he? his lips pursue as he looks forward, now unable to care about his fatigue when he was now consumed with confusion on where the hell you were.

did you just decide to go m.i.a for absolutely no reason? god what an asshole move. do you even know how difficult it is to do a project on your own?

mark doesn't let the anger fester for long, though, because it then becomes worry. maybe something happened, you told him you'd be able to stay today, did you just lie to him?

okay, so maybe his anger does fester a little bit, but he can't stay angry at really anyone for long (not even donghyuck, annoying guy 101). his fingers press uncomfortably onto the straps of his backpack as he makes his way over to the library, maybe you won't show up, but he still has to finish this project anyway.

he drops the books down with a resounding thud, immediately getting to jotting down notes after apologizing to the librarian. his head simply leaned downward, threatening to fall and crash against the table at any moment. he isn't sure how he remains awake, but he manages to keep himself up enough that he's able to write at least two pages of notes.

he's about to begin drooling, an embarrassing feat really, but he can't contain his weariness.

and just as he's about to pass out—

"are you good?"

mark jolts up straight away, a gasp of surprise leaving his lips as he takes in the words. when he whips his head back, he immediately frowns, it's you. he sucks a breath between his teeth, shoulders relaxing. "yeah yeah i'm just tired i.."

mark would've spit out some snarky interjection when his eyes drifted downward. then, in their usual fashion, they widened, and a grimace made it's way to his face.

a barrage red and purple decorate your knuckles, the skin between your fingers threatening to open. he barely holds back his wince, it looks painful, so painful. why the fuck are your knuckles split?

"are you alright?"

you deliver a snort. "is that the question you're always going to ask me?"

"oh my god! you're— your hands jesus what the hell even happened!?"

mark grabs your hands to get a closer look, your rough skin clashing against his in a burning manner. you promptly draw your hands away, as if in a protective stance, as if.. weirded out by the whole ordeal. "nothing, it's fine".

"it's fine?" mark parrots, sharing an incredulous look with you he normally wouldn't share with anyone. "your knuckles are one snap away from bleeding!"

your face twitches, and you bring a finger to your lips. "don't yell in a library, it isn't that serious".

"it isn't—" mark cuts his own speech off, closing his eyes to try and keep himself calm. "what happened?"

you mutter something unintelligible at first, fingers picking at the sides of your hands. "i just made someone mad.."

"you just made someone mad?"

you shrug your shoulders, startlingly mundane about the whole thing. mark stares, an intake of fear entering him. your face is flat, the only expression mark could make out was slight irritation, but not at him.. at least he hopes.

"you weren't in class today" he whispers, now quickly changing the subject as you drag the chair beside him back, settling onto it.

"i skipped" you speed through your response, grinding any of the pain you feel in your knuckles between your teeth. "looked like shit, mrs. lim would've had a heart attack if i walked into her room".

"you didn't think to go to the nurse or something?"

you narrow your eyes, tongue probing at the side of your cheek. "you ask so many questions, that has to be your thing".

mark sucks his teeth. "..sorry for worrying?"

you blink, a neutral smile spreading across your lips. "you're a weird guy".

there it is. there the word is. weird. you think mark is weird. is mark weird? if mark is weird, then what does that make you? is it weird that he has empathy for others? is it weird that he holds empathy for you?

"are you insulting me?"

your head shakes back and forth, fingers prodding at the corners of your book. "not quite, i've just never met someone like you".

"well usually someone having split knuckles is cause for concern".

your face again drops, and the awkward chuckle mark hoped would quell such worries instead died down in his throat. he watches the way you gaze upward then downward, mapping each of mark's features with your tentative eyes. "it's not that big of a deal" you mumble, twiddling your thumbs as you quickly avert your gaze.

you avoid his eyes in the same way a child does when they fear upsetting their parents, your lips curl down into the exact appearance of disappointment.

mark's mouth is completely dry, he doesn't really know how to deal with.. this. he levels at you with a blank stare, attempting to see through you, maybe get into your thoughts and finally figure out why you don't find your knuckles being split being the huge problem it is.

"okay.. um, can you show me the sources you found then?"

mark is trying his best to not make it awkward, how do you not even release a wince at the pain you must be experiencing? you simply engross yourself in that pen and paper once again.

it's a bit difficult to make conversation when all he currently sees are the bruises decorating your hands. he grimaces as if you're some exhibit he isn't fond of, and from the flickers of your eyes he catches in his peripheral vision, you clearly take notice.

"you gonna stop looking at me like that?"

"sorry!" mark is quick to sputter, his blinks as rapid as his response. "i'm sorry it just.. doesn't that hurt?"

a breath falls from your lips, the beginnings of a laugh making it's way up into the air. "it's nothing i haven't felt before".

mark wants to ask again, but he keeps in such urges. again, he's still afraid you'll punch him in the face if he opens his mouth again. mark assumes he just doesn't get it, maybe how you feel is vastly different to how he feels. "can i at least walk you to the nurses office?"

another question, mark feels his stomach curl into something terrible, but instead of the blow up reaction he expects, you simply pause, blinking.

you press your teeth against each other, thinking it over with your eyes trailing the shelves of the library. one click to your pen, a small sigh falling from your lips. "fine.. i guess".

you guess, well that's a start. mark can make well with that.

you gather books as best as you can quickly, shoulders tensing. mark urges to grab your hand, maybe soothe it over with his thumb, but he suppresses such urges in fear of weirding you out (because you already deemed him a 'weirdo').

"you know.. if you ever need to tell someone something, i'm here".

it's a flimsy suggestion, a small uttering mark could only muster with the worry in his heart. you shot him a glance, the abrupt movement of your head almost startling mark backward. you stare, the expression on your face indecipherable, mark wishes he could reach into your mind, pull out your innermost thoughts and figure out exactly why you think the way you do.

your eyes stay narrowed for a moment, simply staring at mark, frozen in front of the nurse's office. you click your tongue, scratching at the start of your sweater. "sure".

sure, sure. it's not a no, that's good. it's not a yes, which isn't exactly assuring. it's a sure. sure. there's a start, it's a beginning.

you don't exactly sound sure, your eyes cast around your surroundings, and your lips sink into your bottom teeth. the anxiety permeating from you is reminiscent of mark's own.

well maybe you two aren't that different.

i'm here if you want to talk, mark repeats in his own head, and he begins biting the skin off his lips.

sure is your response.

it's a good enough response for a start.

THE TITLE OF 'FRIENDS' ISN'T YET ESTABLISHED between you two. you're still an enigma, a mystery, mark is still just the tiniest bit afraid you'll attempt to punch him in the face if he says something you don't agree with. you're an easy person to work with, in comparison to some of mark's other project partners. you two equally split up the workload, you don't mind taking up most of the work, you tell mark it's okay, even with bandages arranged around your bruised knuckles, you could jot down notes about the fucking industrial revolution all day. mark makes out that you don't necessarily enjoy talking, you communicate with your feeble expressions.

again, you two aren't established friends, and considering you only have one ninety minute class together in one whole school day, it would be a turbulent effort to even attempt a friendship.

you can be summed up as simply 'project buddies', there isn't anything more to it, but that's because mark has some fear instilled in him directed towards you. you don't glare, but it still appears that you do.

you continuously scribble in your notebook, biting your fingernails, the same anxious impulses mark finds himself unconsciously doing. day in and day out mark clocks a few more similarities between you two, that's interesting.

you become less of an apparition and more of an actual person, october begins coming to a close, temperatures falling at the rapid rate of the leaves. in the next coming weeks, he'll probably begin wearing jackets.

"i think maybe we should start going to each other's places after school?"

you pause in your dragging when mark brings that up, one click to your pen. you lick your teeth, whole body tensing. "we can't go to my place" you clear your throat. "my parents.."

you stop midway through your own sentence, it's as if you were restrained, unable to utter the rest of it in.. fear? you avoid mark's gaze, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

mark blinks, he sort of expected that answer. another click to your pen, you continue dragging it against your notebook page. mark almost leans over to check what you're doing, but he keeps himself still. you don't have to say more, he doesn't need for you to say more. "oh, it's okay! we can just go to my place".

you remain still. "your parents won't mind?"

mark quickly shakes his head. "they never mind, honestly they keep complaining about how i don't bring people over".

for the first time since mark's met you, a small laugh leaves your lips. "okay.. that's fine".

fine. not good, just fine. maybe it takes a while for you to warm up, mark doesn't mind, he can wait.

you tug at a strand of your hair using your finger, licking your teeth. "is friday good for you?" mark inquires, watching as you again begin vigorously clicking your pen.

you again pause before answering, an indecipherable feeling entering you. mark tries to study you, but he gets nothing, he really is clueless to how you are. "friday is fine" you then say, much too rapidly for it to be authentic. you seem shaky, erratic, it all seems so scary.

mark nods, a final click to your pen. "okay.. after school maybe? we could walk together".

yet another flimsy suggestion, mark only utters such a thing because he doesn't exactly want to pick specific times. it's easier this way, directly after school, you have your last class together, just heading home after it all finished would be fine. it's simple.

you stare at him as if he just grew two heads, your eyes dilated in a freakish fashion. mark finds it staggering, you always stare at him as if he's said something absurd when he offers even the tiniest bit of kindness to you. your eyebrows furrow, simply a look of pure confusion painted on your face.

but even with the torture you seem to be facing in your own mind, you present a neutral smile. "yeah, that's okay".

okay. not good, just okay.

mark thinks he can deal with okay.

the coming friday enters like a freight train, it's a tumultuous crash that is so rapid the world shakes. mark scratches behind his ear, eyes droopy as he simply awaits for the ending of class.

he zones out on the sound of a pen dragging against a notebook page, he doesn't need to crane his head back to know that you're scribbling something into your notebook. he wonders if you're interested in drawing, maybe you enjoy the aspect of art, that seems interesting.

mark wants to ask, but there's always a voice in his head that chastises him for being so curious, the same way his mother used to when he'd ask outlandish questions as a child.

he has to use all of the fight in him to not look back at you, he'd probably get another weird utter from you if he decided to simply turn back and stare, mark isn't stupid, he knows how people are, he knows it's weird to just sit and stare at someone.

one click to your pen.

class dismisses as soon as it begins, and mark almost falls to the floor when he stands up, his exhaustion practically weighing him down. he acts in a strange manner, one that draws a small snicker from you as you observe his behavior.

"you alright there?" mark only sighs, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"i'm fine just.. tired" mark explains, chuckling emptily. you simply stare again, tightening your hold against your backpack. you click your tongue, shoulders still tense as ever. "do you want to come over now or..?"

you nod. "now is fine".

mark makes sure to not show his elation too clearly, just presenting his regular smile as it is to you. he almost grabs your hand, he wants to feel the intertwining of your fingers, but again, you'd probably punch him in the face.

the walk isn't long, mark walks to school every single day, having not skipped a beat ever since freshman year began. you two stroll towards mark's place in silence, the air growing awkward as the autumn air breezes through your hair.

mark clears his throat, taking in a breath. "is your hand getting better?"

it's a trifling inquiry mark only makes out because of the need for conversation, it'd be so much worse if you two were just quiet. mark usually doesn't have a problem with talking to people, but with you, it's just the slightest bit difficult.

you again offer a curt shrug as a response. "it's okay".

okay. wow, you never really give a sure answer. mark wonders if you even know the answer yourself.

"okay isn't really a reassuring answer".

"doesn't matter".

it does to me.

the words hang heavy on mark's lips, but they then die down in his throat, would it be strange to say that to someone you barely even know? someone who probably doesn't consider you a friend in their own indecipherable mind? mark curses himself for harboring such strong feelings towards you, someone whose basically a stranger.

"again, nothing i haven't felt before" you mutter, words hushed in their usual manner. you leave no more room for explanations, going silent as you continue your walk beside him.

mark, though curious, also remains silent, slowly speeding up as he makes out the sight of his house.

you keep your head down when mark opens the door, peaking his head from behind it. "mom! i'm home!"

mark misses the small flicker of jealousy in your eyes, too busy getting attacked by his mother's frenzied affection. you could only stare at the spectacle, keeping your silence.

"oh, and whose this?"

mark blinks, his big eyes widening extraordinarily. "this is y/n, my classmate, were doing a project together".

you again keep silent for a while, clearing your throat as she offers you a smile. "it's nice to meet you mrs. lee".

"oh you're adorable, look at those cheeks!"

you had half a mind to lean back when she pinched your cheek, but you stayed still, even with the tense of your stance. mark snickers behind his hand, finding the sight amusing.

he lets a breath fall from his lips. "were gonna go study in my room, if that's okay.."

"that's fine! don't be afraid to tell me if you need anything!"

she claps her hands happily and ruffles mark's hair, yet you continue staring incredulously, as if the actions were alien. you only nodded, silence again overtaking you as you follow behind mark to his room, smiling at his mother as you walk your way there.

"your mom is nice" you whisper, mark only able to hear it because of the lack of space between you two. you still don't smile, a neutral expression remaining on your face.

mark again chuckles lightly, motioning his head forward as he holds his door open for you. "yeah, everyone says that, you okay though?"

you glance back at him, puzzled. "yeah.. i'm fine".

fine, that has to be a specific buzzword of sorts. mark again blinks, several emotions flaring in his irises. "well i noticed you kinda froze when my mom touched you".

you merely offer a shrug, settling onto the floor and pulling out the several books you'd been reading prior. "i'm just not used to that kind of affection".

mark raises an eyebrow, dropping his backpack onto the ground with a resounding thud, the many books practically shaking the floor. that was an answer didn't really expect. maybe he just doesn't get it, your mom can't be that bad, it's your mom! how could a mother not harbor affection towards her child.

you snap your head up, a look in your eye, as if you were daring him to make a brash comment about your family life. mark gulps in the quietest way possible, smile straining against his lips. "did you get any more notes on the steam engine's origins?"

you reply with a small smile, seemingly pleased he changed the topic.

hours go by with you two simply studying and talking about your topic, the familiar drag of your pen filling the air of mark's room. you didn't bring up anything off topic, it's honestly impressive how long you stayed without getting distracted, but mark assumes it's because you just don't enjoy talking.

you've pretty much given up on the subject at hand, resorting to drawing whatever in your notebook. dark circles begin visibly appearing under your eyes, but you still don't make a comment, simply preoccupying yourself with your mini art pieces.

mark stares, eyes drifting off to his open window, the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon. he admires the reddish-orange hue of the sky, his lips turning up at the picture.

"what time is it?"

mark's eyes flicker in a sudden shift, and he again glances at you, then at the clock against the wall. "it's almost eight pm".

you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, gathering the books you rested on the floor to again put back into your backpack. one click to your pen, you also let it fall into your pencil case. "i should probably get going now.. thank you for letting me come over".

mark shakes his hand, offering a dismissive wave. "it's nothing, if you want to start doing this more often.. you know my parent's won't mind".

you pause, letting your silence fester as you put on your backpack. you bite your inner cheek, mark can practically hear you thinking. "..maybe" you mutter, staring down at the floor as you begin making your way down the hall, towards the front door.

mark pretty much springs to his feet, he doesn't want to be an impolite guest, his mom always told him that it's nice to walk people out. "or we could just go back to studying in the library".

he really just wants you to be comfortable.

you pause, steps slowing down as you make it to the middle of the living room. your fingers tap against the straps of your backpack, licking your teeth. "i'll think about it, then when i decide i'll tell you".

mark finds himself smiling at that. it's again, a start. "okay, i can wait".

you share yet another neutral smile, but it seems your lips itch to turn up even more, you seem to want to share a genuine smile with mark, but you stop yourself for some reason. "you're so patient".

"i learned from the best".

you again bite your inner cheek, and mark's eyebrow raises, those words appear to displease you.

"oh are you leaving already y/n?"

your displeasure transforms into immediate bliss when mark's mother again enters, blinking. "yeah, it's getting late now".

"do you not want to stay for dinner?"

you again stop in your place, seemingly freezing. mark does the same, parroting your expression with his shoulders tensing. he glances over at you, watching as the inner battle your having in your head plays on your forehead in big bold letters. "um.. i—"

"mark!" his mother chastises, smacking his arm in a manner that draws a small wince. "what are you standing there for? invite your friend over for dinner!"

mark almost wants to utter he's not my friend, but that's just so mean to say out loud. he isn't exactly sure if that's what you would want or not, so his mouth again hangs open like he's some sort of idiot who doesn't know how to speak.

but you break the silence by chuckling silently. "it's okay mrs. lee i wouldn't want to overstay my welcome".

she sucks her teeth, waving a dismissive hand in the same manner mark does. "don't say that! you're welcome here now! have you eaten yet?"

you can only stare incredulously, biting the skin off your lips. "no not really.."

she gasps in horror, her big brown eyes holding a familiar look of worry. "you must be starving then! just stay for a few minutes, yeah?"

you so badly want to decline, mark sees it in the shift you perform, but it's also impossible to decline, you share one glance with mark, then you sigh. "okay.. thank you ma'am".

"don't thank me, i'm simply doing the bare minimum".

you wonder where you've heard that one before.

mark finally snaps out of his daze, a warm smile spreading across his features. "are you really staying?" he inquires when his mom walks back to the kitchen, the volume of his voice merely a small whisper.

"just for a few minutes" you whisper in reply, the straps of your backpack burning into your palm with how hard you're pressing onto it.

mark can barely even hide the bigger smile that threatens to paint his face. that's nice, it's not along the lines of a sure or an okay, it's something more.

maybe it's a step in the right direction.

WHEN MONDAY AGAIN ROLLS AROUND, MARK has way too much on his mind. the crisp october air has just gotten cooler, his heavier sweaters now in need. a few days from now it might begin smelling much more brisk, trees will wither at an even quicker rate, the leaves crunching under his shoes will fly away in the breeze without bidding so much as a goodbye. by the time november comes to a close, mark will have worn out this red sweater he's so attached to. for now though, he's going to wear it every single day, it matches the appearance of the autumn season, he wants to stay on theme (and he also just has a super huge attachment to the sweater).

even after you stayed over for a few extra minutes to have dinner at his house, courtesy of his mother's own magnanimity, you two still don't establish any kind of friendship. he heard you utter a few words about how he clearly inherited that from her, but he feigned ignorance as he focused on eating dinner.

your presentation is next week, the last week was simply full of research questions and many pieces of cardboard scattered across the floor. the librarian finds the sight of you two so mundane that she greets you with a small nod each time you enter.

there's much more studying than there actually is talking about anything else, an unseen work ethic mark usually wouldn't find weird if it wasn't for the morbid curiosity he has for everything.. well— you.

mark stares as you continue jotting, tape on your right hand side you stare at the cardboard folder you two decided to use for your presentation. he's been distracted for a while now, but you're still as focused as ever, it's pretty admirable how dedicated you are to this project.

"do you maybe wanna be friends?"

the tiniest sound of ink dropping onto a paper stops, one click to your pen. you always seem to do that, pause midway through your actions before fully taking his words into account. you always stare at him as if he says something absurd, like he's a crazy person. mark finds each of your actions pretty strange.

"what?"

he claps his hands, nails scratching the back of his own palms. "i don't know.. you've had dinner with my parents already, isn't it weird that we aren't friends?"

you itch to say something, and mark wishes superpowers would be granted to him in this very moment. he can't tell what you're thinking and the irritation begins to seep in as quick as he craves for it to disappear. "unless you don't want to be friends.. i don't mind".

what a terrible liar. he does mind. he fucking minds so much it's going to begin physically paining him soon enough.

you let go of the tense you seem to hold onto, shoulders relaxing as you sink into your chair. "fine, let's be friends then".

you say the words in a manner that indicates you're just the slightest bit weirded out, almost everything about mark seems to weird you out, and maybe it makes mark feel a little insecure.

"what's your favorite season?"

"excuse me?" you narrow your eyes, and mark thinks any courage he could've held in that moment dies down in his throat.

mark blinks, you have no reason to be so terrifying. it must be some skill of yours. "well usually when you make friends with people you get to know them.. i don't really know much about you, it's a start".

a start, there it is again, a start. your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth, you pull your sleeves over your arms. "what? like twenty questions?"

mark's slow nod is almost barely recognizable. "yeah basically".

you stare for a moment, your silence overtaking you once again. maybe you're just thinking of an answer, maybe you don't think of these things in the way mark does, cogs turn in his brain, and he begins;

"i like summer.. mostly because my birthday is in summer but i've never really been a fan of the cold, it's excruciating to sleep in the summer but i greatly prefer it anyway, it's easier to sleep in heat than trudge to school in thick snow".

when mark releases a final breath, he again glances at you. oh! he just rambled, he just rambled through a response that he basically programmed into his head in preparation for this kind of question.

you again, look at him like he's crazy, but there's a hint of amusement in your expression, your lips threatening to turn up into a grin. "i don't really have a favorite".

mark's face scrunches, that's a boring answer. "okay but if you had to choose, which one would you pick?"

your shoulders again drop, rising into a shrug that isn't exactly of confusion, but something much more complicated. "autumn, it's like the in between season, summer makes my skin feel too clammy and winter is just.. painful".

"painful?"

"i don't really enjoy snow" you begin clicking your pen consistently once more. mark wonders if that's one of your anxious habits, he has some of those as well, he wonders a lot about you. "i guess it can be pretty but it's so cold i just can't help but dislike it".

"valid point".

you hum in response, and mark again smiles. it's pretty nice talking to you about just stupid things like this, hopefully you can share more moments in such a fashion. "do you like history?"

you snort. "not as much as you clearly do".

mark shakes his head for some reason. "i don't really enjoy history i just put a crazy amount of effort into it like i do my other subject.."

"well you have to stay on the principal's honor roll".

mark clears his throat, if he couldn't pinpoint your tone of voice, he would've thought you were insulting him with a show of sarcasm, but it's quite the opposite, there's a show of admiration in that tone of yours, respect. it's flattering, and if mark wasn't still afraid of you punching him in the face, he would've allowed for tease to slip from his lips.

"you're very smart too, just in your own way".

"well i'm much more of a science person" you respond, and mark's eyes widen in a form of daze. he had no idea what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that.

"science?"

"you seem surprised" you utter, just the faintest hint of surprise on your features as you mirror the look mark gave you seconds prior (save for your eyes widening).

"i don't know, i would've never guessed science".

"i've long finished that class i just.. i find the aspect of science interesting" you pause your consistent clicking of your pen, again beginning to draw out something in your notebook.

mark almost wants to inquire about what you draw on the pages, but he keeps that in the recesses of his mind. "like biology and stuff?"

"physics, chemistry, astronomy, all the bullshit you hate learning about in school" though you focus on the drawing you seem pretty into, you also remember to give as much attention to mark. "it's interesting to research about when there isn't an uptight guy up your ass".

mark snickers at the reply, completely knowing of the teacher you're referring to with that sentence. "mr. cho isn't that bad".

"oh trust me, he is".

you giggle at your own response, the first show of a genuine smile mark sees on your face ever since the first time he met you. "sorry for calling you weird the last time".

shock flickers in mark's galaxy like irises. he wasn't exactly expecting an apology from you, he already got over it (as much as he could with how terrified of you he was). "it's okay, i guess i was being kinda pushy".

"no i was just being difficult, don't blame yourself".

mark wants to but in, yet his mouth clamps shut. he itches to tell you no, to tell you that he just doesn't get you yet, but it's not your fault.

"well were friends now, so it doesn't matter".

when your eyes cast towards him, an unusual shiver runs down his spine, but a smile stays stuck to his face.

after legions of fear, friendship is finally established.

but it's still a little strange. though mark finally knows a few new interesting factoids concerning you (your favorite season is autumn, you have an interest in science, and you aren't as scary as you may seem), you're still a pretty clear mystery.

the rest of the week is spent finalizing your project, there's again less off topic talking again, and mark holds on to that small conversation you originally had in the library for the next few days, looking forward to the next time he can have such a talk with you.

you seem to thrive in silence, so mark doesn't try to force more conversation between you two, when you want to talk to him, you'll talk to him.

but mark still has that itching curiosity which won't go away.

"do you ever worry about someone for no reason?"

mark inquires it to donghyuck on the following friday, the barely warm breeze rushing past them, slightly lifting hairs from their heads. donghyuck blinks, stretching his legs forward onto the rest of the aluminum bleachers. "what do you mean by that?"

mark pauses, he should've expected donghyuck to answer his question with a question. it was all abrupt, flimsy, it wasn't all thought out like most of his inquiries. "i don't know.. sometimes i don't talk much to someone and i still feel like something is going on".

donghyuck raises an eyebrow. "ohh, you're talking about y/n".

mark doesn't even know why he's shocked, out of words, he nods at his response.

donghyuck lets out a breath. "y/n's a pretty stalling guy, he usually doesn't get to the point quickly, you might just be worried because he won't confide in you".

"i mean.. it still feels like there's more there, i can understand if he doesn't want to talk to me but i'm also afraid something more might be going on, you know?"

donghyuck sucks his teeth, offering mark an elbow nudge that seems along the lines of an affectionate gesture. "that might just be because of your naturally aiding impulses, i'm sure if something is going on, y/n just isn't telling you because he doesn't want you to freak".

mark's face scrunches. "i'm not going to freak".

"well then you clearly don't know yourself" donghyuck pats mark on his shoulder, grabbing his backpack and shrugging it over his shoulder. just as mark is about to give yet another brash response, donghyuck quips; "wanna race back to my place?"

before mark can respond, donghyuck leaps off the bleachers and begins sprinting, much to his own dismay. "hey! that's cheating!" he shouts, but donghyuck makes no move of slowing down.

mark curses at his own best friend, trying his best to keep up the pace. "donghyuck!"

all he receives in return is a gleeful giggle.

MARK FIRST MEETS YOUR PARENTS THE FOLLOWING WEEK, an event that was entirely accidental. you guys ace the project, the resounding look of pride from your teacher alerts you of that. the a+ was guaranteed you say, from the moment mrs. lim decided to place you two in a project together she knew it was. still, even with the usually high expectations, mark can barely contain himself, almost hugging you in the aftermath of the whole thing. he isn't sure how he managed to keep it all to himself, but he did, and it's good that he did, he was afraid of making it all more awkward. he was pleased to see a smile blossom on your face, your smile is pretty, it's fitting.

the moment class ends, he makes his way over to you. "we did a good job" he whispers, the volume of his voice barely able to be considered a whisper. he held his hand up, wincing in his own mind as he watches you stare.

but, fortunately for mark, you give him a high five, your hands meeting in a silent slap. for the sheer moment your palms meet, he basks in the feeling of your rough callouses against his soft ones. "you did a good job".

"we did a good job" mark specifies, and you stand up from your place, simply responding with a small nod.

you decide to not argue with him, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. there's a small silence that settles into the air, but then mark again perks up. "do you want to walk home together?"

shock colors your features, an instant look of fear flickering in your eyes. "i— i mean.."

you lick your lips, thousands of thoughts running rampant through your mind. "sure" you reply, feeling mark's heavy gaze directed towards you.

again, it's just a sure, nothing exactly reassuring.

mark tightens his hold on his backpack, a small look in his eye that you actively avoid. he decides to not comment on it, instead letting the silence fester as you two bid farewell to your fellow classmates and begin walking home.

it seems you walk home to school as well, you haven't muttered anything about a bus, or about your parents taking you to and from school. he usually sees you walk in the opposite direction of the bus stop, so he simply assumes you walk home like he does.

he hears you mumble something under your breath, and he narrows his eyes, curiosity peaked by the unintelligible words. he glances at you, eyes full of anxiety. "is everything okay?"

your head snaps up so quickly mark almost squeaks at the sharp movement. your eyes are widened comically, but mark can't even find an awkward chuckle ready to leave his lips, you look terrified, you look.. scared.

"m' fine".

"you sure?"

you don't have to lie to me.

mark decides to keep that one to himself.

"yeah i'm fine" you say, avoiding eye contact and stomping your shoes.

you stop in front of an unfamiliar house, only half the walk towards mark's own place. oh, so you don't live that far away from school. you live closer than mark even does, he guesses he again learned something new about you.

"hey you don't even live that far away" mark says, hoping his smile will somehow brighten your mood. he watches a small flicker of bliss form on your face, and he manages to contain his own elation. "you didn't tell me you lived close by".

you again mutter something unintelligible under your breath, but your tone of voice indicates that you're just the slightest bit afraid once again.

mark is about to ask again when the door swings open, and an unfamiliar woman with a mean look in her eye. she squints at the sight of you, irritation crossing her expression. "i thought you were staying at school late".

the look of fear in your eyes becomes more of embarrassment, but the terror remains. "i um— i messed it up, my projects over".

mark studies her face for a moment, he assumes that's your mother, but he doesn't capture a single resemblance between you two. "crock of shit" she mumbles, her eyes shift erratically, and she clicks her tongue in a manner reminiscent of how you do it.

mark stops as he feels an awkwardness shift in the air, and she finally has half a mind to acknowledge his presence. "do i know you?"

her head tilts slightly, and mark almost jumps back in complete terror. "no i.. mark lee, i'm y/n's friend".

she raises an eyebrow, a chuckle of disbelief being her immediate response. "you have friends?"

you lick your teeth, the irritation in your expression betraying the words on your lips: "i didn't mean to lie" you continue to avoid her eyes, as if afraid she might turn you into stone if you even glance at her face. "i'm sorry".

she dismisses your apology rather quickly. "whatever i don't care.." she almost rolls her eyes, but she seems to stop it. "it's nice to meet you.." she snaps her fingers as her words trail off, and mark realizes she forgot his name already. "mark".

your cheeks tint pink with embarrassment, and you look down at the floor, holding in your breaths. "can i have a few minutes?" you mumble, tutting silently.

she shrugs. "be quick, we have to talk" irritation laces her tone, and she places a performative smile on her face as she glances at mark, the door closing behind her.

mark is almost completely overtaken by his silence, but then you sigh, shoulders relaxing. "was that your mom?"

you mimic her prior shrug, tongue prodding at your cheek. "more or less.." you don't exactly react to those words, simply have an indifferent expression on.

"you don't look like her at all".

the moment the words escape mark, he slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes widening. that has to be offensive in some way, that's absolutely ridiculous to say, if his mom were here she'd smack him on the back of the head for the way he just acted. instead, you reply with a silent chuckle, a small smile painting your face.

"foster parents".

mark blinks. "what?"

"they're my foster parents, not my actual ones" you explain, and mark's heart drops to his feet.

oh. that's the entire expanse of your situation. mark didn't exactly think that would be the case, he doesn't know what he expected, but it definitely wasn't this.

"oh" he voices out loud, gritting his own teeth. "i— i'm sorry i didn't know".

he almost feels guilty in a sense.

for what, though?

"it's alright" you shake your head, shrugging your backpack over your shoulder, your expression of indifference remains. "see you on monday".

mark has no idea how he collects his words. "yeah, see you.."

but mark can't walk home without the feeling of nausea bubbling up in his stomach.

CONTRARY TO YOUR VERY WORDS, YOU DO NOT show up on monday. mark immediately jumps to the worst possible outcome. he isn't exactly sure why he jumped to thinking the worst, he's simply afraid something happened. your.. mothers sharp glare remains permanently framed in his memory, she was absolutely terrifying. when monday flies by with no sight of you, mark almost wants to walk to your place himself, but he keeps himself settled in his own thoughts, he wouldn't want to freak you out. his worries extended towards the day after, the greeting november air only adding to his worries.

now the oncoming cooler air is completely welcomed on mark's part. he enjoys the cold weather more than he has the gall to admit, and his dark red sweater has already been worn out even after only a week of consistently wearing it.

mark entered class on tuesday with a whole wave of nausea overtaking anything else he could've been feeling. when he took his seat, he practically waited to be bestowed with bad news.

he licks his lips as the teacher begins taking attendance, the 'here' he mutters is full of distraught he couldn't tell he was holding.

mrs. lim narrowed her eyes at her clipboard, the click of her tongue bouncing off the walls. "has anyone seen y/n?"

the question is asked out of sheer curiosity, just the slightest hint of worry present in her tone. it's a thing to be absent once, but you're usually only absent once, you're a pretty consistent student in terms of attendance.

her eyes flicker up, and the rest of the class begin their resounding murmurs. mark merely glances around, licking his teeth, additionally sucking his teeth to sell his irritation.

she scrunches her nose, about to ask again when, as if on cue, you walk in through the door. the indifference painted on your face is similar to the one he memorized back on that friday. you blink, avoiding her eyes in the manner of an ashamed child. "sorry i'm late" you mutter, frantically extending your gaze around the whole room.

mrs. lim stares, attempting to read your inner most thoughts. "it's okay just.. you'll get a tardy pass later sit down".

you offer your best nod, lips remained pressed shut as you shuffle towards your seat, avoiding mark's eyes specifically. his gaze trails onto yours, but because he can't see your eyes, he can't read how you feel.

you hang your head low as you take your seat, the familiar dragging of your pen against your notebook page not filling the room. mark feels as if the room is suffocating him whole, your very presence itself strangely scaring him.

"why didn't you show up yesterday?" mark inquires, he really wants make it sound like it's all okay, but his words trail off into an accusing whine.

you pause, shrugging. there's so much exhaustion behind your eyes, as if you've missed out on weeks upon weeks of sleep. "something came up".

you attempt your best shot at walking away from mark, back faced towards him as you walk in the direction of the bathroom.

mark scrunches his face, speeding up his own pace and brushing his shoulder against yours. he can no longer contain his curiosity, you look absolutely terrified of.. something. "what came up?"

"nothing".

"don't lie to me".

mark's expression of worry is now at full affect, his big brown eyes holding anxiety. you manage your best scoff, the grasp on your backpack tightening. your face twitches, the flicker in your eyes betraying the disdain you attempt to face make with.

still, you try to brush him off, shaking your head. "i'm not lying, and besides, it's none of your business".

mark kisses his teeth, a loud sigh now leaving his lips. he clears his throat, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

you stare, crumbling under his undeniably soft gaze. "i'm sorry" you mumble, immediately looking away from him, eyes shifting uncontrollably. "i just don't want to talk about it" you poke the side of your cheek with your tongue, clasping your hands behind your back.

mark stares down at his feet, biting down into his bottom lip. he scratches at his own fingers, anxious impulses all high and mighty. "it's alright, i— um.. do you wanna go get ice cream?"

you blink, sucking your teeth. you scratch the back of your neck, and mark has no idea why he asks that question, he just knows ice cream usually makes him feel better, maybe it's the same for you.

"ice cream? in november?"

"ice cream always helps people feel better".

you offer a small chuckle at that, head turned down as you nod.

mark smiles, he can't believe that worked. your walk to the local ice cream parlor is silent, clear fatigue still present under your eyes. you lightly shiver at the cold breeze that rushes past you, a faint mutter from mark questioning if you two should even be going to get ice cream in the first place.

"you're the one who suggested we get ice cream" you breath out, making no indication that you were against the idea of getting ice cream after school in the beginnings of winter. "i don't mind".

"but i just want to make sure".

the words seemingly appall you, and mark realizes that most of his words seem to have that effect on you. you again fester in your silence, tongue licking at your lips as you catch sight of the nearby ice cream parlor. "it doesn't really matter.."

why doesn't it matter? why is it so strange that i care about you y/n?

the words don't escape mark, they simply fizzle out into the air as the screeching of the open door instead meets his ears. mark is quick to smile as you two walk into the ice cream parlor, his humming immediately filling the air.

"i kind of see ice cream as a comfort thing because it reminds me of summer.." mark mutters, licking his spoon stained with the cookie dough flavoring.

you don't eat right away, simply stab your spoon into your pile of vanilla. "how can something so cold be so comforting?"

just look at you.

you suck your teeth, as if sensing his thoughts, the ice cream brightens your mood in just the slightest, he can see it in the way your eyes flare up. at least he momentarily got it, at least there's at least a sliver of happiness there.

"everything cold is comforting in summer".

"it's going to begin snowing soon" you smack your lips at the taste of vanilla on your tongue, it's just.. vanilla. "might get a brain freeze".

"worth it for the sugar".

now that, that draws a small snicker from you, your lips finally turning up in a display of ecstasy. maybe it isn't you finding that funny, but it's you finding mark's delivery to be blissful. your head tips down as you attempt to stifle your laughter, but you can't exactly hold yourself together.

mark stares at the prospect, his lips turning up unconsciously as his gaze is stick onto you, and how you look.. pleased.

mark can't even contain it. he loves seeing you be happy.

which then results in his mind retracting, he thinks back to the sight of your mother's angry face, and his lips turn downward.

maybe you were gone because something happened at home, mark can really do nothing but assume.

"sacrificing your well being for sugar? that's so.. strange".

"sugar is a good coping tool" mark breaths, throwing out the ice cream that he finished rather quickly.

you simply hum in reply, clearly not believing those words, but letting mark have the win anyway.

"hey y/n?"

you blink, your gaze slow as you stare down mark. mark clears his throat, swallowing his own fear. "i want you to talk to me.. okay? i don't mean to come off as pushy or annoying or nosey i just want to make sure you're alright, i'm not going to bite or anything".

you opt to awkwardly chuckle at that last bit, again shrugging your backpack over your shoulder. "i know.."

mark's face scrunches, he still doesn't really have you, you're still pretty withdrawn. "you don't have to tell me about everything just.. you know i'm here, if you ever need someone to talk to—"

"you'll be my first choice, don't worry" you finish the next half of your sentence with your own words, words that can't be feigned honesty, as you avoid mark's eyes in the process.

the words strike something.. different in mark. is it maybe bliss? some undiscovered form of happiness? he doesn't exactly know the name, even if it feels as if it's on the tip of his tongue, but he's pleased for now. there's trust that's been established between you two, you trust mark.

"okay, okay" mark heaves a breath, his smile sticking to his face.

you seem to like his smile, because your pupils dilate at the sight of it.

maybe it isn't exactly the ice cream that helped you feel better, but mark can't figure out that it might be him that's your cure.

FRIENDSHIP ALSO MEANS HAVING TO SPEND time with each other, something that seems easy enough. "spending time" simply equates to mark talking and you listening. again, you don't exactly enjoy talking, so you leave all of it to him. mark talks to death about himself, his life, his dad, his mom, stuff you probably don't find interesting, but keep circulating through your mind. mark can hear the disdain you must be feeling, because all he does is talk about his stuff. he doesn't think he would enjoy that if it was someone else, but you really don't seem to mind, as long as you don't need to do the talking.

"do i talk about myself too much?" mark abruptly inquires, head whipping towards you in an instant. your gaze is fixed on the ground, and you opt to sucking your teeth as a silent response. "it's alright, you can be honest".

you snicker at that. "you're a very.. thoughtful person".

mark narrows his eyes. what is that supposed to mean?

"you think a lot, there's simply so much on your mind" you clarify, tongue dragging across your teeth. "i don't mind if you talk, it's how i learn".

"learn about..?"

"you, what you like, how you are, talk all you want it's okay".

mark straightens himself, hands dropping into his lap. "i want you to talk".

you raise an eyebrow. "what?"

"talk about yourself, i know enough about me, why don't you tell me about you?"

"i'm not that interesting" your quick to say, fingers beginning to pick at your own individual nails. when mark sends you a look, you follow up on your words; "really i'm not, don't look at me like that".

mark takes in a deep sigh, carting a hand through his light brown hair. "it doesn't matter".

you bite into your cheek. mark parroted your own words to signal at least.. something, reaching out to you might be a challenge, but mark isn't going to stop trying.

you contemplate, eyes heavy lidded. "i mean— why are you at the police station so much?"

the police station. that's where you two first met, you raise your shoulders into a performed shrug. your dark sweater paralleling the color of your eyes, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "my parents are assholes".

the words are said surely, there isn't indifference there, there is no dissatisfaction behind your eyes, you know what you're saying, you don't even mind what you're saying.

mark could never say such a thing, let alone say them about his parents.

"oh".

mark clears his throat. "you're a foster kid? how does that work?"

mark knows how it works, he just needs to see how the terms spill from your lips. "they just drop me into another home when my other foster parents get sick of me, adoption is useless so i just stay with strangers who get paid monthly that don't care".

mark isn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't that. his mouth remains dry, what is a regular response to exposition like that? he scratches at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, guilt again in the air.

"sorry, i really know how to ruin the mood".

"no no! it's okay, i'm the one who asked".

"still, didn't need to make it all.. depressing".

"i mean— it is pretty depressing" mark scratches at his own knees, smile awkward. "but sometimes that's just how life decides to treat us".

us is a bit of a shallow way to put it, mark doesn't understand your circumstances, he's never faced any of what you face. "i'm sorry, i wish i could do something".

"you need to stop apologizing".

"but—"

"stop" you suck a breath between your teeth, hands placed symmetrically at your sides.

"alright, sorr.." he pauses when you raise an eyebrow, the beginning of his second apology forcing itself back down his throat. "okay".

you just barely hold back your shiver, the fall air rushing past you in a speed reminiscent of the ocean. "shit like that isn't your fault, i get you're.. you care, i know, but you don't have to apologize".

mark opts to awkwardly chuckle. "i don't really know what else to say.."

"you're a nice person to be around".

the words are enough to get a pause, but you don't exactly mind it, you said those words with conviction, as if you had previously thought them out and were completely sure of what they entailed.

or maybe you can secretly sense the effect they have, because mark isn't exactly the best at hiding the formations of his newest expressions. his eyes light up, the shine of the sun peeking behind the clouds amplifying the pleasure he recedes from the compliment.

your lips turn up by in the slightest, and you suck a breath between your teeth as you patiently await his response.

"oh" mark breaths, clearing his throat as he lets the strange feeling in his stomach settle away. "thank you.."

you don't reply, your smile simply mundane. you again kiss your teeth, mark's fingers fiddling at his necklace. "i.. uh— another thing i'm pretty interested in astronomy".

the mutter is half said, the rest of your words trailing off into something barely intelligible. mark's eyes dazzle in intrigue, astronomy is pretty interesting. "you like space?"

"i love space" you shake your head in disbelief at your own words. "it's pretty, the stars, the planets, just.. all of it is beautiful".

"and deadly".

now that one is a surprise, because you aren't able to stifle your laughter, your head shaking as a display of your amusement. "well yeah but that can be said for many things".

mark's eyes again dazzle, his own intrigue building up at the reply. "that's what makes a lot of the world interesting".

your eyebrow raise in a parroting of mark's own intrigue. "more like it's what makes it terrifying".

"terrifying can be interesting".

"i never said it couldn't".

your knees knock together, an indecisive look in your eye. you pull your sleeves over your arms when you begin noticing the goosebumps, a sigh leaving your lips immediately. "it's fine if you talk, i don't mind".

mark has no idea why, but he feels that those words are a lie. "it doesn't get repetitive?"

your expression falters for a simple moment, but instead of speaking, you keep your words to yourself. you shake your head silently, hands placed into your lap.

there's a moment of silence again, mark carefully crafts his next words, straightening his posture as he keeps his gaze trained straight ahead. "do you like drawing?"

seamless segway.

it would be seamless if mark wasn't shaking so much, maybe it was dumb of him to forget his sweater, but in his defense, it was warm in the morning! he would've been sweating on the way to school.

mark thinks if he focuses enough, he'll be able to hear the familiar continuous clicking of your pen in the background.

he again shudders, a small breath leaving his lips.

when you glances back at you, you smoothly slip your sweater from your arms and hand it over, slightly startling mark back. your face remains still, your gaze averting in an instant. "take it".

mark blinks dumbly.

you suck your teeth. "your cold, take it, you can give it back to me tomorrow".

"y/n—"

"you're not walking home cold.." you mutter, simply placing the sweater in mark's lap as you watch him again involuntarily shudder. "i'll be okay, don't worry about me".

mark wants to argue, but you leave no room for that, stubbornly crossing your arms. he takes the sweater and mutters a silent "thank you" 

a somewhat ggressive act of kindness, mark guesses that's pretty fitting for the kind of person you are.

he still tries to get you to open up, and slowly, it seems to be working.

"i know you hate snow" he comments whilst you two walk down the hallway that friday. he tightens the grip he has on his bag, a small smile on his face as he pictures the upcoming winter. your hum is a usual response, a simple sound mark has to focus to even catch. "how do you plan to survive winter?"

you snicker silently, again humming. "can't do anything but walk".

"you better have good boots".

"i have good boots, maybe not a good jacket, though".

he's about to ask for clarification when the spawn of satan decides it's his time to shine; "markie!"

mark flinches when donghyuck comes around the corner, bouncing on his heels as he makes his way over to mark. mark's loud sigh ricochets off the walls of the hallway. "that's the bane of my existence.." he mutters towards you, and you chuckle lightly.

"you're so sweet to me" donghyuck's smile is strained, but he doesn't focus all his attention on mark that often. his eyes flit over towards you, and there's immediate intrigue there. "and you must be the famous y/n!"

the volume of his voice causes for your face to strain, but you keep it all together as to not offend him. you glance everywhere before again focusing on his face, a small smile showing up on your lips. "famous is.. probably pretty dramatic".

donghyuck exchanges a knowing look with mark, who blushes and clears his throat whilst feigning ignorance at that glance. he extends his hand towards you, whistling. "well with how mark is, it seems you are".

he snickers, and mark just barely keeps himself from punching the younger. you shake your head as you too shake his hand, avoiding mark's eyes. "okay then, it's nice to meet you.."

"donghyuck".

"donghyuck, nice to meet you".

mark watches the interaction with wide eyes, his mind rushing with a flurry of thoughts. "i can't believe this is our first time meeting! it's been a while since you two became friends huh?"

friends is a weird word, but you don't exactly comment on it. "yeah, mark has mentioned you before he just never said your name".

mark blows a breath between his lips, unaware of why his anxieties are suddenly rising. you glance at him, practically sensing the presence of his anxiety. mark almost jumps, but he manages to keep himself together. "i have to get home early, i'll see you monday".

you don't exactly seem sure of those words, but your smile makes it all look fine. "it was nice meeting you donghyuck".

the other only hums, you two exchanging smiles as you begin your way down the hallway, smile dropping once you get a wise distance away from them.

mark keeps the silence before donghyuck pipes up; "isn't he cute?"

mark chokes on his own spit, his face noticeably scrunching up as he glances in his childhood friends direction. "what?"

"don't tell me you've never thought it before" donghyuck snickers, affectionately nudging mark as an uncertain smile tugs at his lips.

"i haven't! you're so.. strange".

donghyuck narrows his eyes, clearly he doesn't believe such words. "okay mark, i'll believe that for your own sake".

and mark can't register why he assumes he's lying, donghyuck is just crazy.

donghyuck is just crazy.

OKAY, NOW THAT IT'S BEEN MENTIONED, MARK can't exactly stop thinking about it. donghyuck can be so stupid sometimes, but maybe it's somewhat justified. he never really took the time to focus on your facial features in specific, and he guesses that laying awake at three in the morning is the perfect time to focus on them. mark noticed everything, nose freckles, moles, the shape of your eyes, the curve of your lips, your dark brown irises, he usually picks off the physical traits of those he's meeting for the first time with stark detail in his own mind. he really never did think about it, but now he has all the time too.

are you cute? mark's eyes stick to the photos decorating his walls, the figures shrouded in darkness without the light of the sun permeating through the window aiding in producing the shin they so clearly require.

yeah, you are. mark isn't over admitting when he finds a guy cute, you can easily be described as such. there's something about the flicker of your eyes that entices him, but that's just.. strange.

he opts to rolling over, staring at his alarm clock nestled onto the bedside table. being kept up because you're stuck pondering about whether you're friend not friend is cute is absolutely idiotic. since when has this happened before?

that question is also idiotic, it hasn't.

he pulls the covers over him and nuzzles against his pillow, feigning ignorance to his flurry of thoughts with a sigh as he keeps the pattern of your moles pictured in his head.

thanksgiving breezes past just as it always does every year, donghyuck's family again comes over for the festivities ('festivities' equaling the sharing of meals while the two scarf down pretty much everything in the kitchen), but mark stays unfocused even with a bunch of people other than you around him.

then the end of november speed runs until mark's face scrunches at the upcoming first day of december.

december is too cold, there's no foresight of ice on the ground, no snow ready to sneak up on everybody just yet, but he doesn't care, he can already feel the grimace ready to be painted over his features.

and as the cold breeze balls up it's fist into an open punch, mark takes a small breath;

you said you hate winter.

mark gets it, but it's less of you hating winter and more of mark constantly thinking of.. well— you.

again, he doesn't exactly need to take history, the class is as useless to his academic record as it is interesting, but mark won't continue complaining, he's terrified mrs. lim can secretly read his mind.

"what class are you taking next semester?" mark whispers, leaning back in his seat as the widening of his eyes is in tune with his complete interest.

your shoulders rise in a puzzled shrug, the familiar drag of your pen now right in mark's ear. you don't make an effort to glance upward, but mark is aware you're paying adequate attention anyway. "not sure, they always tell me after, what are you taking?"

mark decides to completely scoot backward, the crack of knuckles causing for your face to scrunch. "computer programming".

there's a beam in your eyes. "as a senior?"

mark's snicker is a result of your tone. "it's for last minute credits, just like this class.."

"ah".

you again engross yourself in whatever it is you're doing in your notebook, mark attempts to sneak a glance, but you seem to sense his eyes, as you flip the page upward where his eyes can't meet it.

well shit, you caught him.

yet you don't mutter a single word about the event which just transpired, you simply continue with the similar drag of your pen.

at this point, the sound is a puzzling solacing noise for mark. he'll never utter such words loudly though, it's strange to admit that the sound of someone drawing in their notebook has become a sense of comfort for you.

mark sometimes wonders how deep the corners of his mind expand. "finals week is coming up".

you hum in reply, nodding your head, pen seemingly having a mind of it's own. mark glances over, unable to decipher the gleam of your eyes. it could be irritation, or maybe it's satisfaction, you're confident in the strength of your brain, it doesn't seem like you would struggle.

your eyes flit up for a moment, and then you snicker for a reason completely unknown to mark. "you nervous?" he decides to quip.

another hum. "always, but i trust most of my intellect".

"you should, you're very smart".

the compliment is spontaneous, an abrupt uttering that you clearly weren't expecting, as heat coils against your skin, the reddish tint clashing with your once vain cheeks. your lips part, the dragging of your pen subsides. you then glance away as you clear your throat, blowing smoke through your lips.

"i'm sure you'll be fine" mark finally finishes, big eyes bugging out as he decides to avert his gaze. "don't give me that look, i've observed, you have one of the highest grades in the class".

"it's all just.. nothing".

mark decides to snicker. "not nothing, you have the ability".

"i guess i'll take your word for it" tease lingers on your tongue. "smartest kid in class after all".

there, now you two are even. you just complimented mark with words that he hears from people everywhere, but hearing them from you is what gets a stupid smile out of him. "oh.. well i don't know about that one".

mark tucks a strand behind his ear, the slightest bit of meekness displayed by his eyes. your eyes flitter upward, and the curve of your lips is satisfying. "yeah you do, you're smart, honor roll smart".

"i would say you're the same".

you long to take those words as a challenge, mark notices a certain burning in your eyes, but you opt to a small smile instead. "not enough for honors".

"well i think so".

and maybe, that's the only thing that matters. your face appears to light up, but you decide it's best to not comment on such a thing.

as the colder days approach, mark learns even more about you he doesn't exactly expect.

and it all comes through smoking.

"what?"

you seem amused by the inquiry asked of you, and mark's eyes widen in their usual jolted fashion, his hands clutching at his sides. you seem to look through him, humor still present in your tone as you reply; "did you just.. you smoke?"

mark clears his throat, eyes immediately averting, his gaze zeroing in on the visible air he can see being blown through his lips. "it's like a— um, anxiety tick thing, sometimes when i get overwhelmed it helps".

you bite into your cheek, shoving a hand into your pocket as you rummage for a while, pulling out a lighter which you shake in air, listening to the clinking of the metal. mark's eyes again bug out, a usual reaction for him, his expression reminiscent of a child hearing someone swear for the first time. "oh.. so you smoke?"

you pass the lighter, whistling in the air as you nod. "yeah, same thing really, it's not regular or anything i just sometimes need to let go".

mark longs to ask why, and you practically read his mind with the words displayed all over his face. "my parents are such amazing stressors, it'd be a shock if i didn't smoke at this point".

he can only stare, blowing smoke out from his lips as he watches it form in front of him. "it gets bad for me during exam season, finals get to my head and i can't resist".

"your parents don't know?"

mark shakes his head rapidly back and forth, a snicker falling from his lips. "nope, i think they would kill me if they found out.. can't let them know".

you opt to once again humming, shoving the lighter back in your pocket as your nose scrunches. you scratch behind your ear, howling winds earning the slightest shiver from you. "ah, i see".

mark keeps himself silent, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he stares forward, his eyes then falling to the ground. it's bare, empty, the sight of snow may meet his eyes in the coming days, maybe tomorrow even, the weather has always been know as unpredictable, a snowstorm could happen tonight, mark is afraid of that one.

"please don't tell anyone" mark whispers, eyes still cast downward. it's embarrassing, not even donghyuck knows that he does, and he's sure donghyuck is a smoker himself. he isn't exactly sure why.. he just knows what the reaction would be. "it's.. um, i don't know actually, feels like everyone thinks of me as a certain person so if they were to find out—"

"i won't tell" you state immediately, raising your pinky. "you have my word" is your next collection of words, mark blinks at you with shining eyes.

a pinky promise? he isn't sure what he expected, but he guesses they are the closest thing to a legally binding agreement.

mark intertwines his pinky with yours, the clash of your fingers together something of a prospect. your finger is rough, his are soft, he can't help but keep that fact tucked away in his mind. "pinky swear?"

"pinky swear".

mark decides he will take your word for it.

he supposes pinky swears do a lot for people, as long as the promise isn't broken, he won't have a reason as to not trust you.

IT'S A WEEK BEFORE FINALS WHEN MARK REALIZES yet another thing he doesn't exactly mean to discover. your simply.. esteemed love for thai food is a prospect he didn't exactly expect, but with a week until finals and the end of the year breathing down your neck, he guesses learning more about you is the right way to go. he wonders if there'll be many more turns to take in the future, he wonders how much truly runs through your heads. through picking your nails and raising eyebrows, he's already been able to decipher a lot, maybe he could just learn more if..

"do you know any good thai restaurants nearby?" he inquires, arms placed idly as he again admires your side profile. you hum, scratching at the sleeves of your sweater. it's a pretty one, the hue is a dark red, mark is curious on if the shades of red are your favorite, he forgets to ask.

your snort is short. "not in this town, it's a distance away from here, used to go regularly as a kid, it'll never get old.."

"so it's like.. a place of comfort?"

"basically" you reply, getting comfortable in your chair. it's the midway point of the period, the class is doing nothing but studying for finals next week, it leaves room for flurries of conversations mark otherwise wouldn't have been able to have with you.

it's nice, discussions flow a little easier between you two now that you've gotten slightly closer. though skepticism remains at an all time high (mark picks up on the mutters you occasionally let slip about your parents, something along the lines of fighting, loose funds, substances, his eyebrows keep furrowed), mark finds the now regular talks a fond juncture.

he rests his head onto his fist, scratching at his jaw with mid length nails. "when was your last visit?"

you shrug despite clearly knowing your response, arms coming to fold over your chest. "i haven't gone since high school began, makes sense because that's when i got put with.. them".

'them' equating to your current foster parents, mark unconsciously slides downward in his seat, anxiety rising. he observes the twitching of your left eye, a sight almost frightening.

"do you— um.. can you go again?"

your right eye closes, a sign of your contemplation. "they're.. my parents, they're crazy".

"have you never attempted to sneak?"

you chuckle, seemingly amused. "really? sneaking? i would've never thought that from you".

"i took part a few times, you could thank donghyuck for that one" mark keeps his head leaned sideways, it's easy to admire your features in this manner. you have a nice side profile, the left of your jaw perfectly highlighted in the lighting of the room. your lips curve upward at the reply, enjoyment behind your eyes.

"oh, i see, you're that kind of pair".

mark longs to figure out the meaning of those words, but you once again begin whistling, arms folding over your chest.

a specific question keeps echoing in mark's mind.

"you could.. uh— why don't we go together?"

you blink, dumbfounded. you study mark for a moment, and he suddenly feels unconscious under your gaze. you then silently snicker, just the slightest bit amused. "what?"

his hands find purchase on the desk before him, eyes avoiding yours, throat clearing. "um.. i just— i don't know, you seem to be fond of the place, wouldn't visiting be nice?"

your eyes narrow. "you're so.. wow, okay".

you chuckle, hiding your oncoming expression behind the cover of your own hands. mark remains anxious at the lack of a reply, nails coming to scratch at his hands. "is that a no?"

"no, no! you're just.. too sweet" you opt to reply, laughter carrying you through. mark feels heat coil over his cheeks, he's sure that it may manifest in color which permeates his skin, but he can't exactly think about that.

"oh, um— i.."

"while i would love to go" you begin, smoothing your hands over your jeans. "that's implying i have to sneak out".

oh, mark can't believe how dangerously impulsive he is.

but instead of a snark, you smile, it's small, yet it results in genuine ease sinking into mark's anxiety ridden heart, his hands coming to clasp together. "that was a dumb thing to say right? i'm sorry, forget i even said anything".

you contemplate for a moment, mark's anxiety again rising as your silence merely continues. "that's a good idea, it'd be nice to go before it starts snowing".

mark almost dies, was that just a yes?

you seemingly read his mind, because your lips do a swift upturn. "i guess i wouldn't mind sneaking out".

mark blinks, attempting to properly register the words without looking like a crazy person. "i didn't— i mean.. you don't have to, i don't want to get you in trouble, if it does—"

"doesn't matter" you cross your arms, leaning back in your seat. "at this point, getting grounded is a blessing for me, it's not that far a walk".

"are you sure?"

you lick your teeth. "i've been conditioned to hide my money better, they barely pay any attention to me".

mark digests the depression littering those words, but you keep up appearances, preventing the dejection from blossoming up in your features. there's shy disappointment behind your eyes, yet you don't comment. "i'm sorry.."

your head snaps in his direction rather quickly. "for what?"

mark shakes his head in reply. "i.. um—"

"don't apologize for something that isn't your fault".

mark bites his tongue before he allows for another apology to slip, your eyebrow raise simply enough to shut him up. you remain the slightest bit terrifying, even after established friendship. "can't help it.."

he picks at his nails, feeling the burning sensation of your eyes on the spot. he guesses his anxiety is really that permeable, and he longs to change the topic. "let's just hope the grades are good, yeah?"

"are you saying you wanna be study buddies?"

"i mean.. that's sort of how our relationship began" one click to your pen, mark tilts his head at the sight of your notebook. it's a simple hardcover, no label, a blank dark shade, yet it seems to carry a large entailing of significance, just like the pen, it has to contain something of an emotional connection to you, maybe, similarly to mark, you form attachments to even the smallest of things.

the use of the word 'relationship' earns a puzzling manner of expression, as if you have to rethink how you two interacted before the establishment of.. your now larger bond.

"that's cute".

you again open your notebook, yet another click to your pen as you begin.. something. mark has never been courageous enough to inquire about it to you, but he assumes there's some length of artistic expression in your personality, or maybe you just really enjoy writing, or you just scribble back and forth. really, mark can't assume what he doesn't know, and maybe you just don't want to divulge such a thing, he doesn't mind.

he simply observes, staring for long enough that you catch sight of it through your peripheral vision. "you'll do well, alright?"

you glance over at him, as if puzzled by the sudden reassurance. mark almost worries that you'll punch him in the face, his mind really needs to stop going down that route. "alright, let's hope you give me your luck".

MARK IS SURE HE COULD PERFECTLY RECITE EVERY SINGLE printed word in the several textbooks he's been staring at with nothing but pure disgruntlement for these past few days. there's a flurry of muddled information swirling around in his brain, he's afraid he might be taking a history quiz and begin scribbling down the formula of quotient entities. the many trigonometry equations have begun rotting him from the inside out, you've practically been an angel of a study buddy for these past few days, even despite the many whispers you let slip about you sleeping through pretty much all of trigonometry. you have strikingly straight notations, not even a letter out of place, penned compositions littering each page.

he can barely help the upturn of his lips.

"didn't you take trig last year? you're supposed to remember these things".

mark keeps his forehead pressed to the desk, the cool air just barely disturbing him. "trig is pretty much useless, math isn't my strong suit".

your eyebrows furrow. "you still got an a".

mark scoffs. "wow, thanks for supporting me with my endless struggle".

your chuckles now appear much more vibrant, some timidity remains, but it's better than how it all was in september, the change jumps out to mark, you're just so—

"you sound defeated, don't worry mark, you're still honor roll smart".

his heart constricts for a moment, and while he would usually be worried he was experiencing some length of a health risk, he knows it isn't that (but he guesses you could result in a heart attack, you're simply very..), but he can never be too sure.

your handwriting is irritatingly neat, nothing of an observable mistake despite pen clearly being used. is it the same pen? do you keep pens? do you like pens? his intrigue towards you could extend for miles, but he lets it stay inward no matter what.

your eyes gleam with the light of an indescribable entity. "do you.. would you still want to go out to eat on friday?"

mark blinks, contemplating despite the very much known answer. "yeah, i brought it up, if it makes you happy.."

"well you should also think about yourself, if you don't want to go—"

"no, no! i do" mark unfortunately can't arise much excuses for his sudden enthusiasm. he notices the amusement on your own features, but he doesn't make a comment. "besides, we won't see much of each other next week, and then the break will come right after".

winter break is usually its own blessing in mark's eyes, but there's this strange installment of fear this year. he isn't sure the extent your parents go, no signs of anything physical that he can see, yet he worries about you just having to be there for a length of almost two weeks. from what he's observed, school seems to be your only source of escape from whatever goes on at home, and he's aware that a student's safe place being school is typically a bad sign.

but maybe that's too much to just tell you right off the bat, you might think he's crazy, you probably already think he's a little crazy.

"aww, you're gonna miss me".

and mark is unsure of why, but a red hue strikes his formerly vain skin, it's simply mindless teasing, yet he can't help his flustered nature. jesus, he might actually have a heart attack, why did the room suddenly spike in temperature?

if you notice, you make no comment. oh that must've been a good ego boost.

"yeah um.. we've really come a long way since september".

he's sounding a little too sentimental, a break really is nothing, mark guesses donghyuck was right, he does care way too much, even so, he feels it's justified. you stare for a moment, scribbling something in your notebook as your gaze averts. "thanks for not giving up on me, even if i was an unbearable asshole in the beginning".

"don't say that" mark softly chides.

"it's pretty true, you can admit it".

he clears his throat, smile displayed. "so are you gonna come to me friday?"

you nod. "if i don't get caught".

mark doesn't mean to showcase his anxiety in the manner of his expression switch, but hiding his lingering fright has proven him extremely difficult, his mother said it's 'detrimental' to commit such an act.

you tilt your head. "are you okay?"

mark nods much too quickly, rendered somewhat speechless. "fine".

the rest of the day is surprisingly less awkward than he expects.

the week completely exhausts mark, he could probably hang onto his own eye bags at this point. though you feign bright normalcy, it's obvious that you're just as tired, you'll both be wiped out after finals.

yet you seem pretty lighthearted.

"you sure walking is just fine?"

"we could hop the train".

a small frown tugs at mark's lips, but the joke isn't exactly distasteful. "i've never gotten that far" the overcast sky clashes with your dark jacket, it's somewhat of a picturesque image, your best features are explicitly highlighted, even with the shadowed sunlight.

"really? i did once in eighth, the conductor let us off at the middle of nowhere, we got a terrible scolding after that one".

mark's eyebrows furrow, there's a lack of context in that reply, as if you said it to yourself instead of to mark. "us?"

your nose scrunches for a minute. "old foster friend, i used to do everything to get in trouble, he'd tag along for the adventure of it".

"oh".

mark doesn't mean to extend the silence, but talking isn't anything of an accord to you, it's easy to sink into a fit of silence, nothing of a bother.

things appear so young and innocuous outside, sometimes mark believes that nature could be the perfect picture of innocence, if it didn't also harbor an equal opportunity of available danger. he shivers, almost slipping on ice which lays dormant on the floor, no snow yet.

mark wishes he could have not a care in the world, and judging by your circumstances, you clearly do too.

the place is a way's walk, but mark guesses it was good to get in some steps. it appears pretty homely, somewhat aged, the walls are cracked, tiles exposed, and from the captured glimpse of the menus, they're old laminated ones.

you stare with fondness, the smell bringing a sense of warmth to you, as if the place healed your scars. "basically, this place is my home".

"is the food up to par?"

"you don't even have to ask".

mark chuckles, and you can't resist your own corresponding chuckle.

"y/n? is that you?"

at the call of your name you blink, smiling right away. it's an older woman, early fifties probably, her jaw hanging in a manner of recognition. "oh you're so big now!"

"hi mrs. saeng" you don't step away, instead you allow for her to fully embrace you, mark simply observing. "sorry, i know last time i said my next visit would be soon".

"oh it doesn't matter, you're still so adorable!" she squeals as she cups your cheeks, completely rendering you speechless. "and your friend is..?"

"mark" you just barely speak through the squeezing of your cheeks. "he's my classmate".

the woman smiles, a huge, homely smile that strikes comfort mark wasn't exactly expecting. his hands come to clasp in front of him, the typical sweet smile taking over his features. "hi, it's nice to meet you".

she gapes in her spot. "he's even cuter than you! oh my goodness look at his cheeks!"

your nose scrunches up in offense, yet it's clearly feigned. "cuter than me? that's rude to say auntie!"

she crazily fawns before you sit, and as you observe the laminated menus which appear on their last lives, your lips take an upturn, but not at a specific thing, simply at them. "auntie?" he inquires.

you snicker. "there's no relation, she's just an old family friend".

auntie by association, mark guessed that one, he again didn't recognize any sort of relation between you two.

and really, it seems you haven't eaten in a while, mark can't help but observe the tiny things. "did you have breakfast this morning?"

you pause, pretending you are genuinely contemplating something. he's pretty sure you burn your tongue midway through inhaling the bouts of food, yet that seems to be the last of your worries, he can't help the goofy laughter which escapes him at that. "it upsets my stomach".

mark doesn't bother inquiring about lunch, his gaze immediately softening. "you need to make sure you always eat, okay?"

you stare, mark supposes the words appear a bit shallow. sometimes people can barely get out of bed, not even able to roll over to throw off their covers, or fold their blankets, or they find themselves rendered so exhausted that mundane tasks extract so much energy.

but it seems you reply with a soft gaze of your own, radiance carrying your expression. "okay".

mark hums, leaning back in his seat. "so what is this place to you?"

you don't even glance upward. "special spot, it holds good memories, from way before everything that's happened.. well— happened".

"you brought me to your special spot, so i'm special?"

you finally do spare a glance, your smile is one of the prettiest sights ever. "of course".

a smile blossoms over his features, his posture unconsciously straightening. he isn't sure why the news excites him so much, he'll internalize it though.

WHEN IT GETS TO A CERTAIN POINT, MARK IS UNSURE OF HOW HE LIVES through the week. he has always prided himself on his intelligence, it isn't the topics which perturb him, it's the extent of his own mind. his eyes grow heavier with each passing day, his wrists may have gone limp, but he doesn't pass out just yet, a good record in comparison to last year. it's simply exam after exam after exam, blue pen marks clashing in the visions of his dreams. he can't even close his eyes without seeing muddled geometric equations, he's going to begin reciting them in the startling mumbles midway through one of his sleepwalking episodes. it's a miracle how he makes it through finals week, but he does, possibly no bad markings.

the exams happen to be the least of his issues though, throughout his week, he was mainly stuck on christmas, specifically stuck on christmas gifts, specially stuck on christmas gifts for you.

again, you two only have one double period class together, and the week is full of packet after packet, nothing of a technical interaction going down. the somewhat date-y nature of your restaurant outing comforted him through the piercing manner of trigonometry, he guesses it's pretty funny.

mark's mind reverts back to the many moments of you scribbling with your pen in your notebook, the specific mini sketches you have kept placed beside your trig notations, and it becomes clear what he should get you as a gift.

when the week finally comes to a close, mark is simply glad that he's alive, glad that the information didn't all mix into mush, glad that he got a seemingly perfect gift for you.

"okay, how do you think you did?"

a scrunch of your nose is the opted response, but you don't seem any worried. "it should all be fine, i think all the information seeped into my brain".

the reply draws a chuckle, mark allowing for his head to tip downward. "you're probably the reason i passed, have some faith in yourself".

"hey, you have to give yourself some credit too, you're pretty much a genius".

mark, again, blushes. he doesn't mean for it all to shine through, he simply can't help it. you're much too sweet, even through your whispered compliments, terms shyly spilling from your lips while your head remains downturned.

it's.. cute.

you begin picking at your nails, clearing your throat. mark smiles at you; "thanks, but i really couldn't have done it without you".

you definitely want to argue with that, but your mouth plops shut, your eyes darting away. "i'm so fucking tired".

"maybe you should sleep through this break".

you giggle at that one, eyes seemingly getting heavier. "sleeping is really all i can do anyway",

mark hums, attempting to inconspicuously eye the box he carried all around the day. he pays a few glances between before taking in a huge breath, a breath which you causes the furrow of your brows. "um.. uh— okay, don't freak out".

apparently those words do a lot, as you let out possibly the loudest laugh ever since you two became friends. something about his delivery possibly, the amusement manifests in your movement, much less in your laughter. "are you gonna pull out a gun or something?"

mark frowns, true annoyance in naught. "no, i just have a gift for you and i don't—"

your laughter comes to an immediate stop, head tilting sideways, puzzled. "you.. what?"

mark blanks for a moment, the words disappearing into the air. "christmas is coming up, i uh.. you know we won't see each other during christmas, so i got you something".

you blink, dumbfounded, absolutely staggered, as if the act is terribly unheard of. you almost appear terrified, a callback to the moment where you called mark a weirdo for his regard when your knuckles were aptly split.

you're sending him one of those looks.

"why would you— did you spend your own money why would you do that?"

and there's less of disbelief there, more of guilt, guilt mark can't idly place. you shouldn't feel guilty for anything, yet you seem to. "hey, it's okay, it was all in my own will, just open it".

mark is even more excited than you, sliding the completely totally cynical box over despite your insanely watchful eye. your facial muscles twitch in desperation to display your own enthusiasm, but you somehow keep it at bay.

your fingers twitch. "what is it?"

"that would ruin the surprise".

mark is very impatient, tapping his feet incessantly, fingers again coming to repeat the act in a somewhat similar rhythm. you stare down the box, possibly hoping for it to open itself. he begins getting anxious after a moment, the less than rapid unwrapping keeping a tension in the air.

you seem to want to take your time, as if fearing as creature hidden in the box. mark places his hands in his lap, gazing endlessly.

when you finally pear into it, you again tilt your head, blinking. "holy shit".

mark snickers, that has to be a good one. "yeah".

"how did you— why did you— oh my god.."

it's simple, but mark was aware it would have the desired effect. you stare downward, completely and utterly astonished, you don't expect it, of course you don't, yet the reaction is great for mark.

you're out of words for a moment, so mark decides to take that time; "i sort of observed— i mean.. i figured you liked drawing, art, saw your notebook, saw your sketches, it seemed like the perfect gift to get you".

you blink again, simply pure devotion behind your eyes, as if you were one term from confessing your love to him. it's a art set, a cute kit consisting of colored pencils, markers, and even paintbrushes, it looks.. expensive. "how much..?"

"it doesn't matter" he cuts in, clasping his hands. "i wanted to get you something".

that should be enough.

you seem to struggle with what to say, unable to find the exact words until your lips begin trembling. "thank you, i don't know how to repay you".

"you don't have to".

a frown tugs at your lips, you clearly don't like the sound of that one. "i'll get you a gift of your own after the break, don't worry".

mark's nose scrunches, but he can't argue with you, because he really does want a gift, yearns to see what it may all add up to. he clears his own throat, hands smoothing over his thighs.

"i just wanted to get you something because—"

"i know, thank you".

he can't even help staring in the manner he does, his lips taking an upturn, eyes holding remaining regard he's always known he felt.

"it's nothing".

well, mark guesses it is something, he just has to figure out what something exactly entails.

[forgotten-contract]

voidtouched-blue--[Prior]

At this point, she didn't care about neither privacy nor comfort. As appreciative as she was for his assurances, he had already seen more from her than she was willing to share with anyone else. Bared her raw emotions to a complete stranger, all for the offer of the drink of knowledge to sate her greed. He knew more about her sorrows than the one other person she considered trustworthy. At the very least, she owed him an explanation, but only if he would ask it of her. "A promise...you shouldn't...have to make..." She breathed. Enough of her voice had returned to give her whispers a little more volume.

Her struggling form shivered and shook, quaking with each heralding step on pins of empty nerves, muscles of those clawed hands twitching with involuntary effort as each second onward seemed as graceful as a rueful beast scrabbling out of quicksand, the ball and chain of mortality twinging each taut thread of functionality that threatened to snap on an fettered whim.

Strong willed, stubborn, and beautiful in the way she denied even the concept of assistance. It was not an option despite how much the fur of her body shivered, or how her tail swayed with a stilted tick tock tick in the fragility of some false center of balance, each arc of her foot reverberating an echo as discomfort visibly spun through her jilted steps. It wasn’t easy and that was speaking lightly.

The man offered no help, only stepping into the next room to allow his guest the space to make it herself. Slowly his guard had begun to return despite the measure of ‘kindness’ that was to be had within the open bath.

Actions he could fake, the means to an end, no more connection to a history she need not learn.

Once more that coffin closed on the lies of the dead.

The room itself was as fairly ornate as any other aspect of the manor, with a trio of arched windows within the second floor being the majority of the light source in the morning he had no need for the licking flames of candles; the bath itself was a large marble construction, a raised platform of the same, a basin of white stone meticulous in its original creation. A small table at its side with a few soaps, brushes and towels of various colors - things that looked far too normal for the gore that waited in the shadows.

A few chairs lingered to one side, and slatted doors that looked like a wardrobe and a desk in a small alcove that seemed to have been built into a natural curve of the estate that connected to the other amenities expected of the room that didn’t fit their needs at the moment, all across from the walled counter that housed flourished mirrors.

It was all very… clean.

But not sterile, the scent of flowers wafting on the air as if in combat with the stagnant iron his poor guest dragged into the room on caked filth, soon the fragrance - while not overwhelming to the senses even as heightened as her own - began to give a dreamlike disconnection from the torment that had happened in nary a bell of time.

Hands clasped behind his back in that well known habit, Silvaire ignored the footprints he left as he moved to that raised tub to begin adjusting the faucets for a comfortable temperature. Folding his sleeve up on habit to avoid the water he listened to the crumpled form of the young woman as she collapsed into the room, sparing half a glance to her as she spoke before returning to the task; though he wasn’t mortal, there was nothing better than relaxation in soothing warmth, even he had to admit to that.

A chuff of mirth escaped as her whispers were almost lost beneath the gentle waterfall, the heat leveled perfect soon enough as the man responded. “I suppose it is a bit late for that, isn’t it.”

Snake-like eyes turned to her, watching for a heartbeat as she struggled beneath the weight of her own body, the soaked clothes no doubt adding more to the chains, those sharp teeth clenched with a fury reserved only to those who condemned themselves. He could recognize that.

Just as he could recognize that in her current state she wouldn’t be able to even begin healing. Though the only major wound came from those precious horns, her own claws had scraped and tore at her skin and garments to make a difference. So bringing the water to her for the single aspect wasn’t much of an option.

He’d not put this much work into a contract in years.

Just the flurry of questions that wanted for answers though seemed to add to the fine print of his enjoyment however, so the complaint was quieted for that reason alone.

“I will then, at least give you warning Cyra, I’ll be moving you to the water.” The short memory of how he had carried her in her sleep returned and it was with a stiled swallow that he knew he could do the same again. Push came to shove after all.

Obviously with her hissing instinct to the idea they were of one mind in that regard, the thrashing of that matted tail a very visible warning of her disagreement to the offer, but it was a weak movement that told him all the more that it wasn’t a choice for either of them. Even if she dragged herself head first to submerge, she would likely waste all her collected strength to break the surface of the water.

He’d break the contract if she didn’t finish her ordeal to the fullest. That was all.

Standing above her for a moment he hesitated, not due to the frail warnings, but his own hurdles that were quickly locked away within the excuse of ‘A means to an end’ and his hands drifted under her small body with ease - slow to move as if her skin were iron hot, trying to overcome the knowledge of the incoming pain of searing flesh as his fingers grazed the bare skin of her fur.

In an instant he recoiled as the flashes of something invaded his senses. Violation of a memories that were not his own, violations of the body before him, agony writ in skin and bone; a history unspoken, ghosts unseen.

Silvaire said nothing on it. Blinking quickly through the emotion that wrote atop his own - familiar feelings, recognized and once thought maimed to silence - his eyes met those shivering stars before looking away once more. It was no look of judgment, nor was it one of surprise, the scars and habits that he had noticed of his guest thus far made such a past well assumed.

The loathing of a nation that once owned him was seared into her soul, malice and anger attached to any notion of pain she had been raised to understand. These two things were one and the same, even now the man who tried to distance himself time and time again found new facts of this Keeper that continued to ply into his own self imprisonment.

His expression had been tender for that moment before his exhale brought him cold once more.

It wasn’t pity. It was an apology of shared understanding.

After those heartbeats of blanketed quiet between them as they sat closer to each other than they’d likely allowed anyone else in lengthy memory (At least in the case of the hollow lord), Silvaire closed his eyes and pulled her body against his own to pick up the shivering creature. Even within the bloodloss she felt so warm, her quaking nerves a muted howling instinct to fight him as he brought her to the prepared water.

He knew what it was to carry someone who wished to flee, holding their tongue of fears from something beyond him in their moment, knowing that he was helping with good intention. It was a universal constant no matter what banner of creed one carried, Miqo’te or Elvaan Elezen alike.

Silvaire did not hold her for long, but his release of her body was tender into the water with her tail and feet first - it didn’t matter about the clothes yet. Either way they were already clinging to her striped fur with the hold of bloodied claws, water wouldn’t do anything to hinder removal any more; he also didn’t wish to invade that without permission.

Permission was important.

Permission tasted best. That was all.

“…There.” It was a simple word, the mask of his smile light in leu of the way the pooling water along the bottom had already began to stain red, even the cascading tap that poured beside her seemed to torrent into crimson only a moment after it touched her shoulder.

He stepped back then, looking her over for a moment to make sure she could keep herself stable within the tub, already seeing the hues of aching comfort easing the shivering over her limbs, and it was only then that he noticed the habit of the sleeve from running the tap, moving his hands behind his back with that painted smile as he redid the clasps.

“You’ve lost a great deal of blood, and aether besides. Do you have any allergies?” She needed sustenance if she were to go through these trials again, or recover enough to answer his looming questions.

[jacaranda-bloom]

2022 IN WRITING

Thank you to @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed @nouies @allwaswell16 and @chai-hat-tea for tagging me to share my year in writing xx

2022 was a bit quieter for me when it came to writing, and I definitely didn’t get to everything I had planned after work and life took over for the last half of the year. That said, it’s been a good year!

1. Number of stories posted to AO3 this year: 9

2. Total word count posted to AO3 for the year: 209,410

3. List of works published this year:

Jan - Mistletoe, Memories, and Mayhem (13k)

Feb - With A Little Kindness (33k)

Mar - Love On A G String (20k)

Apr - Best Snog Ever (13k)

May - From Dust To Lust (45k)

Jul - Truebonds (40k)

Aug - Moonlight Minx (15k)

Sep - Love On Air (19k)

Oct - Under The Milky Way (11k)

More under the cut...

4. Work I’m most proud of (and why): That’s a tough one, but it would probably be Truebonds. The world building in that story was next level - super complex and new territory in terms of the ABO trope. I love writing ABO and exploring the new dynamics with nesting and scenting was really fun!

5. Work I’m least proud of (and why): Sadly, Mistletoe, Memories, and Mayhem. This was entirely my own fault, but it did finally make me realise that writing for Exchanges is just not my jam, so it’s fests or standalone fics from here on out!

6. Share or describe a favorite review you received: I received so many lovely comments and messages this year and I appreciate every single one of them. I remember reading this one though and just stopping in my tracks because it made me laugh. This is the true nature of it all, isn’t it? I mean, this is why I write, because I enjoy it. So thanks to Jill on AO3 who is always prodding me with a stick for my next story and giving me a good chuckle along the way.

Under The Milky Way: “You enjoyed that way too much Dee.” Jdickson60

7. A time when writing was really, really hard: Work really took over a lot of my normally free time in the second half of this year, which was frustrating, but something that couldn’t be avoided. Then, once it eased off, my rhythm of writing every day was in disarray, so it took a while to get back into it. 

8. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Louis’ Omega character in Truebonds didn’t end up where I had envisioned. In the original story, he was far more subdued, but then once I started writing it, that went out the window and with it, a lot of the plot. I’m really happy with how he turned out though.

9. A favorite excerpt of your writing: From Dust To Lust (this is stupidly long - apologies - but I just loved their banter in this fic)

Harry twists around in his seat. “Ooohhh, you’re one of those people?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“A control freak.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“It’s fine. I’m just more of an adventure seeker. Like to let the road unfold before me and enjoy the journey.”

Louis’ blood boils in his veins. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? He’s about to rain hellfire down on him when he catches the glint in Harry’s eyes. Cheeky, fucking, shit. He fixes Harry with a challenging stare. “Oh yeah? Care to explain your behaviour back in the departure lounge then?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Harry asks faux-innocently.

“I mean, you’re full of shit. You’re just as much of a planner as I am.”

“How do you figure that?”

Louis narrows his eyes. “There were, what, seventy people in that lounge? And yet you and I were the only ones to work out what was really going on, what the implications were going to be, and then devise a plan to get out of there. What was your process?”

The self-satisfied grin that blooms on Harry’s face is one Louis can’t help but mirror, no matter how hard he tries.

“Well, I checked the weather app, then social media, and worked out what the problem was.”

“Same,” Louis says, nodding.

“Then I checked the car park and realised-”

“There was only one rental car left.”

“Yeah. Clocked you from across the room and assumed you’d made the same deduction, but I didn’t want to create a scene or a stampede, so I just hoped I could beat you to the rental desk.”

“Hmmm… shame for you that those stupidly long legs couldn’t carry you there a bit quicker.”

“Shame for you that your arse couldn’t bounce you over faster too.”

“Oi!”

Harry’s grin turns up into a full-on smirk. “Anyway, I thought we could just get on the road and sort out the other stuff as we went along. That’s the advantage of having two people in the car.”

Louis huffs out a breath and turns to look out of the open passenger window, trying to hide his own smirk and the hint of a blush he doesn’t think could be reasonably excused by the warm weather. “Yeah. Whatever. Let’s go, Harold.”

“It’s just Harry, actually.”

“Of course it is, Harold.”

10. How did you grow as a writer this year: I was so terrified that I wouldn’t get my mojo back after I’d had to take a break due to work commitments, and it did take longer than I thought it would, but I learned that if I trust myself I’ll always find my way back.

11. How do you hope to grow next year: The story I’m going to be writing for the next few months for Big Bang is a tough one. Louis is blind for the majority of the fic and that has presented some real challenges in terms of my writing style. I usually use visual descriptions to set the scenes, but that isn’t possible here, so I’m learning how do that in other ways. I’m interested in how that will come across to the reader and whether it will be at all successful.

12. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): I’m so grateful for everyone who has a positive influence on my writing, especially all the lovely writers on discord, but I’d like to give a special shoutout to @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed @evilovesyou and @lululawrence for being so supportive and sprinting with me throughout the year and, of course, my amazing beta @parmahamlarrie who is always there cheering me on and giving so much of her precious time to polishing my ramblings xx

13. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: So, so much. I really doubled-down on the whole Australian thing this year. 6 of my 9 fics were set in Australia and I absolutely adored sharing locations and experiences I’ve had with everyone. There will definitely be more of this in 2023!

14. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Listen to the characters and let them take you where they want to go!

15. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: Two in particular. My Advent Fic that didn’t end up happening this year that I will be writing for Christmas 2023, which is called 7 Decembers, you can read a bit more about it here! Also, my pack ABO fic called Unbonded, which you can read more about here!

16. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read: I’m not sure who has done this so far, but I’ll tag @kingsofeverything @zanniscaramouche @louandhazaf @evilovesyou @alwaysxlarrie @parmahamlarrie @bananaheathen @lululawrence @beanno28 @haztobegood @neondiamond @disgruntledkittenface @beelou and @justalarryblog if they’d like to share xx

[prowlspaparazzi]

That Dreadwing fic was amazing 🥺♥️!! Could you do something similar with wheeljack and/or starscream?

yo i got this ask on aug 6th and its the 31st im so sorry this is so late qwq hence why i call them “suggestions” and not “requests” cuz idk if im gonna even FOCKIN write. I only wrote it with Wheeljack for now but I may do Starscream (just a dif universe Starscream) at another time. wheeljack DOES call reader doll in this and that's like the ONLY implication of the reader being “femme” I try to write my readers as gn as possible but I couldn’t see Wheeljack calling his s/o any other nickname doll is just too perf. 

ANYWAYS. roll film. no tws there's no vomit like last time.

word count: 1,158

TFP!Wheeljack x sick!(kinda)femme!reader

You struggled to hoist yourself up on the passenger seat of Wheeljack's ship. A little more than usual, which was odd. You pushed the thought from your mind as you looked out the front window.

"Another energon mine?" You asked.

"Yep. Gotta mark this one on the map for later use." Wheeljack answered, punching in some buttons on the side.

"Y'know...I'm down to steal a cube of energon from one of these places for you." You commented, turning to face him.

He continued inputting coordinates. "Heists are pretty dangerous, doll. Sure you're up for it?" Wheeljack asked. He was worried about you getting captured, but he wasn't a controlling lover by any means.

You were about to assure him, when a gust of wind picked up outside, causing the ship to tilt slightly. Wheeljack was quick to steady it but you, not so much. You shifted your stance to catch yourself but unfortunately, your knees gave out causing you to land with an 'oomph!' on the large metal seat you stood on.

You tried to laugh it off but were thrown into a string of nasty coughs. You covered your mouth to catch any germs and phlegm and turned away from Wheeljack, preoccupied with this coughing fit.

"You alright, doll?" Wheeljack asked with concern.

"Ugh. I don't feel alright." You answered after you were done. The familiar and indescribable feeling of malaise began to settle in your body. You were tired before sure, but after that coughing fit, you were now exhausted.  Your body began to ache and your arms felt weak.

"Hm. Better get you to the Autobot base. The other humans will know what to do." Slowly, the ship lifted and began to soar through the air.

You wanted to retort and say you could take care of this yourself, but instead, you resigned to rolling your eyes and laying down in the passenger seat.

-

After a quick WebMD diagnosis from Jack, Raf, and Miko, you all reached a consensus. You had the flu.

"I know I'm sick and everything, but do I really have to be in the hospital bed the whole time?" You spoke out loud to Wheeljack once the base had emptied out.

"Makes me think the flu is a lot worse than it probably is," Wheeljack responded, masking his worry. He had yet to familiarize himself with common human occurrences like annual illnesses.

"Trust me it's not. Lasts for a week, tops. As long as I take care of myself, that is." You reassured him, changing the position of the damp towel on your forehead. You unknowingly sighed in frustration.

"Something else on your mind? Other than that rag?" Wheeljack asked.

You shook your head absentmindedly. "It's just... I hate that this is happening right now. Like it couldn't wait? I just absolutely HAD to get sick right as I'm suggesting a way for me to contribute?"

"Contribute?"

"Well- I mean- Like I-" You stammered a bit. "I mean, I was hoping to do a tiny little energon heist as a way to be helpful to you... Sometimes I..." You stalled, afraid to put your strife into words.

With a bitter and defeated sigh, you continued. "Sometimes I feel guilty for not contributing and helping you. Sure I'll go in and take pics and record stuff but I get this feeling I should be doing more for you."

"____, you don't need to do more." Wheeljack seemed sad as he spoke. It hurt him to see you put so much weight on yourself.

"But I want to." You rebutted.

"It wouldn't be fair of me or anyone else to put that pressure on you. So don't go doing it to yourself. Having you around is all the help I need from you. You and your pretty doll eyes remind me why I keep fighting those 'cons. The only thing I expect of you is just..." Wheeljack lifted one of his hands to graze the side of your face. His metal digit was rigid and scratched up from over the years of fighting and tinkering, yet he was so gentle with you.

"Stay with me for as long as you want. And stay being my doll." Wheeljack's expression softened into a gentle smile, with lovesick eyes that met yours. The bitter feeling in your chest bloomed into a giddy, shy feeling. You hid your face in your hands in embarrassment, hiding your reddened face.

Wheeljack scoffed at you endearingly. "Geez, you got me all soft now like the other bots." He quickly glanced behind him to check for any others. After making sure the coast was clear he began to mass shift into a smaller form, easier to hug and kiss.

One of his servos wrapped around your torso, while the other one gently pulled your hands away from your face.

"When you get better we can still do that heist if you really want to. For the purposes of having fun and ticking off the 'cons, of course." Wheeljack met your eyes with that oh-so-familiar gleam of excitement.

"You make me feel better already." You spoke just above a whisper, your face inches from his. He smiled in response, his spark fluttering from holding you so close.

"Well not really. I still feel congested but... Y'know what I mean." You chuckled and Wheeljack laughed as well. You met his gaze and spoke again. "I'm sorry that our adventures are put on hold because of me." You smiled sadly at him.

Wheeljack shrugged. " It's not your fault. Plus, a rest stop doesn't hurt every once in a while. We can watch some of those movies you're always talking about as you get better. Just rest up and stay cozy for me."

"Oh wait there's actually a movie I've been wanting you to watch!" You squirmed out of Wheeljack's grasp and grabbed your laptop from your bag. The laptop landed with a soft plop on the hospital bed and you started typing in your password.

Wheeljack faced the screen but watched you during the entire process. You probably didn't realize the grip you had over his spark, and your quiet mumbles as you guided through web pages were so cute. He was in love, with you, and every detail of you.

Little did he know, you could see his lovesick eyes staring at you through the reflection of the laptop screen. On impulse, you turned your head and gave him a quick peck on the lips and turned your head back to the screen.

"There it is. Ok, I'm gonna press play." You spoke and you scooted over to give Wheeljack some room to sit. He opted to instead lift you up and sit you down in front of him.

"How's this?" Wheeljack asked. His voice was low and close to your ear. You knew he was doing this on purpose and you almost wanted to scoff at him. You decided to lean back into him.

"This is nice." You answered, a smile on your face.

"Yeah. It is." He replied.

[thefanbasewhore]

2k writing challenge celebration!!!

First of all, I am so thankful for all my friends/supporters that have helped me get to this point. Love you guys 💞 I am so, so grateful.

Rules:

There will be no assigned prompts/scenerios, please do how many and what what wants you want!

There is no minimum and maximum word count, but if it is more then 500 words, please use the 'Read more' feature.

Absolutely no fics involing minors and I ask, please do not interact unless you are 18+

Tag me in your fic and also tag it #skys2kchallenge and send me a message/ask just to make sure I saw it :)

Please include any triggers and content warning.

Feel free to use any character you want!!!

Everyone is encouraged to participate! I will read every single one!!!

A masterlist will be made for this challenge for everyone else has the chance to read your fics

Due date is Aug 31st 😘

Characters I mostly write for: any Sebastian stan characters, Chris Evan characters, Pedro Pascal characters (pretty much every character they portray) & Sam Wilson

Tropes

FEEL FREE TO ADD SMUT, ANGST OR FLUFF TO ANY OF THESE!

Bonded: Character A and B have bonded since birth but Character A does not want the type of life Character B wants.

Royalty: Character A is a king who has fallen in love with Character B, a servent.

Friends to lovers: Character A and B have been unseperable from the day they've become friends, what happens when Character A suddenly realizes they love Character B?

Enemies to lovers: Character A and Character B hate each other or so they thought..

There's only one bed: Character A and Character B go away (for a mission/work) but realize there's only one bed.

Huddling for warmth: Character A and Character B huddle/hold each other to keep warm.

Fake bf/gf: Character A has a wedding to attend soon and he needs a date. Character B pretends to be their fake bf/gf but what happens when it's all over but feels like it shouldn't be?

I care: Character A almost dies and Character B realizes they love them.

Sex Pollen: Character A is sprayed with sex pollen and Character B is the only one around to help them.

Arranged Marriage: Character A and Character B are arranged to be married (you pick weather they want to or not).

Body Guard: Character A is hired to protect Character B but end up falling for each other.

Love at first sight: In a reality where soulmates unlock color with every emotion they feel toward their soulmate (I have a series coming out soon)

Coffee shop: Character A meets Character B and falls madly in love with them.

Prompts - can be fluff, angst, smut :)

"Then don't talk to me!" / "Fine!" / "Fine!"

"You look so good."

"You sound so sweet, honey."

"How could you say that to me?"

"We were cursed from the beginning, how did we ever think this would work?"

"You cheated on me! You have no right being here."

"I need a place to stay."

"You said you'd never leave, you lied!"

"Why can't you just come out and say it?" - "Say what?!" - "That you love me."

"I wish I never met you."

"I just wanna cuddle, honey."

"You're my everything."

"Without you, I'm nothing."

"Stop hogging the bed!"

"What a pretty pussy."

"I want to hear you moan, honey."

"Are you going to be a good girl?"

"Suck it."

"Bad girls don't get what they want."

"Spank me."

"Beg for it."

"I love you but that's the exact reason I have to leave."

"Marry me?"

"Can we at least sleep on the same bed?"

"Let me help you."

No pressure, just tagging people who might be interested below:

@fuckandfluff @sweeterthanthis @babycap @wkemeup @sableseb @buckysbrattybug @ritesofreverie @buppybucky @mickey-henry @midnightf @wnterwidows @certainaesthetic @blackberrybucky @buckysglow @buckysbiota @belowva @bvckysmoon @bucksbestgirl @babycap @winter-james @bucksfucks @gwenavibra @buckyblues @

[lovely-maryj]

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. kageyama, hq!!

synopsis: ❝ In a field of dandelions was when I first held you. ❞ pairing: kageyama tobio x reader warnings: one-time use of the word ‘bastard’, no third person pronouns used for mc, mc is called ‘shortie’ once word count: ~1.4k note: Hello! Hopefully, you guys enjoy this! This is just a one-shot I had to write for my English class last year. Of course, I changed the names up. No way am I gonna submit this unfiltered. It would've been so obvious if I kept the names just like this, lol. I checked and apparently, I wrote this on October 27 last year. I forgot I had this on my drive somewhere. This is also the first story I posted that I'm never going to delete. (I wrote a Harry Potter fanfic a few years ago on Wattpad, and it was doing quite well for my first story, but I got writer's block and was kind of exiting the fandom so I didn't have motivation for it. It's gone now, lol. 'Twas a shame. I gained quite a few followers from that.) Anyways, this is crossposted on my Quotev and Wattpad accounts, too. Click on the links to read it over there. I'll update this again if I ever decide to post it on Ao3. If it's on there or any other site without me updating this, that is plagiarism. If it ever happens, please inform me and I'll have a nice little chat with whoever posted my story :) The same goes for the poem I wrote. I’m still quite proud of it so don’t use it without my explicit permission. likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! ^^ Edit (8 Aug 2022, 12:35 PM, GMT+8): I have now posted this one-shot on AO3!

Just a few minutes ago, I found a small dandelion on a crack on a sidewalk—that I definitely did not almost trip on—and now I was just cradling it in my hands while I skipped home. Okay, maybe I wasn’t skipping. That's just childish and I am by no means a child.

... was that even the least bit believable?

Maybe this is why Kei always likes to make fun of me.

Not looking at where I was going—what a huge mistake that was—I accidentally bumped into a person that I definitely could've mistaken for a wall.

Grunting, I tried to steady myself but the person's hands were already on my shoulders.

"Oh~? No wonder I didn't see you. It’s you, shortie."

Ignoring the comment on my (admittedly) short stature, my eyes widened in surprise at the very familiar voice, and I quickly looked up and shrugged off the person's hands off my shoulders.

Great. Just great. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Kei!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

He just raised an eyebrow at me. “Isn’t it obvious?” He sarcastically said. “I’m walking home.”

Now, it was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “Uh ... don’t you live on the other side of town?”

A sheen of sweat dripped down from his forehead. “I—uh—Kageyama needed me for something.”

“Tobio needed you,” I said in disbelief while pointing at him.

A vein on his temple started bulging. He smacked my hand away and he said, “Why is that so hard to believe?”

Simply because it’s Tobio and you? I didn’t want to get into another argument with him so I simply changed the subject. Arguments with him usually lasted for at least an hour and I’m too mentally tired to care.

“Whatever,” I said while crossing my arms. “What did he need you for?”

A smug grin suddenly appeared on his face. Oh, what I would pay to smack it off him—

“Why don’t you go home and find out? He’s waiting for you outside of your front door.” Not even waiting for me to reply, he went past me and started trekking his way home. Or maybe to Tadashi’s house. I never know with him.

Scoffing at his audacity to just walk away, I turned away from him to continue my way home. Of course, with the information that Tobio was waiting for me at my front doorstep, my pace quickened with the small dandelion still in my hand.

There is nobody here. Oh, my god—did Kei really just dupe me?! I screamed angrily inside my head.

Huffing angrily, I stomped towards my front door to get inside when I felt something crinkle under my shoes. Looking down, I saw a lavender envelope. Picking it up and turning it over, I saw ‘Open me~♡’ written on the back of it in Tobio’s cute handwriting. With my eyebrows furrowed in confusion, I opened the envelope and found two letters. One written on a plain piece of paper, and the other written in my favorite stationery. Tilting my head, I just decided to read the one on plain paper since it was the one on top.

“Hello, love. If you found this, that means that that bastard—” Okay, that’s got to be Kei. “—actually managed to get you home without you getting distracted.” I nodded my head at that. ‘Twas a valid concern. God knows how many times I got sidetracked and distracted whenever I was on my own. “In the other letter, I wrote a short ... something. Don’t make fun of me, please. With love, Tobio.”

A short something? Wondering what that something was, I hurriedly took out the other letter.

“In a field of dandelions was when I first held you In my arms, with feelings so true In that meadow with the sky so blue You had me wrapped around your finger while you had no clue

From the wide piece of land, I plucked a single dandelion into my hand I made a thousand wishes that day That you might somehow feel the same way.”

I stopped reading after that last line. My mouth was wide open for I was in extreme disbelief. I couldn’t believe that Tobio—my Tobio—would write something as sweet as that. He was usually the awkward one in the relationship and I was the one that initiates all the affection. Connecting with people was definitely not one of his strong suits, so seeing him put so much effort into writing a short, sweet poem definitely almost made my heart burst out of my chest. Smiling softly, I turned the paper around and found one last stanza.

“Find me in the first line and you’ll never regret That day you agreed to become mine, you had our destinies set So with hope in my heart, you’ll find your way To where it all began with that sweet smile on your face.”

I blinked slowly in confusion. ‘Find me in the first line?’ Did he mean the first line of the poem? Is he asking me to find him in a field of dandelions? But there are tons of them here. I tilted my head to the side. That day I agreed to become his … He asked me to be his lover after one of his volleyball games, though, so it couldn’t be that. ‘To where it all began.’ Did he mean when he confessed his feelings for me? 

My eyes widened in realization. If it was possible, a lit lightbulb definitely would’ve been seen over my head right now. Grinning madly, I hurried over to the garage to get my bicycle.

“Hopefully I didn’t make him wait too long.”

“What ... is all this?” I gestured to my surroundings.

Tobio smiled, albeit nervously, “A picnic.”

Tobio was sitting on a picnic blanket with a basket and a cooler next to him. With the gorgeous backdrop of the meadow behind him, the dandelions all around us, and the almost clear blue sky with cirrus clouds and the sun shining, I almost thought I never woke up that morning and was dreaming all of this up.

I laughed heartedly, “Yeah, I get that,” I sat next to him and stared into his dark blue eyes, “but what’s all this for?”

He blushed a bit and looked away, “Don’t you remember what day it is?”

I tensed. What?! I’m pretty sure our first anniversary still isn’t until next month! I freaked out internally.

“I—uh,” I stammered. What do I say?!

Tobio must’ve been amused at my stuttering because he smiled and chuckled softly. “It’s the day I confessed to you. Remember? ‘To where it all began?’”

I gasped and put my hand in front of my mouth in shock, “You’re right!”

Tobio threw his head back laughing, and I smacked him on the shoulder for that. “Don’t make fun of me, Tobio!” I whined.

He calmed down. “Oh, and here,” He turned around to get something from behind his back. When he turned back around, he gave me a bouquet.

“Oh, Tobio!” I gushed and blushed, “You shouldn’t have!” I smiled giddily and took the bouquet.

The bouquet included red roses, purple lilacs, and dandelions.

I didn’t know at the time but seeing me staring admirably at the bouquet he put together himself touched his heart.

“Aha! Which reminds me!” I reached into my jacket pocket and took out the small lonesome dandelion I plucked from a random crack on a sidewalk. “It’s not as grand as your bouquet, but I saw this earlier and I remembered how you told me you came to this exact same field before we confessed to each other.”

Not even looking at it, he took it from my hands while staring fondly at me. “Do you know why I came here?”

Pursing my lips in thought, I asked why.

“People say that when you make a crane origami a thousand times and make a wish, it’ll come true. When I first heard it, I found this field and thought that if it worked on folding cranes, it’ll probably work if I blow a thousand dandelions.” He took a rose from the bouquet and put it behind my ear.

“Well, did your wish come true?”

“Do you remember the poem I wrote?” He caressed my cheek. “If you do, you’ll know.”

[druidx]

July, Aug, Sept Roundup/ WIP Whenever

What was on the Task List for June:

✅ Go on hols ✅ Continue posting applicable drafts from @Druidx into @Dru-Reads-Writblr; answering old asks & tag games. ➼ Create WIP Intros for ❌ NaNoWriMo 2017 (modern-ish au) & give real title ✅ Elowyn Investigations ❌ Alexis dalliance vs the evil of Titan & give real title ✅ Tales of the Starbound

What have I been doing?

Iceland is amazing!!!!! I had such a good time, and the landscape is so inspiring. I saw new lava, volcanos, waterfalls, thermal springs, glaciers, and columnar basalt. I ate puffin, minke whale, and so much fish and lamb. It made me want to yank out the worldbuilding for Astrya's Star and do ~something~ with it.

Denmark is now my second home. This is causing more personal problems than it should 😅 But while I was there, I was able to finish several fics that have been lounging in the WIPs folder. Turns out that when two run a house, you have more time and energy for other stuff.

In between holidays and finishing fics, I've been prodding things on Tumblr. On Sep 12 I decided to start posting my old catalog of work, using the tag #for posterity. You can read about why here.

What’s next for October?

➼ Posting drafts, answering old asks & tag games, & updating Masterposts. Tumblr admin-y stuff.

➼ Prep for NaNoWriMo. It's coming up on that time of year again, lads. I had thought I was going to write Tenguer, the joke AU I came up for the Cryptid Series, but The Ruby Falls has decided to take over instead. So, I need to:

Resurrect the WIP intro

Review my planning doc

Review my word count doc

Maybe get some more detail down about The Blades

Re-read where I was

Meal plan/ make "ready meals", ensure I have a good stock of healthy snacks

Update to the new LTS and run backups

ICYM

➼ Spiritus Alco Custodiat (TESIV: Oblivion, Modern AU), Tumblr ~ AO3 :: A jest from Jena turns swiftly sour

➼ Strawberry Fizz (TESIV: Oblivion, Modern AU), Tumblr ~ AO3 :: Martin & Baurus take a summer holiday

➼ The 'Shroom Witch (Starbound), Tumblr :: Mio, the Last Protector, visits an agaran witch for help destroying the Ruin.

➼ The Temple of the Fading Light (Starbound), Tumblr ~ AO3 :: Mio, the Last Protector, investigates an ancient temple and learns the dark secrets behind it

➼ Long Past Dawn (TESIV: Oblivion, Modern AU), Tumblr ~ AO3 :: Martin isn't fond of parties or unwanted female attention. Baurus has a solution…

➼ Per Necessitatem (TESIV: Oblivion), Tumblr ~ AO3 :: A description of Rowan performing the Dark Brotherhood's Purification Quest

➼ Rowan Hunts (TESIV: Oblivion), Tumblr ~ AO3 :: Jauffre has gone missing; Rowan hunts him down and brings him back

[kashimos-hajime]

dear... whoever | b.b.

summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries. 

WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k

a/n: written for @softbiker​ and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky​ with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!

July 31/20

Dear…

Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.

Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.

Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.

Cute.

Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.

What the hell is he even doing?

To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.

I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.

Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.

I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.

Fuck it.

Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.

.

Aug. 1/20

Dear Jane,

I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.

One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.

Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.

Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.

Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”

“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”

Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.

Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.

Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.

Eight: I think I might be in love with him.

Bye.

.

Aug. 5/20

Dear Jane,

In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.

This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.

AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.

Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.

We’ll see. I am considering it.

What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.

As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.

But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.

As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.

I think that’s it.

If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.

Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.

Okay, goodnight.

.

Aug. 7/20

Dear Jane,

Sam, James, and I went swimming.

Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.

Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.

Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.

Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.

Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.

God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.

It’s not stupid.

It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.

This sucks.

.

Aug. 11/20

The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.

.

Aug. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.

Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.

I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.

EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.

I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.

No, I’m not.

God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.

I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.

Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.

Thanks, universe.

.

Aug. 16/20

Dear Jane,

So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.

James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.

Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.

.

Aug. 19/20

Dear Jane,

What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?

James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.

I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.

I should’ve been a shrink.

At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.

See you on the plane, Jane.

.

Aug. 23/20

Dear Jane,

On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.

There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.

Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.

Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.

I don’t know.

Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.

So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?

You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.

.

Oct. 20/20

Dear Jane,

I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.

In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.

I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.

James offered to help, and he seems normal again.

Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.

In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.

It was FINE.

Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.

James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.

He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.

I said yes, to be polite.

Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.

.

Oct. 22/20

Dear Jane,

I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.

If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too. 

She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.

Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.

.

Oct. 25/20

Dear Jane,

God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.

Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.

It’s a fucking disaster.

I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)

Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.

I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.

Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.

Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.

He called me his best friend again in his latest email.

Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.

.

Nov. 1/20

Dear Jane,

Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.

I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.

It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.

Wish me luck, not that I need it.

Why do you think Tony hired me?

.

Nov. 4/20

Dear Jane.

Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.

Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.

Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.

I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.

.

Nov. 13/20

Dear Jane,

Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.

We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.

Well, glad to know this didn’t work.

.

Nov. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Guess who just got fucking shot!

ME!

Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.

James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.

He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.

Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever? 

I’ve never fallen in love before.

Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.

Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.

God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.

Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.

In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.

More on that later. I’m tired.

God, why him?

I HATE THIS.

goodnight.

.

Nov. 16/20

Dear Jane,

James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.

I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.

He said he did, too.

I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.

It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.

That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.

P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.

.

Nov. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.

I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.

It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.

Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.

.

Nov. 24/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.

James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.

He broke up with his girlfriend, too.

Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.

I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.

He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.

I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.

Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.

I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.

Girl code.

It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.

Yay, me.

.

Dec. 4/20

Dear Jane,

Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.

Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.

On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.

Might just go alone. I don’t know.

Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.

Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.

He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.

I cannot wait.

.

Dec. 12/20

Dear Jane,

I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.

Thoughts on black and gold?

I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.

James asked if we could meet up tonight.

I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.

I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.

I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.

Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.

Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.

I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.

Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.

.

Dec. 16/20

Dear Jane,

T-minus nine days until the party.

No date in sight.

Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.

Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.

.

Dec. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.

I wish I meant Sam.

Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.

Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.

He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.

Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.

Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?

Me.

Yippee.

.

Dec. 18/20

Dear Jane,

It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.

I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.

Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.

I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.

Goodnight, Jane.

.

Dec. 24/20

Dear Jane,

I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.

This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.

.

Dec. 25/20

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas! 

In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.

Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.

It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.

Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.

Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.

You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.

.

Dec. 26/20

Dear Jane,

Fuck.

P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.

.

Dec. 27/20

Dear Jane,

I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.

I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.

He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.

Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.

God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just

It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.

Best Christmas ever.

.

Dec. 28/20

Dear Jane,

I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.

Love at first meeting isn’t real.

Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.

.

Dec. 29/20

Dear Jane,

It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?

Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.

He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.

This is perfect.

I think I really am IN love with him.

.

Jan. 1/21

You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?

WELL THEN.

Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.

See you when I’m not hungover.

.

Jan. 5/21

Dear Jane,

I’m finally stable enough to write.

In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.

Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.

Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.

He just said love’s tough sometimes.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I’m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.

.

Jan. 6/21

Dear Jane,

James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.

I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?

I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.

It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.

Maybe it’s something to do with me.

I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.

.

Jan. 6/21

He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.

I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.

.

Jan. 9/21

Dear Jane,

He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.

I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.

It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.

Shit.

.

Jan. 14/21

Dear Jane,

Switzerland is lovely.

No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.

No other comment.

.

Jan. 21/21

Dear Jane,

I lasted all of a week.

Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.

I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.

Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.

He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”

I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.

I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.

That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.

But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.

We’re going home in a few days.

I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.

.

Jan. 24/21

Dear Jane,

I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.

He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.

We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.

Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.

I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.

.

Feb. 2/21

Dear Jane,

I’m absolutely miserable.

I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.

Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?

I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.

He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.

.

Feb. 14/21

Dear Jane,

I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.

What a wretched holiday.

Yours truly.

.

Feb. 18/21

Dear Jane,

Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.

Not James.

He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.

No other observations.

.

Feb. 25/21

Dear Jane,

It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.

I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.

I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.

It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.

Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.

Again, love making me sappy and all that.

.

Feb. 28/21

Dear Jane,

Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.

I wonder if James knew that.

.

Mar. 10/21

Dear Jane,

It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.

I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.

.

Mar. 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.

Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.

.

April 1/21

James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.

James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.

Who am I to say no to celebrating?

He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.

He told me he loved me.

I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.

I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.

It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.

Or, the sickest practical joke.

Consensus not yet reached.

.

April 2/21

Dear Jane,

I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.

He did not.

Sickest practical joke confirmed.

.

April 9/21

Dear Jane,

I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.

I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.

Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.

.

May 1/21

Dear Jane,

It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.

Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.

Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.

I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.

Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.

The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.

.

May 6/21

Dear Jane,

For context, it’s 5:23AM.

Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.

We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.

We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.

He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.

I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.

I guess that means something.

.

May 17/21

Dear Jane,

In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.

.

May 22/21

Dear Jane,

Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.

I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.

That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.

She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.

I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.

Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.

Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.

.

June 3/21

Dear Jane,

It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.

It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.

Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.

And Nat is scary when not listened to.

Much to brainstorm about.

.

June 14/21

Dear Jane,

Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.

Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.

.

June 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.

So much for simplicity.

In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.

Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.

Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.

I’ll make it work somehow.

.

June 22/21

Dear Jane,

I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.

In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.

What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.

He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”

He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.

God, how am I so stupid?

.

June 25/21

Dear Jane,

I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.

I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.

I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.

I love you.

Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.

.

July 12/21

Dear Jane,

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.

James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.

There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.

Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.

I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.

The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.

It’s too quiet.

I’m so scared.

.

July 13/21

They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.

It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.

When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”

Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.

I feel sort of guilty.

It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?

I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.

.

July 14/21

Dear Jane,

James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.

I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.

He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.

Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.

.

July 18/21

Dear Jane,

We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.

I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.

I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.

He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.

I’m going to go kiss him now.

Be right back.

.

July 21/21

Dear Jane,

It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.

We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.

We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.

It feels very natural.

I am very much in love with him.

I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.

.

July 25/21

Dear Jane,

We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).

While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.

He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.

One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying.

P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.

P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.

.

July 26/21

Dear Jane,

In summary of today:

Happy birthday, Natasha.

James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.

He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.

I love him and that’s the only reason it works.

Back to the festivities.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.

Progress. Now, back to sleep.

.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.

He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.

He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.

I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.

I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Massive progress.

.

July 28/21

Dear Jane,

He told me I was the only one for him.

Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.

For a day: 10/10

.

July 31/21

Hey Jane,

I think I’m happy.

I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.

James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.

Weird, but it’s a good weird.

See you in a bit.

[freshlybakedspiderbread]

sudden late commentary on Fantastically Mundane Chain Of Love  (ffnet) because I need to get it out of my system!

last year on august, i followed this event run by @thshipweek . It offerered a bunch of prompts all week for interested creative people to do touhou ship things for, and i decided to try and use it for inspiration as well for writing a bunch of touhou fanfic. Now i just feel like talking about that process, mainly how much I like to make things harder for myself ._.

so when the prompts were revealed, showing two prompts for each of the seven days which you are ideally meant to choose one or the other depending on which days you wanna do, I for some reason decided i wanted to do all of them. As in every prompt for every day. It had been a really long time since I did any writing, so I guess I wanted to go all in as much as I could.

I pretty quickly hit upon the idea that I’d do a sort of ‘ship relay’, where one story would start with a ship, and the next would include one of the two from the previous one. This would simultaneous accomplish a bunch of things: keep myself semi-limited in scale in terms of how many characters show up, make for an interesting format, give myself a fun creative challenge.

Like a few days after the prompts were revealed on 1st Aug, I had actually already decided what the order of the ships I’d do were. The very first character to apper would be Reimu, and then using the idea of a love letter as a throughline, it would keep getting passed around and at the end it would by Yukari, who passes it back to Reimu again, bringing things full circle. I was feeling pretty good about it, and already lined up in my mind what ships would fit what prompts!

And then. On like, 15th Aug, the day before the start of the actual ship week itself, for some insane reason, I decided to throw that all way ._. You see when I started working on what would be the first chapter, i suddenly on the spot decided ‘hey wait, this is about a love letter and it would be pretty fitting for akyuu to be the one to kick things off’, and for some reason I was so into that idea that I decided to just catapault everything else I had in prepared in mind for the last two weeks. Like, the first chapter still had Reimu in it, but now that the letter was being passed to her, I had to completely rethink what all the other proceeding ships were going to be if I wanted to keep to this arbitrary format.

Basically, every chapter of Fantastically Mundane Chain Of Love? All 12 of them? I thought of them, and then wrote it on the fly, all within the span of 12-24 or so hours, and I did this for like seven or so days in a row. It was. draining on the brain >_< <_> and so unnecessarily stressful because its not like I needed to or was even managing to publish any of these right on the date after a certain point, but it’s like I Needed to get them done as soon as possible. It’s why you the word count between chapters go in such a perfect bell curve. I got more and more into it as time went on, and then exhausation and desperation kicked in, and it proceeded to dwindle n_n;;

I wouldn’t at say i’m happy with the overall result, but at least it did get me to write and do stuff during a time where i was really stuck in my own head (well, more than usual anyway). So i’m still thankful to the two mods of shipweek for that n_n

anyhow, thoughts on each individual chapter below the cut:

reimu/akyuu: memories. I really should have saved myself so much stress and stuck with my original plan but i just so suddenly found myself enarmoured with the thought of akyuu finding this chain letter and having a crisis over it. I’m pretty happy with it though. ...Also it kinda Had to go to Reimu because the only other person I could write a ship thing with Akyuu is probably Kosuzu, and I can’t think of anyone I’d write her with other than Akyuu n_n;

reimu/yuuka: summer. i think the thought of reimu caring for a plant on shrine grounds is really cute, and nobody would poke at her more about it than yuuka. I really like these two being weirdly both domineering at all times yet some coming off as being friendly.

yuuka/marisa: food. i’m also pretty happy with this one! just a cute little scene of them first being unnecessarily intense over plants, and then just enjoying a cozy meal together. so many marisa ships is kinda about her bringing out the human side of somebody whos not-so-human, isn’t it?

marisa/sakuya: wedding. this is about the point i start letting myself get too carried away, but it was fun to have a chance to dig into Sakuya being an oddball and someone else putting up with that. the situation here is kinda absurd, but sakuya’s kind of an absurd person, so it’s fine!

sakuya/sanae: surprise. I really had fun with this one. it’s basically an excuse to just write the two having a date at an arcade and getting away with it not being an AU. if there’s anyone who would get carried away with nerd games, its these two. Also, initially this chapter was much longer because halfway through, i thought of sanae using her miracle powers to try and cheat at the game and this indirectly causes the place to be set ablaze. I threw that all out and had it end a lot simpler.

I’ll say that from this point onward is where trying to shoehorn a way for the chain letter to be mentioned and then passed on became Really shoehorned. Like from this point forward, I pretty much always saved thinking about it for last, and then just haphazardly inserted it in wherever I could >_>

sanae/hina: intimacy. this is honestly just a short story where I delve into how cool I thinkHhina is, and Sanae’s just there to watch, whoops! but I do think they’d make a cute pair for real... I like to think Sanae has gotten decently acqauainted with most of the people/creatures on the mountain n_n I admit thinking about how this fits the prompt of ‘intimacy’ is a bit of a stretch, even more than the ‘surprise’ one...

hina/hatate: nature. this is about the point of the week where I felt like i was dying so I did everything in my power to reel myself back and keep these more simple. Not much to say other than I can enjoy writing a thing where  two relatively friendly characters just have a pleasant time!

hatate/nemuno: domestic. I’m really happy with this one, actually! fun fact, but before this whole thing started, I decided I really wanted to include Nemuno in because when else will i get the chance? In the original order I envisioned, i had pictured Aya being the one to run into her, and that would have been a different kind of dynamic entirely, i think. With Hatate though, this became what I consider to be a really sweet chance meeting kind of story n_n

nemuno/miyoi: hello, goodbye. even though i just said it would have been a different dynamic, i avoided having the next person nemuno passed the letter to be aya (as convenient as that would be) because i did want the pace and backdrop to be more significantly different. I don’t remember how I decided up chucking her to geidontei to meet miyoi, but i’m pretty satisfied with how it turned out.

miyoi/suika: overwhelemd. These last few ones I admit, i was kinda getting desperate to be done with it, so they are significantly more straightforward than what came before. I’m still satisfied with this one though, just a short story where Suika shows consideration to a nervous Miyoi...

suika/yukari: future. Truth be told, i spent the entire time writing this thinking not about these two and this scene, but how much i was cursing myself for not following through with my original plan. Because here i was again at yukari, but I didn’t feel like I could ‘loop back’ to reimu anymore due to the way i started this whole thing. I love folowing arbitrary rules that make things harder for myself, apparently!

merry/renko: crossover. i won’t lie, im not happy about this one... I tried my best to make it at least interesting to the collection as a whole and being a weird way to use the crossover prompt (because hifuu is technically not the same as touhou) by being both meta with the source of the letter, and also strange implacation about yukari?merry thing just from the format. But as for the actual contents of the chapter itself... I really wasn’t feeling it or putting my all into it at all. If people who read it managed to enjoy it all the same, then I’m glad! But as for my own standards... sorry renmerry, but I at least promise this won’t be the last and only thing i ever write of hifuu! >_< !

[ladyxxdaydream]

a year-in-review meme - for writers!

I thought up this writing meme for fic writers who might have been staring at the artists having their lovely and well-deserved collages of their work through the year - and wanted to join in the fun! also this works as a great reminder for those of you (and me) who’ve been thinking that they haven’t been writing as much as they want to, and allows you to go back to enjoy your old fic ;D

Rules: pick your favourite sentence from a work you posted / wrote during a month of 2020! if you didn’t write anything in any particular month, don’t worry! tell us what you were doing or use it as free space for runner-up sentences. after that, tag 8 people or more to do the meme!

That being said, here’s mine:

Tagged by: @rikacain !!

I’m tagging -- @flailinginlove @aviss @kiitsvne @stupidbadgers and @tea-blitz who doesn’t use tumblr anymore but WHATEVER. and anyone else who wants to do it! <3

~~~

JAN: (from Heavy Weight)

“Iruka felt Kakashi’s eye on him. Most people feared the Sharingan, and for good reason, but Iruka feared his real eye, his own eye. It had a way of seeing straight past Iruka’s defenses, no dōjutsu required, and deep into his soul.“

FEB: (from Old Pine)

“Do you want children?” Iruka asked, feeling like the timing was right.

Kakashi was quiet for a few moments. Iruka had learned to read Kakashi’s silences for what they were. It wasn’t hesitation like he had initially thought. Kakashi simply liked to think things through before answering immediately. Iruka liked that about him.

“I think we have four already,” Kakashi said, eyeing Sasuke, Naruto, Ino, and Sakura through the glass door.

Iruka laughed, but refrained from clarifying. He knew Kakashi understood what he meant and would answer him shortly. Iruka had also learned that Kakashi had a tendency to be indirect, before he got around to what he actually wanted to say.

MARCH: (from Mouthful)

“So, Kakashi.”  Iruka said, unable to stand still any longer.  “We both like what we see. Now what?”

 He wasn’t usually this forward, but he was feeling it tonight. All of this playful banter was riling him up—it was his favorite way to flirt.

 “I like a man whose direct,” Kakashi said, shifting his stance to lean an elbow on the table. “But hmm,” he hummed. “I don’t know.”

 He gave Iruka a seemingly bored look, as if the obvious invitation to leave together was lost on him.

 “Well, I like a man whose decisive, so I guess that rules you out.”

 Kakashi let out a hard, surprised laugh. He downed the rest of his beer, and took Iruka by the hand, pulling him out of the bar without a word.

APRIL: (from A New Chapter)

 “I don’t know how to put this,” Sakumo started, “but… what the hell is that?”

 Kakashi looked at where his Father was pointing.

 “Uh… a diaper…?” Kakashi guessed, not sure where this was going. They had about a million others, in every color and pattern you could imagine, folded and stacked in the closet. Iruka wanted to go the re-usable route, and several of his students mother’s were eager to gift them. Kakashi had been less than thrilled by the extra laundry.

“Yes. It’s a diaper, Kakashi. Very good. Tell me, did you have both eyes closed when you put it on?”

MAY: (From Cake Substitution No Jutsu)

 “What’s this?” Iruka asked as Kakashi entered the kitchen, a fully dressed Tomo whizzing past them both.

 “Ah, it’s a backpack,” Kakashi said, crossing over to Iruka excitedly. “I saw it on display in a shop window while doing Gai’s scavenger hunt. Its arms and legs are the straps, so when you wear it, it looks like it’s riding on your back.”

 Iruka smiled, turning it around in his hands, noticing the zipper and a few pockets.

 “That’s actually pretty ador—”

 Iruka stopped speaking. The tail was tightly curled up inside plastic casing still.

 “Kakashi,” Iruka said, feeling his eyebrow twitch. “Is this… is this a leash?”

 “No. It’s a Puppy Pal… with an exceptionally long tail.”

“It’s a leash,” Iruka deadpanned. “A leash for a  child.”

 “You put Tomo inside a barrier the other day as a playpen,” Kakashi said, a matter of factly. “Why can’t I have some help controlling her?”

“That’s… that’s different!” Iruka exclaimed, feeling his cheeks heat in contradiction. “Would you like it if I put  you  on a leash, Kakashi?”

 Iruka regretted it the second it came out of his mouth. He could practically see the wolfish grin forming beneath Kakashi’s mask.

JUNE: (from Use Your Imagination)

They laid in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the night through the cracked window—distant cars on the street, a lone dog barking, upbeat music wafting from a floor below them.  

Kakashi never wished for time to stop. In fact, he tried to keep himself as busy as possible—he chose a career that ate up most of his life for a reason. But right now? He wished time didn’t exist, hyperaware of how quickly it would pass before Iruka was back on a plane tomorrow.

He traced circles into Iruka’s lower back, watching as the brown skin pressed against his broke out in a wave of goosebumps. Iruka shivered, and then shifted, and Kakashi wondered if he was falling asleep.  

He selfishly continued his adorations, wanting to keep Iruka in this realm with him for a little while longer. He expanded his rake, sliding his fingers up Iruka’s spine, skirting around his scar, and back down again.

Kakashi wasn’t one to believe in divine intervention, or soulmates. He’d acted in enough corny films to almost make him hate the notion entirely. But the fact that a man as perfect as Iruka had come into his life so serendipitously—and just as scarred as he was—was something he couldn’t overlook.

It made Kakashi’s heart ache with want, before that ache traveled down, and curled into his gut.

JULY: (from Love Me As You Are)

“And then you demeaned their lives by calling them your soldiers—”

 “—is that not what they are?!” Kakashi cut across him, getting upset. “You’re as much a part of this system as I am, sensei! We both know the truth of it, whether we like it or not. I just called it by it’s name.”

“But they’re people too, Kakashi! Kids. They’re so much more than soldiers…”

“That’s not how I was treated,” Kakashi said before he could catch himself.

 Iruka’s mouth fell open with a punched sound.

 “Kakashi…”

 His tone was soft and free of the anger it held a moment ago.

 “Forget I said that,” Kakashi said, turning away, his cheeks heating up—the last thing he wanted was Iruka’s pity. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No,” Iruka said, shaking his head as he took a step towards him. “I’m not going to forget you said that. It does matter because  you matter.  You deserved to have somebody stand up for you too, Kakashi. I’m so sorry Konoha failed you.”

 Kakashi’s eyes burned with tears—he bit his tongue, refusing to let them fall. Those words pierced him straight through the heart. It was everything he never knew he needed to hear.

AUG:

um I didn’t write anything this month because my wife and I separated annnd my whole life was uprooted as I moved to a different country ksjdhgkdsj

SEPT: (from I’ll Fall, If You Do)

Their relationship was going really well. There were days where Kakashi still turned him away, usually corresponding with the mornings he had therapy. It was frustrating, because Iruka just wanted to be there for him, for Kakashi to open up to him completely, but he didn’t push. He knew that would only make it worse. They didn’t fight anymore, but Iruka regularly had to correct the language Kakashi used towards himself, and sometimes it was irritating for the both  of them.

But mostly… it was amazing. Their chemistry was incredible. Electric. And not just in the bedroom—they were never far from each other, drawn in like magnets, grounded by a simple touch or brush of hands. Kakashi hadn’t even left the room twenty minutes ago, and already Iruka felt the pull.

He jumped up from his seat and went to go find him.

OCT: (From Language Gap)

Iruka glanced out the bus window, his body instinctively knowing where they were about to pass. The building was still empty twenty years later, the brick still scorched, and Iruka’s nightmares were still plagued by the fire despite not being there when it broke out. He’d been sent on a delivery on foot — one steaming container of karē udon — two blocks away. He delivered to the same old lady everyday, and she always kept him longer than necessary, pressing sweets into his palm. When he had come back, the noodle shop was aflame. In his shocked state, he distantly heard something about a grease fire, before he was whisked away by the hand by his childhood friend Asuma, living with him and his father from that day on.

Iruka sighed and stood up, making his way towards the door since his stop was next. He really wished the city would do something about the building. Every time he saw it, it made him feel oddly exposed and vulnerable, like his past was staring straight at him.

He shook his head a little and stepped off the bus.

NOV: (From Brand New Sound)

Kakashi watched in stunned silence for a moment, trying to get his heartbeat under control as color effortlessly flowed from the artist’s hand onto the brick. Whoever this was, they had sort of become one of Kakashi’s heroes. People always said meeting your heroes was never a good idea—bound to be disappointing—because it brought them down to a human level.

But that was precisely what attracted Kakashi to this artist in the first place—the sheer, raw, humanness. The way they tackled hard emotions and vulnerability, baring everything through their work for others to see. It was honest and transformative, and Kakashi spent more nights than he could ever count wandering the streets when he couldn’t sleep, hoping to catch a mural he’d never seen before it was painted over. Sometimes he did, and sometimes he’d sit in front of ones he already knew and found new meaning in them.

DEC: (from Perks of Promotion)

“But why now?” Iruka insisted. “Why ask me out now? Right after I’ve made tokubetsu jounin? When we’ve known each other for years?”

 Oh.

Kakashi paused, the realization dawning on him. He didn’t blame Iruka for being suspicious of his intentions; he’d heard the way people said ‘the chuunin sensei’ or ‘the chuunin desk worker’ like it was some kind of insult. It always pissed him off.

Kakashi stared at his feet for a moment before lifting his head again, leveling Iruka with a serious stare. “Because I didn't think I’d live past 21. Because it took me an obscenely long time to become a barely functioning adult. Because I never had the guts before… I-I still don’t, not really, if you can’t tell by how much I’m fumbling around here,” he said with a nervous laugh.

[magicianapprenticelyra]

My 2020 Tumblr Top 10

1). 194 notes - Mar 25 2020

By @alvrudart​! To date it’s one of my most favorite commissions I have ever gotten with Ly in mind. Seeing it here again makes me all warm and fuzzy.

🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 

2). 132 notes - Mar 21 2020

By @jilljoycearts​. This is Lyra as the Palace Librarian. Ahhhhhhh I can’t ever get over how serene she looks. I love it to absolute pieces.

3). 55 notes - Mar 18 2020

“One Last Time”

She remains standing, cards flying between her hands with ease, brows furrowed with concentration. Eventually, she stops, flipping over the topmost card.

“…The Fool,“ she names me.

I smile, trying to ignore the odd tingling sensations fluttering from the top of my head down to my feet.

I’ve missed her. I’ve missed her so much…

“Right you are.”

[I am not gonna lie: I am delightfully surprised to see this work in particular take the Top 10, much less Top 3. Thank you to everyone that read, reblogged, and/or liked this piece! It’s an honor to have this near and dear piece of mine make it to this list!]

4). 54 notes - Feb 1 2020

By @agent-darkbootie​. How apt that the art I have of Lyra as an old lady—albeit in the Modern AU—follow the fic in #3. The Nook slippers, her expression!!!! MUAH~!

5). 48 notes - Jan 31 2020

Q: Yes hello, question for the birthday girl: What would be (apprentice) Lyra's ideal wedding cake with each of the main six?

Ask sent in from @vesuvianoak​​/@thecrazyalaskan​​. Personally a lot of the images on it no longer are to my liking, but it makes me wonder if the devs would ever do a Wedding Tale . . .

6). 44 notes - Aug 12 2020

Another piece done by agent-darkbootie! This is Lyra at the end of Asra’s Upright Ending, complete with hat on her head and beloved familiar in her bag! Done in the wonderful Okami style, I just wanna boop her nose! Lol.

7). 37 notes - May 19 2020

this . . . is new

Lyra: “You were here!? You were here!?!?“

At this point Alex makes their way toward Lyra, who is frozen in place.

Lyra: “Noooooooooooooooo…”

Lyra: “Noooooooooooooooooooooooo…”

Lyra: “Alex for the love of everything dear to the both of us please stop talking—!”

She’s fully hidden her face behind her hands. She bemoans the fact she will never live this down…!

They gently pat her shoulders, reassuring her they wouldn’t breathe a word of this to anyone.

After a bit of back and forth, they both seal the promise with a hug and part to their separate ways: Lyra to her work, and Alex to lunch… with a private, knowing smile.

[Another one of my fics makes it to the list! Yay! XD Even more importantly, it’s Portia centric too. Everyone seems to love my pieces with her. 2021 I should write more with her then . . .]

8). 36 notes - Feb 15 2020

“PolyShips w/ the Kids! [I]”

Asra/Lyra/Muriel:

How It Happens: Honestly this is the one of the polyamorous relationships that has a high possibility of happening.

[Hải, Noor, and Iris are featured in this long headcanon post of mine with a possible polyship I could see happening with Lyra. While she isn’t explicitly polyamorous like her uncles and aunt, it could happen! This reminds me: I need to get on the other WIPs with this theme in mind, LOL]

9). 34 notes - May 17 2020

“Becoming Distinct”

The crowd disperses, save for the girl that stumbled into Asra’s booth back in January. Even as she approaches timidly, Asra’s feet dig into the dirt as he snatches his box of coins from the ground. Reflexes, he supposed.

“…is Mrs. Aster there?” she asks softly. Her tremulous voice, added with her heavy accent, confirms she was not from around here.

The last time they ran into each other, she was crying her eyes out. Asra thought it was because of the uneven haircut she had, but that was fixed. The ends were just barely touching her chin now. She had gotten new glasses too.

[This fic was a prompt from @lovelikeyoursfest​ back in May. I couldn’t complete all the prompts, but I did manage a few of them between my finals and . . . life in general, lol. One of my favorite topics within The Arcana’s lore is how Asra and MC got to know each other. In Lyra’s case, she got more interaction with him this go around versus the initial ‘falling into his merchandise stall when Nadia first comes to Vesuvia’ bit. I’m glad people read, reblogged, and/or liked this one too].

10). 33 notes - Oct 10 2020

“Finding Space and Time”

“I knew you and your family before, didn’t I?”

James is taken aback by her bluntness. He’s missed it.

“… yes,” he nods. James checks the state of her bowstring, handing it back to her. “You know how to string it?”

“Wait a minute!” Lyra sputters. “How? Why? How come—?”

“Easy Lyra …” he soothes. “Easy. Mind yer voice; getting more eyes as is.” James makes a gesture to someplace behind her with the tilt of his head.

Lyra flushes scarlet, mouth curved into a frown. In the meantime, James looks at the curious onlookers with a venomous glare. Move …

They eventually dispersed. When James is sure they’re alone, he asks her quietly, “How did you know?”

“You slipped,” Lyra chuckles wryly. “You said how I was ‘always a bright one’. I don’t remember you, sadly …”

“Asra told us about your accident,” he replies. James continues with the details: how she was trying a spell to find a cure for the Red Plague. It backfired terrifically. It had wiped her memory to the point where she was almost like an infant.

“Th’ fact Asra managed to get you back to being like an adult again in a three year span …” James exhales. “We’re … we’re indebted to him, truly.”

“Ahh … yeah,” Lyra nods, swallowing. “Asra told me that too.”

“’m sorry …”

“What are you sorry for?” Lyra looks at him quizzically.

“The fact you dealt with all that, and the episodes if you came across any one of us …“

"It wasn’t your fault,” Lyra murmurs. “We didn’t know … you didn’t know…”

James nods. “So … how do you wish to get to know us all again …?

{Last, but not the least! This is another surprise to me, to be honest. It’s one of my most recent works; I believe I did most of the reblogs but I digress. I wasn’t able to get the third of this set done in time for the new year, but if anyone was curious to see the sequel of this one, here it is: [Counting the Days]}

Lemme end by saying that 2020 was one hell of a fucking nightmare rollercoaster ride. Despite it, we’re all still here and doing our best. My heart goes out to everyone, and I wish you all a better 2021.

Created by TumblrTop10

[keepyourpantsongohan]

Kakashi & Da Boyz: Lab Updates

Introduction

Approximately two years ago, I wrote this pairing lab report which compared Kakashi’s manga interactions with his top five AO3 pairings (excluding sensei/student and original character pairings). Since the numbers have shifted a lot for AO3, here’s what they look like in 2020. 

Materials

2018 Lab Report Data

A vague understanding of how math works 

A slowly dwindling grip on my own life

Methods 

See prior work for methods on manga interaction count as published in Keepyourpantsongohan, 2018. 

It is worth nothing in this section why AO3 was chosen rather than FF.net or any other fanfiction website as a point of comparison: AO3 has the ability to filter character relationships by romantic pairings. While FF.net has developed this filter in recent years, its history and use is much more sporadic and would be unlikely to produce a representative sample. 

Data

See prior work for raw data of manga interactions as published in Keepyourpantsongohan, 2018. Only total interactions are included as a comparison point. 

Total Interactions with Kakashi 

Iruka: 4

Obito: 37

*Obito’s interactions with Kakashi under an assumed identity as Tobi: 11

*Total (if including Tobi): 48

Gai: 50

Yamato: 29

Itachi: 6

Total Number of Interactions for Any Pairings Listed Above: 126

*Total: If including Tobi: 137

AO3 Pairing Story Count (as of 08-June-2020)

Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka: 3,453

Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito: 1,808

Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai: 888

Hatake Kakashi/Yamato | Tenzou: 669

Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Itachi: 151

Total Number of AO3 Stories for Any Pairings Listed Above: 6,969

Analysis 

Figure 1: All Pairing Interactions by Percentage (exc. Tobi) 

Figure 1 Numbers:

Iruka: 3.2%

Obito: 29.3%

Gai: 39.7%

Yamato: 23.0%

Itachi: 4.8%

Figure 2: All Pairing Interactions by Percentage (inc. Tobi)

Figure 2 Numbers:

Iruka: 2.9%

Obito: 35.0%

Gai: 36.5%

Yamato: 21.2%

Itachi: 4.4%

Figure 3: AO3 Pairing Stories by Percentage (as of 08-June-2020)

(Note: Figures 2 and 3 marginally exceed 100% in order to both round and maintain the same degree of accuracy as the previous chart. For Figure 3, all figures will be rounded down to control the excess of 100%.)

Figure 3 Numbers:

Iruka: 49.5% = ~49.0%

Obito: 29.5% = ~29.0%

Gai: 12.7% = ~12.0%

Yamato: 9.6% = ~9.0%

Itachi: 2.2% = ~2.0%

Percentage Difference from Manga Interactions (Fig. 1 Numbers) to AO3 (Fig. 3 Numbers raw data)

Iruka: +46.3%

Obito: +0.2% (or Fig. 2 inc. Tobi: -5.5%)

Gai: -27.0%

Yamato: -13.6%

Itachi: 2.6%

Figure 4: Annual Rate of Growth in Fics from Aug 2018 to June 2020

Overall Increase in Fics on AO3 Since 2018 (Npast - Npresent)

Iruka: 3,453 - 2,298 = 1,155

Obito: 1,808 -  667 = 1,141

Gai: 888 - 391 = 497

Yamato: 669 - 371 = 298

Itachi: 151 - 111 = 40

Annual Rate of Growth (((Npresent - Npast) / Npast x 100) / Number of years) 

Iruka: ((1,155) / 2,298 x 100) / 2 years = 25.1%

Obito: ((1,141) / 667 x 100) / 2 years = 85.5% 

Gai: ((497) / 391 x 100) / 2 years = 63.5%

Yamato: ((298) / 371 x 100) / 2 years = 40.1%

Itachi: ((40) / 111 x 100) / 2 years = 18.0%

Conclusion

As compared to the 2018 analysis, Iruka, Obito and Gai all got closer to proportionally matching up with their manga interactions, though this is most significant for Obito, who is nearly on par with his manga interaction percentages. In other words, Obito is almost exactly as popular as you might expect him to be based on number of chapter appearances interacting with Kakashi. The annual rate of growth for Obito (85.5%) is also by far the highest. I would be curious to know what factors made this increase so high. 

Iruka, like in 2018, is most prevalent as a pairing, and furthest from manga parity (in the positive direction). It is worth noting that the pairing no longer represents the majority in Kakashi’s top five pairings, going from representing 56.7% of fics, to 49.5% of fics. This seems to be a consequence of the rate of growth, because while there were the largest number of fics for Iruka in the past two years (1,155), there was also the second lowest annual growth rate at 25.1%. Even so, the raw numbers do speak to the popularity!

Gai has moved slightly closer to manga parity, with a 2.5% increase in representation. However, the pairing still experiences the largest percentage decrease in presence from manga to AO3. Still, the rate of growth for Gai is significant, being the second highest at 63.5%.

Yamato moved slightly farther away from manga parity, but only by a difference of 0.3%, which means the pairing has more less maintained the same level of popularity as two years ago. The rate of growth is middling, not anywhere near as high as Obito or Gai, but significantly higher than Iruka or Itachi. 

Itachi was as almost close to manga parity as possible in 2018, so the pairing will likely only get further away with more fics being written. But as there have been such a small amount written (20 per year) it would be a slow increase in discrepancy. 

Having acquainted myself with the commentary on the prior report, it might be theorized that “attractiveness” is a factor in popularity of character ships. However, this premise is flawed, because in my experience as a reader, the act of loving a character makes them handsome. See: The Once-ler phenomenon, as described by Ed Helms on Funny or Die (Fealasy 2012):

“I heard there are people who have a sexual predilection for my character in the Lorax [...] And that is very odd, because he’s not a real person. I do agree, however, that he’s extremely sexy. But I don’t condone sexual fantasy about the Once-ler. I don’t condone it.”

So in this case, we can assume attractiveness is a relative condition, superseded by the way that readers choose to love their characters. Personally, I think it’s very sexy of me to love Tenzo. All this to say, don’t worry about it. Who cares? I just made you read a quote about people wanting to have sex with the Once-ler. Think about that. 

The number of fics at the time of my making these charts was 6,969 though, so I think we’re all winners here. 

Limitations 

As I used the manga interaction counts from 2018, bias in my methodology then is still present here. 

In my original calculations, I actually had Obito at 35.8% instead of 35.0% for Figure 2, in a case of human error of inputting 49/137 instead of 48/137 in my calculations. This error has been noted and changed, but the potential for more human error is present in all of my calculations. 

I am aware of there being an event going on for Kakashi and Iruka as I write this, so it is possible that by the time this data is analyzed the number of AO3 fics will have increased. 

I will reiterate that I exclude sensei/student pairings (Sakura and Naruto being two of Kakashi’s top five pairings on AO3 in general; currently third and fourth respectively) because of my own discomfort and the fact I am making a comparison with their manga interactions, which take place when both students are 12-16 and Kakashi is 26-30. Minato would currently be the next highest after original characters, excluded for similar reasons. I also include Itachi with reluctance due to their age gap, but as he is at the very least 18 when returns to Konoha to speak to Kakashi, and he is the next highest in Kakashi pairings, he acts as the fifth pairing. So, in short: I am most certainly biased in what I included and excluded in my 2018 and 2020 data. 

Again, this analysis does not examine a number of variables, like the Naruto anime and ongoing sequel anime, other types of pairing content, etc. But it’s still very interesting to see the tide of fic on AO3. I would like to look at the anime specifically at some point, but this was already an incredible waste of time. 

Seriously, why would you read this? Why would I write this? Are we human, or are we dancer? We will never know. 

Literature Cited

Keepyourpantsongohan. (2018, Aug 19). Kakashi & Da Boyz: A Lab Report. Tumblr. https://keepyourpantsongohan.tumblr.com/post/177174079767/kakashi-da-boyz-a-lab-report

Fealasy. (2012, April 26). Once-ler. Know Your Meme. https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/once-ler

[dallanebbia]

betsubara

title: betsubara fandom: bnha pariring: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 3.9k (including text in posts) warnings: none synopsis: in which the u.a. test kitchen tries its hand at the whole youtube thing, and the internet collectively ships kacchako. bon appetit test kitchen au + socmed au notes: written for day 3 of kacchako week 2020, with the prompt ‘desserts & sweets.’ i know that BA has its share of problems, but i really wanted to write this after stumbling across ba test kitchen fanfics on ao3 and some social media aus on twitter… i have so much respect for people who make smau fics, i don’t know how you do it. ochako here is a bizarre mix of brad leone, solha el-waylly, liziqi and emmymadeinjapan, and bakguou…. is bakugou :’) ao3: [link]

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

別腹 | betsubara (n.) – Japanese, second stomach for dessert

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

Susan Anderson @susan.anderson – Jun 29, 2XXX My grandchildren said I would enjoy watching the UA test kitchen youtube channel, but I don’t know where to start. Can someone please give me some suggestions? Why do they change chefs in every video? 62 🗨️   133 ⭮   869k ♡

...

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Replying to @susan.anderson Hi Susan! I’m the kitchen manager for @ua_testkitchen, and I’d be happy to help! We have playlists for each of our web series on our YouTube channel, but I’ll do my best to explain each series below. 23 🗨️   241 ⭮   3.2k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Hot Takes – If you don’t mind some occasional foul language, this is a very popular series! Chef @bakugoukatsuki demonstrates techniques on how to make Japanese staples, from omurice to hand cut soba. It’s extremely educational! 123 🗨️   213 ⭮   3.5k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Bon Appetit – This series is all about French food, with Japanese twist! Chef @foreversparkling breaks down intimidating recipes like souffles, gougeres, and quiches for the amateur cook to try at home! 89 🗨️   165 ⭮   2.8k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Farm to Table – If you’re interested in where your food comes from, this is a great choice! Chef @u_ochako shows viewers what it takes to grow and cultivate ingredients. She also delves into the science behind making things like kombucha, natto, and beer! 155 🗨️   188 ⭮   3.9k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX From Scratch – This is our only series with two hosts! We ask our chefs @shouto and @yaomomo to tackle the challenge of recreating popular junk food and snack items entirely from scratch. These can be anything, from your favorite candy to foreign staples like Twinkies! 102 🗨️   288 ⭮   2.7k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX 10 Chefs – This series asks ten of our @ua_testkitchen chefs to undergo a series of culinary challenges of varying difficulties. These can range from cutting a durian to cooking a live lobster! 48 🗨️   85 ⭮   1.4k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX The Great U.A. Bake Off – These are special videos that showcase U.A.’s biannual dessert competition! We invite renowned chef and television star @AllMight to join as our host and judge. Our resident pastry chef @satousugarman has held the title for the past four years! 99 🗨️   174 ⭮   2.1k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX We also film various instructional videos, which are not part of any particular series. These can be recipes or in-depth guides to various kitchen tools and appliances. Hopefully these give you a good place to start, and feel free to contact me if you have any other questions! 21 🗨️   98 ⭮   1.1k ♡

...

↳ Susan Anderson @susan.anderson – Jul 01, 2XXX Thank you, Mr. Midoriya. I started watching Farm to Table, and I’m enjoying it a lot. I do have a question – I’m reading the comments, and there’s a cooking term I’m not familiar with. What is a “kacchako?” Is it a cooking appliance? 721 🗨️   2.1k ⭮   8.9k ♡

...

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jul 02, 2XXX Replying to @susan.anderson … Um. 202 🗨️   4.3k ⭮   10.4k ♡

↳ jfc they’re actually clueless @hitoshinsou – Jul 02, 2XXX Replying to @susan.anderson and @dekiru yeah @dekiru, what is a kacchako? 180 🗨️   961 ⭮   2.9k ♡

… 331 more replies

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

“Hey guys!” Uraraka waved cheerfully at the camera. “My name is Uraraka Ochako, and welcome back to Farm to Table, a show where we explore where our food comes from!” 

“For today’s episode, we’re going to be doing something a liiittle different.” On the counter was a pile of misshapen brown lumps, mottled with different black and brown spots. “On our cacao episode, a lot of you were a little… shall we say, disappointed with me, when I didn’t make chocolate out of a cacao pod.”

Uraraka’s smile turned icy, as a screenshot popped up on screen. She held up a little slip of paper from her hand and cleared her voice.

“ ‘Making chocolate isn’t easy,’ ” she read, widening her eyes for emphasis. “ ‘This girl has no idea what she’s talking about.’ ”

The dark, saccharine expression on her face never faltered as she ripped up the paper into tiny pieces, throwing bits over her shoulder.

“Now, I’m here to show you that actually, yes – making chocolate can be easy!” The hard smile was replaced by a warm grin. “My friends at Tokyo Cacao sent me some pods to work with, and lucky for us, they’re ripe and ready to go!” 

She beamed, picking up a pod and showing it off to the camera. “I’ll show you guys how to turn these bad boys into chocolate - and after that, I’m gonna share one of my favorite chocolate recipes with you!” 

Uraraka then grinned mischievously. “First things first – we gotta crack this little guy open.” Reaching under the countertop, she whipped out a gigantic chef’s knife. It was easily as long as Uraraka’s forearm, and the polished blade was engraved with two characters that clearly read, ‘Bakugou.’

A choking sound was heard off screen. 

“Holy shit Uraraka, you took it?!” A man popped into frame, gaping at the knife in Uraraka’s hand. “Dude, Bakugou’s been looking for that all morning - he’s going to kill you for real this time!” 

“Not if he doesn’t find out,” she said seriously, fixing the blonde man with a pointed look. “You’re not going to rat me out, are you, Kaminari?” 

“And get killed in his Baku-rage? No thanks.” He shivered, staring at the knife as if it was going to attack him. “At least you’ve got a chance of surviving.”

Uraraka laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re acting like he’s going to eat you or something.” 

“You don’t know about poor Mineta,” Kaminari looked grave as he closed his eyes in a moment of silence, before scurrying out of frame. He called out, “If anyone, especially Bakubro, asks – I was never here!”  

“O… kay?... ” Uraraka blinked at the camera for a few moments and then shook her head in amusement. “Anyways, back to the topic – opening the pod! The rind is pretty thick and slippery, so be careful where you’re cutting! The best way is to set the edge of the knife in one of the grooves and give it a good whack, like this - !” 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

Pro Chef Makes Omurice | Hot Takes | U.A. Test Kitchen 3,439,062 views ･ August 29, 2XXX

To quote our favorite foul-mouthed chef: “Even a F***ing idiot can make omurice.” 

Join Bakugou Katsuki in the U.A. Test Kitchen as he makes a Japanese comfort food staple, omurice. This isn’t your average, amateur omurice omelette video - Bakugou breaks down the special tricks and techniques he uses to achieve the perfect taste, shape and texture. His recipe uses buttery chicken, fried… 

[SHOW MORE]

10,237 comments

hvf26 – 3 hours ago Japanese gordon ramsey 👍 2.7K   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 25 replies

TipTop – 2 hours ago new drinking game: take a shot every time you hear “fuck” EDIT: 13 shots in and 18 minutes left, i give up 👍 8.6K   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 93 replies

shroomaster3110 – 9 hours ago bakugou: “even a fucking idiot can make omurice” also bakugou: “veal stock, red wine, honey, tomato paste, reduce for 3 days” me: instant ramen it is 👍 749   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 8 replies

obsssd1992 – 6 hours ago hOoly fuck the sound uraraka made when she tasted it 👍 9.4K   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 155 replies

vulcanus – 3 hours ago 7:33 cracking two eggs at the same time with one hand he really be flexing on us huh 👍 233K   👎   REPLY

periperi – 10 hours ago 22:18 is it just me or does bakugou look like he’s blushing??? like, his ears are so so red 👍 5.1K   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 84 replies

dinovino44 – 7 hours ago “just fucking flip it” I blinked and that shit literally went from goo to an omelet HOW 👍 144   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 3 replies

Angela B – 8 hours ago I would love to try this but i dont want to waste 17 dozen eggs trying to make it properly 👍 3.7K   👎   REPLY ⯆ View 29 replies

─── ･ ｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

“Oh fuck, that’s good,” Bakugou groaned, mouth full as he chewed. The mango-coconut tart in front of him was dotted with swirls of candied orange peel as a garnish, but it did nothing to hide the fact that the entire thing was dusted with a liberal coating of violent red chili powder.

At his side, Uraraka beamed, sniffling a little from the pervasive scent of spice in the air. “I added some lime too, just to break up the richness – it’s not too sweet?”

“S’fucking perfect.” Bakugou scarfed down the last bite of the piece in his hand. He let out another long moan, the sound of it deep and guttural, and Uraraka’s eyes widened as she stared, her cheeks turning red. “Screw it, I’m eating this for lunch.”

“Eh?” Uraraka blinked, snapping out of her daze just as the tray was snatched from her workbench. “Wait, wait – Bakugou! Give it back, I haven’t even tasted it yet!”

“Pft, like you wouldn’t down a carton of milk after one bite,” he scoffed, holding the tart above his head and trying to fend off Uraraka with his free hand as she pulled at his arm. “Fucking get off, Uraraka, I – !”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Aug 17, 2XXX alright since some of y’all are fucking BLIND here’s a list of every bakugou x uraraka moment on the u.a. test kitchen youtube channel (a thread) 184 🗨️   5.3k ⭮   12.6k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Aug 17, 2XXX [01] the great u.a. Baking show, cheesecake: during taste tests bakugou hated every single person’s cheesecake EXCEPT uraraka’s peach and plum one. He said it was acceptable BUT THEN HE GOES BACK FOR ANOTHER PIECE 2 🗨️   229 ⭮   10.4k ♡

…

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Oct 28, 2XXX [33] farm to table, jicama/watermelon: bakugou says there isn’t enough heat in the dipping sauce during taste tests, uraraka then pulls out the extra spicy version she made just for him and bakugou looks flabbergasted when he tries it and then HE TAKES THE SAUCE HOME 10 🗨️   121 ⭮   2.4k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Nov 01, 2XXX [34] from scratch, shrimp chips: at 14:53 you can see bakugou and uraraka in the background working on something together and when aoyama comes in waving around a whisk like a madman bakugou PUTS HIS ARM AROUND HER WAIST AND PULLS HER OUT OF THE WAY 15 🗨️   146 ⭮   2k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Nov 01, 2XXX [35] from scratch, shrimp chips: when uraraka’s taste testing the final versions, she tells bakugou to come and try them. Bakugou grabs the chip she’s eating out of her hand and takes a bite AND THEN STUFFS IT BACK IN HER MOUTH BEFORE WALKING AWAY 29 🗨️   132 ⭮   2.4k ♡

…

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jan 11, 2XXX [69] hot takes, udon: bakugou says he’s only doing this video because someone said he had to, and uraraka mouths at the camera “he can’t say no to me” and bakugou sees her doing it but just rolls his eyes HE DOESN’T DENY IT 34 🗨️   204 ⭮   1.8k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jan 11, 2XXX [70] hot takes, udon: bakugou’s testing the dough consistency and yells at uraraka to come over so he can compare it TO HER CHEEKS and the man no cap says “not soft enough, it needs more pounding” and the blush on her face AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 119 🗨️   451 ⭮   3.6k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jan 24, 2XXX [71] the great u.a. bake off, pavlovas: honestly just take this entire episode as proof you can FEEL the tension through the screen my god. the way they’re play-fighting/flirting throughout the episode jesus fucking christ the flavor is immaculate 85 🗨️   154 ⭮   2.1k ♡

…

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Mar 01, 2XXX [82] bon appetit, coq au vin: aoyama asks uraraka for help and bakugou literally spends the entire video glaring at aoyama from the background and ochako mouths “I’m almost done katsuki” at 15:43 SHE USES HIS FIRST NAME 26 🗨️   98 ⭮   1.9k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Mar 09, 2XXX [83] hot takes, takoyaki: uraraka asks bakugou to taste test a smoothie for her and he goes, “the one you made yesterday was better” but later he says something about hating Mondays WHICH MEANS HE AND URARAKA WERE TOGETHER OVER THE WEEKEND 37 🗨️   159 ⭮   2k ♡

… 13 more replies

↳ teatime @kabedondon – 6h Replying to @retrograade the detail in this thread is scary but even more concerning is the fact that you’ve somehow managed to convince me, at the very minimum, that they’re fucking 13 🗨️   1.1k ⭮   4k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – 4h Replying to @kabedondon welcome to the club, hope you enjoy your stay 21 🗨️   59 ⭮   573 ♡

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

Todoroki stared down at the gooey, green-streaked mess of chocolate in front of him mournfully. At his side, Yaoyorozu looked equally despondent, poking at the dull sheen of dark chocolate covering the biscuit in her hand. 

“Should we…?” Todoroki glanced over hesitantly, and Yaoyorozu bit her lip. 

“I was really hoping we’d get it this time.” She sighed heavily, before turning around. The camera zoomed out, the frame widening to show a few people milling around in the background. “Uraraka! Do you have a moment?” 

A chirpy voice replied, “Sure!” Todoroki visibly sighed in relief, quickly dumping his mixing bowl into the sink of dirty dishes as Uraraka came into the shot. 

“Huh, that’s definitely not right…” The brunette poked Yaoyorozu’s chocolate mixture with a frown. “What temperature did you heat this to?” 

“45 degrees?” Uraraka hummed, scooping up a bit of the mixture and dumping it into her hand. She rubbed at it, frowning. “What did you use as your seeded chocolate?” 

Todoroki slid the half-empty bag of chocolate chips across the counter, and Uraraka dumped a pile of them out. Little disks spilled across the marble, and she tested one piece between her clean fingers. “Uh, you know that you’re supposed to use tempered chocolate to seed, right?” 

Todoroki opened his mouth, paused, then closed it abruptly. Yaoyorozu buried her face in her hands and audibly groaned.

“Hey, the good news is that you can totally reuse this!” Uraraka tried to smile encouragingly. “Did the matcha chocolate come out weird too, or –?”

“Oi, what the fuck is this?” The camera panned to the side, where Bakugou was holding up Todoroki’s abandoned mixing bowl in a fist, features twisted into a grimace. “Did all those e-cigs fry your brain, Half-and-half? Who the fuck doesn’t sift matcha before –” 

“Hey, lay off of him, Bakugou.” Uraraka stomped over and snatched the bowl away. “Tempering is hard! And you know white chocolate is tricky.” 

“Tch, please.” He scoffed. “What kind of idiot can’t temper chocolate?” 

Uraraka’s eyes flashed, and she planted her arms on her waist. “Have you ever tempered chocolate before?” 

“What kind of dumbass question is that?” Bakugou growled. “Course I have, I didn’t live under a fucking rock like these two morons.” 

Yaoyorozu bristled indignantly, but Uraraka held up her hand. Todoroki just looked tired, and muttered under his breath, “Here we go again…”

“Then you wouldn’t mind giving us a demonstration, would you?” Bakugou looked at her sweet, smiling face suspiciously. “Or are you too chicken to prove it?”

Red eyes flashed dangerously. “... the fuck did you just say?”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

The video cut to a shot of lumpy, melted white goo, before zooming out to show Bakugou’s scowl. “What the fuck is wrong with this shitty chocolate?” He kept stirring, even more vigorously this time, and looked down at the mixture as if he was trying to set it on fire with his glare.

Todoroki and Yaoyorozu were tucked a little ways away, snickering quietly as they watched from a safe distance away. Across from Bakugou, leaning casually against the counter, Uraraka smiled gleefully.

“Hur-dur, ‘what kind of idiot can’t temper chocolate?’ ” she mimicked, her voice lowered in an approximation of the blonde’s low growl. Uraraka laughed, and then ducked as a chocolate-covered spatula sailed over her head.

“FUCK OFF, ROUND FACE!” 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

smolbean678 reblogged kryssalys ochaakou:

reasons you should stan uraraka ochako, u.a.’s farming goddess and resident bakugou whisperer:

- has probably saved about half of the “from scratch” episodes by virtue of being the only person in the entire u.a. test kitchen who can consistently temper chocolate

- speaking of chocolate, this woman pulled the hardest flex by making her own chocolate from a raw cacao pod, and then proceeded to make chocolate chicken mole with it just to prove to the haters that she could 

- is the acting president of the musutafu ninniclub, a japanese club for lovers of garlic. she also openly admits to sleeping with a ninnikyun plushie, aka the club mascot which is apparently a giant garlic clove (seriously, you can’t make this shit up guys)

- vocal advocate of Feeding Japan, a hunger relief organization that works to combat food insecurity, and is frequently seen volunteering at food banks and soup kitchens (1) (2) (3) (4)

- a lot of the ingredients she features in the “farm to table” series come from her parent’s farm! (pics) she grew up working at her parents’ stall at her hometown farmer’s market and promotes buying locally to support regional farms and businesses.

- this masterpiece of a tweet: “I love food and I love to eat. If someone wants to shame me for my body then they can go fuck themselves.”

- creates recipes that not only taste good but are also healthy, quick, easy and beginner friendly – yes, I’m looking at you, mr. bakugou “just fucking flip it and reduce for 3 days” katsuki – see the archive of her recipes here (x)

- has a tiktok dedicated entirely to trolling todoroki’s reactions with weird flavors of soba, these are my favorites (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7)

- she’s a self-taught chef who started as a dishwasher and worked up to being the sous chef at ryuko tatsuma’s restaurant dragoon before coming to the u.a. test kitchen and was regularly praised by food critics (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

- has single-handedly saved u.a. millions of yen from that one time she stopped bakugou from ‘accidentally’ exploding an air fryer

- speaks fluent baku-rage, not to mention their chemistry is off the charts hoO BOY the slow burn is fucking real y’all

alright there’s so much more stuff but I fucking hate formatting links, so watch farm to table and follow uraraka on social media (twitter / instagram / tiktok) because this queen deserves our love. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

hoooooot-hoot:

[link] to the twitter thread for my fellow kacchako shippers, i gotchu

54,230 notes #ua test kitchen #kacchako #stan uraraka #bakugou better worship our queen or im gonna throw hands

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

“Ugh.” Uraraka glared down at the sad, deflated lumps sitting in the middle of her ramekins. “Where is Aoyama when you need him?” 

“That looks pathetic,” a blunt voice said, and Uraraka sighed as Bakugou came into the camera frame, leaning over the counter to peer into one cup with a skeptical look. “What the hell are you making?” 

“Well, it’s supposed to be a pistachio-strawberry souffle.” She huffed, rubbing at her neck in frustration. “I can’t figure out how to get the nuts to distribute evenly… and it’s just not rising? I don’t get it – I remade my pastry cream like, three times, I know it’s fine, and I buttered my molds but it just…”

“You try freezing the molds after you butter them?” A frown came over Uraraka’s face as she shook her head. Bakugou grabbed one of the little cups, prodding the contents with a finger, and made a face. “Keeps it from contaminating your mixture and fucking up the rise.”

“When I make them at home, they’re usually fine at room temp,” she said dejectedly. “I don’t know why I can’t get it right today.” 

The camera zoomed in a little, focusing on Bakugou’s expression as he glanced towards Uraraka. He looked a little concerned, and after a beat of silence, he came around the counter to stand beside her.

“Oi, don’t get all mopey on me, Cheeks.” He nudged her shoulder lightly, settling a hand across the back of Uraraka’s neck. “You good?” 

She sighed heavily, leaning a little into his hand. “Yeah, yeah, I just… I don’t know. My brain isn’t working right now.” 

“Tch.” Bakugou looked over the mess of bowls spread across the counter, eyes settling on the deflated looking egg-whites on one side. “Look – I’ll help ya out, just this once. Don’t quit on me now, yeah?

She blinked, looking up at him with furrowed brows. “But I thought… don’t you have that thing, with –”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. This is more important,” he said, shrugging off his leather jacket and rolling up his sleeves. Uraraka just looked back at him in confusion. 

“But…” She bit her lip hesitantly. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah.” Bakugou smirked back at her as he tied on his apron. “I got you, Cheeks.” 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

[Video: Todoroki, frozen in place with blank eyes and noodles falling out of his mouth as someone shakes his unresponsive body]

u_ochako: i… may have made chocolate flavored soba. PLEASE DON’T CRY TODOROKI #imsorry ♡ 137.4K   🗨️ 3251 

trololoki: holy shit he actually looks like he’s about to cry View replies (157) ⯆ 

augusttine: can we all agree that what makes this 10x funnier is bakugou’s hyena cackling in the background View replies (209) ⯆ 

u_24: this is soba-sphemous View replies (54) ⯆ 

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

Uraraka rubbed her eyes, blinking as she gaped.

“You…” She looked up at him, chin trembling. “Did you really…?”

“Tch.” Bakugou huffed, trying to hide a smile. “What, your eyes don’t work now, Cheeks?” he teased. 

“I just - ” Uraraka pinched herself, yelping at the pain, before a huge, toothy smile broke out across her face. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you actually did it.” 

“You did get on your knees and beg, so…” He shrugged, snickering as Uraraka approached the counter reverently, her face glowing in sheer joy. “Ten kinds of mochi, as fuckin’ promised.”

She turned to him pleadingly. “Can I…?” 

“I already took the photos.” He nodded at the spread, a rainbow of different colors delicately arranged with a pot of tea, ready to be eaten. “Go for it, babygirl.”

Uraraka already had a daifuku mochi halfway to her mouth, lips open as she got ready to take a bite, when an unfamiliar voice cut into the video. 

“Wait a second.” Both of them paused to look at the camera in confusion. “Did he just call you babygirl?” 

There was a beat of silence, before Uraraka’s face exploded into a bright red blush. Next to her, Bakugou quietly muttered, “Fuck.”

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

[Photo: an image featuring white sheets and pillows, a woman’s bare upper back, and messy brown hair with a woman’s face half-buried in a pillow]

Liked by dekiru, redkiri, and 541,803 others bakugoukatsuki: delicious u_ochako: UM bakugoukatsuki: @u_ochako did i lie though shouto: thank god fucking finally View all 6,248 comments

3 HOURS AGO

─── ･｡ﾟ❁ﾟ｡･ ───

SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jun 04, 2XXX RT @marsali: I. FUCKING. CALLED. IT. 

THIS IS WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF @marsali – 21m @retrograade THE SHIP HAS SAILED I REPEAT THE SHIP HAS SAILED #kacchako [media attached]

42 🗨️   3.8k ⭮   8.7k ♡

[absoloutenonsense]

2020 Writing Self-Evaluation 🖊

Thank you @kingsofeverything for the tag! 

1. Number of stories posted to AO3 this year: 5

2. Total word count posted to AO3 for the year: 127,221

3. List of works published this year: these are in order by date posted:

Listen to the signs (Jan 1)

Nothing But You On My Mind (Mar 27)

You Called (I Missed It) (May 28)

Gimme Some Sugar (Aug 2)

It’s Always Better When We’re Together (Aug 23)

4. Work you are most proud of (and why): It’s Always Better When We’re Together was posted as part of a fundraiser, so I’m really proud of the money we raised together, and thus the story itself. 

5. Work you are least proud of (and why): I’m proud of all of them, but I suppose Listen to the signs, and only because looking back at it now, there are a few things I would do differently. 

6. A favorite excerpt of your writing: The first kiss scene in NBYOMM. I had a lot of fun writing them drunk and feeling all of that electricity between them. It’s too long to post all of it but I’ll post a little.

Louis giggles at that thought. Harry smiles back at him, but he’s so close it’s kind of a blur. It’s then that Louis realizes he’s gonna kiss him. “Mmm,” Louis hums. “Can I?” Harry asks. “Hm?” “Can I, please?” he asks again. A whisper. Their noses touch and Louis can feel Harry’s breath on his lips. Louis’ hands come up to hold on to Harry’s wrists, and then they slide up and down a bit across his forearms. “Shouldn’t,” he whispers back. The hair along Harry’s arm tickles his palms. It’s nice. “We want to,” Harry says. “Just one.” Louis can practically feel the wetness of Harry’s mouth already against his own. His heart is beating so fast. When did his heart start beating so fast? “Just one,” Louis says. Breathes out. Can feel and hear Harry’s lips make a soft sound as they part. But he doesn’t actually move forward, so Louis says it again, “Just one.”

7. Share or describe a favorite comment you received: All of them, truly! It makes me feel warm whenever someone takes the time to do that, because I know it’s much easier to just not. Trying to be more specific, ones that say something along the lines of “what the fuck!!!” make me laugh a lot. 

8. A time when writing was really, really hard: This whole year has been rough if I’m honest. I suppose the last few months have been the worst of it, just feeling like I have no motivation to work on anything. I’m truly in awe of and grateful for everyone who put work out this year! 

9. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Cedric from my royal brat au. I started writing him and he became such a comfort throughout the story. I wish he were real and I wish I knew him so he could make me Croque Madame and I could tell him how wonderful he is. 

10. How did you grow as a writer this year: I was a little kinder to myself. I feel like all writers go through various stages with their work where you love it then you hate it, and you post it then hate it even more. Putting work out into the world is making yourself vulnerable, and I’ve learned to try and hold myself through those feelings instead of berating myself for them.

11. How do you hope to grow next year: I want to try writing a few new/different ways. Most of my works in progress are long bois, which can feel really heavy if I’m not careful. I’m going to try and give myself more prompts for shorter bois and mix up the way I’m writing to get me out of my comfort zone. 

12. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): All of my friends who cheered me on, especially when I got down on myself. Thank you and I love you <3 

13. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: Loads of little things. Part of me hopes someone can see the parts of me in my stories, and another part wishes to remain unperceived. Such is life!

14. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: Writing doesn’t stop being hard, but it should never feel like a chore. If it feels like something you have to do, don’t be afraid to take a step back, figure out why, and try to make it more fun for yourself.  Also look up Ursula Le Guin quotes on writing or her writing schedule, because she’s fab and who I’d like to be when I grow up. 

15. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I’ve got a few longer works I started this year I would like to finish next year. Also, I want to get back to H&P in whatever form it comes in.

16. Tag 3 writers whose answers you’d like to read. @a-brighter-yellow @indiaalphawhiskey @cocoalou

*All answers should be about works published in 2020. Also, you can skip any questions you hate or don’t want to answer, but please leave them on the list so that others can do them if they want.

[fictionalarsonist]

heartache — pt.2

pairing ›_yoonkook

content ›_angst ; fluff ; underage drinking ; mild language ; jealous!yoongi rating ›_pg word count ›_4.3k

―

premise ›_they’re two idiots in love still figuring things out.

a/n ›_this is an unplanned follow up to the heartache drabble, requested by taesboba and jazzy3120 at ao3. I hope they enjoy it as well as everyone else who reads. Feedback is always appreciated. edit ›_(Aug.2nd) had to change the title because part 3 was requested. 😂😂 the funny thing is, I wrote heartache as part of a drabble in which I compromised myself in not writing too much, but i'm always happy to take requests. credit › _thank you so much to @mindays​ for beta-reading and helping me out with this one for me. _😘💕

「 ao3 | masterlist 」

[ heartache | part 2 | epilogue ] 

The car stopped and Yoongi looked through the window, part of him expected to see Jungkook somewhere among the other students. He felt the driver’s eyes on him through the rearview mirror and forced himself to divert his attention, sliding his wallet out of his jacket’s pocket to pay the man.

“Look,” the man started, chewing his gum way too obnoxiously for Yoongi’s taste, “If you don’t have a dorm or anything and— y’know, need a place to stay...”

Yoongi saw him reaching inside over the panel and for a piece of paper and a pen, write something down and slide the paper in the folded bills before handing it to him.

“It’s cheap and somewhere— near ,” the man cracks a contained laughter that shakes his shoulders a little, “I guess we could say that?” His laughter dies when Yoongi doesn’t seem to respond to his antics, “Just try giving a call, okay? Have fun in college, kid.”

Yoongi pocketed the money and stepped out of the car, glad that he could breath fresh, untainted air yet again. Yoongi swung his backpack on his shoulder, the old thing could fall apart any day, but he’s oddly attached to it. He shifted the gym bag he’s been carrying from one hand to another after shoving the money in his pocket and leaving his hand tucked in there as he took a quick look around.

Yoongi isn’t exactly what one would call a very good navigator, but he could remember by heart the address Jungkook gave to him. He walked straight along the park until the second intersection, then he crossed the street. Yoongi can’t help but to notice how these traditional colleges have the same type of environment and architecture, but the locations are always random or so it seems.

One could never know where everything is supposed to be. Yoongi recalls how long it took him and Hoseok to figure out the different paths and shortcuts to go from one place to another. Jungkook, being the ever infamous golden boy that he is, always figures things out as if it was nothing to others. Hoseok told him about it, Hoseok would always update him on anything Jungkook related— Not that Yoongi ever asked him too. But, he couldn’t just— Simply ignore it and not listen to it. He just pretended he didn’t.

Then again, of course, this was before that day. Before Yoongi saw the mess that he created. That late afternoon when he cornered Hoseok and made him trace Jungkook’s phone location, grabbed his friend’s car keys and rushed to the place he still knows by heart because that's where Jungkook would always oh-so-coincidentally bump into him with his friends and his girlfriend. Saying he felt like a piece of trash seeing Jungkook wasted like that is an understatement.

It took so much of Yoongi to keep himself together and try helping Jungkook at that moment when he himself was a turmoil inside, not knowing how to feel or how to act. The only thing he knew was that that scene right there was dangerous and he knew Jungkook’s story with alcohol so it made it all worse— All the more scary and Yoongi just couldn’t stop blaming himself.

Not when he arrived nor when he managed to get Jungkook to throw up all that was inside of him and sober a little. Not when he had Jungkook in his arms and felt so powerless because even though he was there he kept pushing Yoongi away and this could be too late for them.

It was hard, stumbling on his thoughts and uncertainties in front of Jungkook sitting across from him in that truck. The way Jungkook looked at him, utterly vulnerable, physically sick, and emotionally hurt when Yoongi— very inappropriately, mind you—  gathered whatever courage he could to finally spell it out his confession.

It could be called a miracle that things turned out good considering how much of a neglecting asshole he was for so long. Now, he’s doing again, dragging himself halfway across the country to meet that annoying brat that is his boyfriend. Six months is too long, Skype calls, phone calls, texts. Nothing’s anywhere near being good enough when Yoongi thinks of just how they were together almost the entire time over their summer break. Even so, it wasn’t enough.

Yoongi’s not quite sure what he expected, but Jungkook is nothing he could imagine and the thrill of a new relationship still burns between them very frustratingly with the many miles that keeps them apart. It’s almost consequential that one of them decided to reach out first and see the other, and since Jungkook’s still going over his finals Yoongi decided to arrange his final project’s schedule around it.

A quick look around told Yoongi he’s close enough. He could see the statue, ‘The Patron’ as Jungkook told him it’s called. And as Jungkook said, it’s decorated with some weird accessories provided by some students that were starting to celebrate the end of another semester, or, in other cases, the end of their major. Yoongi recognizes Jungkook’s contribution to the mess, he’s seen before in the picture Jungkook sent him to let him know what the statue looks like on the ‘How to get to my dorm’ file.

It’s quite unbelievable how the dean doesn’t even try to stop this anymore. His college, on the other hand, would have the staff throwing a fit just for the sombrero on the statue’s head. Jungkoook’s contribution is a copy of Yoongi’s tattoo, painted in white on the dark green statue, at the same place Yoongi has it. A little too detailed, Yoongi thinks, and way too unnecessary as he said before, but professing that to the bratty Jungkook only earned him an amused chuckle and a very teasing-toned reply.

“Oh! C’mon, hyung!” Jungkook started all by himself, knowing his teasing would always stir a nerve in Yoongi, “It’s the end of my second semester. My first year, my first collaboration on the project! I was told to contribute with something that means something important to me.”

“My tattoo?” Yoongi replied, refusing to acknowledge how affected he was by the way Jungkook smiled at him with a purpose and Yoongi liked even less that Jungkook quickly shifted into his mocking demeanor.

“Well, it’s not like I could draw you there. I couldn’t pin you there either,” though, despite his worlds, Jungkook seems to be putting some thought into it.

“Whatever you’re thinking of — Just don’t!” He tried to cut  Jungkook off when the other half-smiled to himself and shifted in bed to lay down.

“I swear, hyung. I’d be a waste, if I could bring you all the way here, I’d pin you right on this bed.” Jungkook provoked, placing his laptop beside him instead. “Do you have any idea of how much I miss you right now? — ”

Yoongi doesn’t really want to think of how Jungkook’s voice sounded so purposefully provocative and instantly made him weak. It’s just embarrassing how things turned out to be. Not that Yoongi doesn’t like it, but he prefers not to think about the way goosebumps runs over his skin and he’s always so responsive to Jungkook.

Jungkook, on the other hand, has been enjoying himself all too much, pushing some limits here and there and seeing Yoongi just allowing him with nothing but meaningless protests. Yoongi’s been quite pathetic, while Jungkook has been enjoying having this effect on his hyung a little bit too much for Yoongi’s liking. Jungkook isn’t Yoongi’s first relationship, but with him everything’s so much more than Yoongi ever had. 

The statue certainly means he’s going the right way and Yoongi decides not to let his mind wander too much or he might get lost which isn't the ideal at the moment. So, from the statue he should take the second left. Jungkook said he’d be in class and would meet him at the apartment, his roommate moved out— Seokjin, or Jin-hyung as Jungkook likes to call him, Yoongi remembers well because Jungkook couldn’t stop singing praises about the guy that Yoongi saw plenty of times on Jungkook’s social media.

It doesn’t quite surprise Yoongi that he recognizes Seokjin when he looks over and he definitely doesn’t need a second glance to clearly see Jungkook beside him. Yoongi pauses his steps as he stops and stands there, furrowing his brows. His watch tells him he’s not late or early, actually, he’s right on time. Jungkook had told him he’d be in class for two and a half hours, so why is he in the middle of the campus, talking to his ex-roommate? Without as much as a second thought Yoongi finds his feet taking him their way.

“You’ll be okay without me around, right?” Jin asks.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, hyung.” Jungkook smiles with a shrug.

Jin takes a once-over at Jungkook and his eyes stop at the messy hair falling over the younger’s eyes.

“You really should cut your hair,” Jin says introspectively, reaching out to try and arrange the loose strands, running his hand through Jungkook’s hair.

“Alright! Geez!” Jungkook starts complaining, pulling back from Jin’s obsessive mania of getting everything into place. “I will, hyung! When the finals are over-,” Jungkook tries to lean back to escape from Jin’s obsessive behavior of always fixing everything.

“Jungkook!”

Jungkook’s heels scrape the gravaled ground as he turns to Yoongi walking up to him with purpose. Jungkook’s first reaction would be greeting Yoongi as he meant to do since they parted ways, but something tells him that there doesn't seem to be a space for that at the moment. Whatever Jungkook says is lost in the wind while Yoongi locks eyes with Jin as he coolly retracts his hand from Jungkook’s hair. Seemingly unfazed by Yoongi’s hard, threatening stare.

“I thought you’d be in class,” Yoongi speaks up, his eyes taking their time to look away from the calm and collected Jin in front of him to Jungkook.

“I should , but the professor didn’t show up,” Jungkook says, “I was about to go home and wait for you when I met Jin-hyung.”

Yoongi’s eyes quickly land on Jin again, clearly displeased to see that he’s still there. Jungkook’s eyes find Yoongi’s backpack hanging from his fingers and he tries to take it from him, though Yoongi’s fingers have a firm grip on it.

“Just give it, hyung,” Jungkook insists.

“You already have enough on you,” Yoongi contests, resisting even though Jungkook doesn’t let go, nodding at Jungkook’s own backpack and the books under his arm.

“I’m alright, hyung.” Jungkook assures him in a half-annoyed tone, his fingers forcing Yoongi’s to let him take it.

Yoongi sighs and Jungkook knows he’s embarrassed with this, it’s been a pleasure apart from everything else to know this other side of Yoongi. It’s been all the more fun to explore this side of Yoongi too, but Jungkook knows now’s not the moment to push it further. Not with the way Yoongi looked at Jin just a moment before.

Jungkook’s eyes snap at Jin for a moment. “Oh, right. I almost forgot.” Jungkook says with one of his mischievous smiles he knows Yoongi’s always suspicious about and he gave his boyfriend plenty of reasons to be suspicious of, although not enough— or so Jungkook thinks.

“Hyung,” Jin’s attention never left them but his eyes had been softly watching Yoongi with something rather unreadable in them, they slide over to Jungkook, “This is Min Yoongi-hyung—”

“Ah!” Jin extends his hand, “Of course.”

Jungkook turns to Yoongi next and manners his hand to Jin, “I told you about Jin-hyung before, right?”

“Yeah, you did,” Yoongi speaks up loosely.

Against his own will Yoongi pulls out his hand from his pocket and takes Jin’s hand firmly in his locking eyes with the guy. Yoongi doesn’t want to let his mind go over unnecessary things, but he didn’t like how Jin’s taller and perfectly put together self is presented to him. But, the real reason as to why Yoongi gets put-off by Jin is that arrogant smile flashing towards him as if Jin knows something Yoongi doesn’t.

“It’s good finally meeting you,” Jin says with a casual politeness that is an obvious characteristic of him, even not knowing him Yoongi could see it. “You know,” Jin smiles pleasantly, but it just makes it harder for Yoongi to not dislike the guy, “Jungkook’s always talking about you.”

“I’m sure he’d do that. I’m his boyfriend.”

Yoongi finds himself saying, squeezing Jin’s hands in his and pulling back harshly. Jin raises an eyebrow, tilting his head with a clear contradicted expression at first that only lasts for a second before he portraits his signature polite smile.

“Well, I’m just his roommate— Well, I mean ex -roommate, right?” Jin lets out what Yoongi clearly sees as a posed smile, a posed chuckle that he has no doubt others can easily fall for. Not him. “I was kicked out.”

“I didn’t kick you out, hyung!” Jungkook protests.

“Oh, c’mon, Kookie!” Jin seems to genuinely enjoy calling Jungkook that nickname, Yoongi, on the other hand, isclose to having enough of it. “I got pretty sick and tired of you complaining about how our living arrangements wouldn’t allow your boyfriend to come over and stay with you. It was too clear for me to not take the hint, it just worries me about the rent, though.”

“Don’t worry, hyung. I got it.” Jungkook reassures him.

“Well, if you say so—” Jin shrugs dismissively, “Let me know if something comes up. I can always move back in.”

If only looks could kill, Jin would be a dead man long before he could finish saying that with that ridiculous, arrogant, posed smile that’s started to rub off on Yoongi in the wrong way everytime Jin does it.

[ ⁕⁕⁕ ]

“Hyung?” Jungkook calls out for the nth time as they walk to Jungkook’s place. “Hyung, what’s wrong?” Jungkook insists on despite knowing it might not be the best idea, “Hyung! Yoongi-hyung!”

“I’m just fucking tired, okay?” Yoongi speaks between his teeth and Jungkook sighs as the elevator doors open and they step in.

Yoongi turns to look at Jungkook, examining him.

“What~?” Jungkook asks, half-irritated now.

“What’s the problem with your hair?”

“Huh?” Jungkook looks up, not being able to reach up to check it since his hands are busy.

“That guy was running his hands in your hair when I saw you. What’s wrong with it?” Yoongi asks with even less patience and Jungkook chuckles looking back at him.

“Ah, that. Jin’s kind of obsessed with everything being clean and right… I don’t know,” Jungkook shrugs, “He keeps nagging at me.”

“You don’t wash your hair?”

“Wha- No! Hyung, no!” Jungkook laughs, “It’s just that— I should’ve got a new cut, but I can’t find the time to do it, since there’s still some finals to go through and some stupid project I have to finish. I just haven’t had time to go to a barber since he moved out.”

“I think it’s just fine like this,” Yoongi speaks up, “Just cut the ends, I think. So it won’t fall over your eyes.”

He’s not used to this yet. Especially since he knows the provocative smile Jungkook’s wearing right now.

“Thank you, hyung. Actually, I was thinking... I was thinking of just cutting a little just so the hair won’t fall on my face, but I’ll keep the long bangs.”

Yoongi sees Jungkook moving closer to him, he looks over only to find his boyfriend’s face just a breath away from the distance of him. Yoongi turns to look at the closed doors again and feels Jungkook’s breathy chuckle on his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Yoongi can pretty much feel the blood running to the surface.

Jungkook’s always a brat, always finding a way to get to him, the problem is Yoongi finds himself being pretty vulnerable to it.

“But, hyung~,” Jungkook breaths on his skin and Yoongi gulps down the tension building up on his muscles, “That’s only if you’d think I look hot like that. If you really like it, you know?”

Yoongi feels thankful when the doors slide open and he clears his throat. He’d move his feet to bolt out of the elevator first if his feet didn’t seem to be glued down at the moment. He watches Jungkook, with that stupid smug face of his, walk out first.

As Yoongi follows Jungkook down the hall he tries not to think about it, he really tries not to, but he can’t help it. Jin sets him off, he just knew it’d be like that, he didn’t like the way Jungkook kept singing nothing but praises about the guy. How intelligent, eloquent, caring, or whatever this Jin guy is, how they went out and this and that happened, how Jin knows almost everyone who’s someone around the campus.

Yoongi can’t stop thinking how many times Jin walked down this hall together with Jungkook and this is so fucking silly, but Yoongi can’t get out of his mind how freely Jin acted around Jungkook. This was nothing like someone who sees the other as just a friend and Yoongi’s not sure if Jungkook’s oblivious enough not to see it or if he’s pretending not to. Either way, it doesn't help the case.

Yoongi closes the door behind him and gives a quick look at the apartment’s living room. Everything’s organized and clean, something he knows Jungkook isn’t that good at.

“What?” Jungkook asks, his eyes trained on Yoongi.

“Was it you or your ex- roommate who cleaned the place?” Yoongi wishes he didn’t say it like that, but the words just rolled out of his lips.

“Hyung-” 

Yoongi finds it odd how close Jungkook’s voice sounds, so he looks up only to be caged in by Jungkook’s body and the wall behind him. He didn’t even have the time to take off his shoes.

“Are you jealous, hyung?” Jungkook provokes, stepping closer to Yoongi now pressed with his back flat against the wall. Jungkook had that stupid smug grin pulling the corners of his lips, “Are you thinking of Jin being here with me, is that it?”

Yoongi moves his head and Jungkook presses his hand on the wall next to Yoongi’s head, grinning when their lips brush much to Yoongi’s dismay. Jungkook humms, low and provoking and Yoongi swallows around nothing, taking a sharp breath, his eyes drawn to his boyfriend’s lips molded into that stupid grin Yoongi’s oh-so-tempted to cover with his own lips.

But before he can do anything, Jungkook moves his lips to Yoongi’s ear and Yoongi tries his best to not allow his body to shake with the goosebumps that run under his skin so violently. This is the aftermath of pent-up sexual tension between them and Yoongi knows it. He wants Jungkook just as much as he knows Jungkook wants him. Yoongi has been pushing the boundary and testing Jungkook on it, only to be surprised by the younger’s immediate reaction.

Jungkook’s lips brush on his earlobe just for a moment before he pulls away enough just so all Yoongi can feel is his skin tingling under Jungkook’s breath.

“Hyung,” Jungkook breaths on his skin and chuckles when Yoongi can’t stop the tremble that shakes through him, “Hyung, do you think I’d even think of someone else? Me?”

Yoongi isn’t conscious of Jungkook’s hand sliding down the wall beside him until he feels his hand pulling his body and Yoongi can’t help but to be compliant. His hand reaches up on its own until he has a firm grip on Jungkook’s sleeve. 

“My Yoongi-hyung.”

Yoongi’s eyes close once Jungkook’s lips touch his jaw light as a feather, brushing on the spot as Jungkook’s hand takes a firm grip on his waist, pressing Yoongi’s side to his chest tightly, leaving Yoongi wanting more than that.

“I could never look at some other guy,” Jungkook speaks smoothly against his skin, lowering his lips down Yoongi’s neck, stopping unexpectedly to press his lips at random spots, causing Yoongi’s pulse to jolt and race each time. “Not when I know I can have you.”

Jungkook’s hand slid down Yoongi’s side, finding the hem of the shirt under the jacket. Yoongi’s hand grips tightly on his boyfriend's biceps and he licks his lips. Jungkook glances at Yoongi’s face just enough to see him frowning; swallowing thickly around his words and Jungkook knows what he wants to say.

They’ve been waiting for this, to hold each other, feel each other like this, push the boundaries they couldn’t dare to during that summer break when Jungkook was nothing but an inexcusable, pathetic mess and Yoongi couldn’t, for the life of him, put together a comprehensive sentence right now. Yet, this seems to be going too far too fast, Jungkook knows and he doesn’t want to force anything, but it’s so deliciously pleasing to have Yoongi there for him, so pliant and responsive.

Yoongi feels Jungkook’s fingertips pressing on the small of his back, tracing his skin without pressing yet. Yoongi finds himself edging against him and even though this isn’t supposed to be happening, not now. Maybe Jungkook doesn’t know, maybe he can’t tell, but somewhere under the haze and warmth of the feeling of having Jungkook surrounding him, Yoongi knows this is just too soon.

“I craved you the whole semester, y’know?” Jungkook mutters against his skin and Yoongi tries his best not to close his eyes, it’s what Jungkook wants and he’s not willing to let him have it. “You don’t know how much I keep thinking about how your voice sounds over the phone- I loved seeing your face flushed that day too.”

Yoongi can’t help it, his eyes close before he notices as he feels Jungkook nibbling on his skin, at a particular soft spot near his clavicle. He fists Jungkook’s jacket and feels the smug grin pressed on his skin and he wants to complain, but all he’s able to muster is a deep groan that has Jungkook humming along as if they’re singing  a song together. Yoongi hates this as much as he wants to keep it going.

“I keep thinking about that one time you called me drunk in the middle of the night, hyung~” The words color Yoongi’s mind with blurry faint memories, the embarrassment of what happened serves off a remedy to make him snap out of this trace, just enough to get him to think of saying something.

His lips part even if he doesn’t know what he’d say and Yoongi hears the sound of a struggled gasp falls from his own lips when Jungkook all knowingly pressing an open-mouthed kiss on his pulse while his arm circle his middle underneath the shirt and his hand now presses harder on his skin. This is ridiculous, it’s nothing much. Yet, Yoongi can’t help himself. He loses himself in Jungkook’s warmth just as easily.

But, next thing he knows, he can’t feel Jungkook anymore, even so, Yoongi’s still into that haze Jungkook wrapped him in, still too lost to see through it all and Jungkook gives him a moment. He stands there, watching this new side of Yoongi; once he sees his hyung is stable again, Jungkook pulls away and he can see the confusion in Yoongi’s eyes looking for him. Jungkook wishes he didn’t have to stop there, but there’s still time.

Jungkook walks away with one of his soft smiles, taking a last look at how flustered Yoongi looks pressed up against that wall, pretending his fingertips doesn’t still tingle, craving for the touch of Yoongi’s skin again. He just has to pretend to not be that much affected and it’s not easy.

“I’ll put your things in my room,” he speaks up, not sure if Yoongi actually hears him, then he leaves before he can get any response. Yoongi could very well ask to stay in the other room and Jungkook doesn’t want that.

Yoongi runs his hands over his face and groans, this time disapprovingly of himself. He doesn’t recall how it started, but he’s relieved Jungkook seems to understand, or, at least, Yoongi hopes he does. Jungkook has always been a brat and he could’ve stopped just because he felt like it, but Yoongi wanted to think it’s because he understood. He pushes himself off the wall and finds himself lost inside the rather small apartment.

“I cleaned it because I knew you’d nag at me, hyung,” Jungkook says ever so casually as he walks in the living room again, as if what just happened was nothing but a speck of Yoongi’s imagination that came out vivid enough to leave the burn on his skin where Jungkook had touched him, “Are you hungry?”

Yoongi swallows, fighting off the awkwardness of not quite knowing what to do with himself and he sees Jungkook grinning to himself as he steps into the kitchen area.

“Why? Did you cook?” Yoongi didn’t even try to hide his skepticism and chose to sit on the couch, he looks down only to see Jungkook’s notebook open on top of a stack of books. He skims the page and naturally doesn’t understand a word.

“I’m living alone for over a year now, hyung,” Jungkook points out and looks back only to see Yoongi running his hand on the back of his neck, to make himself feel better. “If you’re tired just lay down a bit, I just have to heat this up. I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Yoongi can hear Jungkook saying something about the bed, but to him, the couch sounds good enough. He tries to keeps his eyes open just a little while, just to drawn in the sound of Jungkook in the kitchen; different than what Yoongi imagined, Jungkook’s not loud, he barely makes any noise and he doesn know if he’s trying to be quiet or this is who he is while cooking. Just one of the things Yoongi would like to find out over these weeks. He hears the fridge being opened and the knife slicing the vegetables, hitting the cutting board and the place’s small and quiet enough for Yoongi to hear the shuffle of Jungkook’s bare feet on the floor and he sleeps with an unexpected reassurance.

⇽ part 01 | epilogue ⇾

[ssttitdramon]

Ham Sandwich Boys

Ramón Morales x Male!Reader

Request: Would you be comfortable doing a Ramón x Male reader? If so, can you write a out them running from town to town to escape the draft and they meet the gang and the gang defends them as boyfriends? Maybe?

- Request? Here are the rules -

Word Count: 2,706

Warnings: Mentions of homophobia.

Note: I’m scrapping canon beginning and I twisted this up a bit, hope you still like it! (Sorry this took forever to post! Thank you for your patience!!)

“Gimme another.” Ramón asks, holding out his palm. You fish out a nickel from your jean pocket and handed the coin to him. You listen to him insert the coin and push a button, starting the washing machine.

“You sure you’ve got the right socks in there?” you nudge his shoulder, remembering the time Ramón had accidentally let a blue and orange sock into his sister’s white clothes pile. The wash was stopped quickly, but not before completely ruining his sister’s new First Communion dress. Ramón laughs at the memory, his first genuine laugh in days and it made you feel so relieved. 

He turns to you and leans back against the machine, “Shit, my mom sent me to work with my uncle for two weeks to buy her a new dress. Remember that? I was too exhausted to hang out or do anything cause I would come home late every night.” he beams. 

“I thought you hated my guts, all because you were too embarrassed to explain what happened.” you both laugh at your naive 12 year old selves. That summer when Ramón ruined his sister’s clothes was also the summer the two of you had met at a flea market, neither having a clue of just how important you’d be in each other’s lives as you grew up together. 

From the corner of your eye, you notice a newspaper flap down and ruffled back up to the face of its reader, sitting only four machines away from the two of you. You turn your head slightly, noting she was a skeptical old woman, her beady blue eyes examining the closeness between you and your boyfriend over her newspapers. Ramón notices too, “Hey, why don’t you buy something to eat at the diner we passed by earlier? I’ll meet you by the car, yeah?” he quietly suggests, dark eyes urging you to get out. 

You sigh and nod, quick to leave the 24-hour laundromat before attracting any more attention. After briefly questioned by the town’s police chief earlier, the two of you were on edge, but not unaccustomed to this sort of small town demeanor. In two towns you’ve driven through, Ramón was directly warned of sticking around after dark when they’d see he was alone. In three others, you were followed and watched. If there was any slight affection shown between you two, you’d be shunned and driven out before matters turned violent.

As you get closer to the diner, you watch a group of kids run out of an alley behind a german shepherd with a baseball in his mouth. They run in between cars, yelling at each other to catch the dog and apologize to annoyed drivers. You stop as you watch them corner the animal into the entrance of a hair salon, not noticing the two boys who stopped to watch the commotion next to you. “I don't know why Henry always lets his dog out this time of day.” the voice from behind you startles you.

You turn around to see two boys, the taller one punching his friend on the shoulder. “Oh sorry man, we didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” the curly haired boy apologizes. 

“It’s okay.” you offer a tight-lipped smile to both.

“Cool, I’m Chuck and this tent pole calls himself Auggie.” he points a thumb at his annoyed companion, “You’re not from around here, are you?” he continues. 

“Chuck, you don’t have to interrogate the guy seconds after meeting him.” Auggie complains and sends you an apologetic look. 

“Nah, it's fine. I’ve been on the road with a friend and we stopped here for a bit.” you explain, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket. 

“See Augs? Been telling you we should go on a road trip.” Chuck glares at his friend. 

Auggie rolls his eyes, “As if your Elmer’s Glue mom would ever let you leave town without her.” he grumbles, dodging Chuck’s jabs at his face immediately after. 

You laugh, “So uh, do you guys have any recommendations from this place?” you point at the diner behind them.

“Oh, you should try out their ham sandwiches, the greatest thing ever.” Chuck advises as the three of you walk inside. 

Auggie pushes the menu to your hands, “I’d say you avoid the onion rings here, I don’t trust them.” he points to the bottom of the paper.

Considering the boys’ serious opinions about the food, you head for the counter and ask for two ham sandwiches, a side of fries and two drinks. Chuck orders a chocolate milkshake, much to the disappointment of Auggie and they begin to bicker over who’s really eaten what before. After checking the clock on the restaurant’s blue wall, Chuck reassures you about the quality of the sandwiches one last time before rushing out behind Auggie, the two needing to go “meet someone for something tonight”.

After getting your food, you walk to Ramón’s car, only to find it empty. You peer inside the laundromat, still unable to spot the boy. You hear a familiar whistle to your left and see Ramón walking over to you from the end of the street. “Almost started to freak out, thought something happened to you or maybe you got lost.” you mention, handing him his drink.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he reassures you, “plus, I found this cool tree.” he motions you to follow him. Ramón leads you through two blocks before stopping at the edge of town, overlooking the woods. 

“Ramón, this place looks like its where people dump bodies.” you joke, bending down to survey an old fox hole underneath the roots of a tree. 

“If we see one, we’ll just get haunted for the rest of our lives together, alright?” he smirks and points to a tall tree several feet away. “That’s the one I’m talking about.” 

The branches of the tree in question twist in all directions, some long enough to swoop down and nearly touch the ground. You watch as Ramón sets his drink on one of the large branches, positions a foot against the thick trunk and begins to climb the old tree. He makes his way to a third branch and sits, “Toss me the bag.” he waves his hands.

“I swear if you don’t fucking catch it…” you mumble and give him the stink eye, tightening the rolled top of the paper bag. You hold your breath and throw the bag up, surprised when he actually manages to catch it. 

“You guys always doubt me on whether or not I can catch stuff.” he complains, already munching on a fry.

You put your drink where Ramón put his and begin the climb up. “Yeah well,” you huff, hands on the rough bark, “nobody…” you pull yourself up, “does after you let-”. You almost lose your footing, but you’re able to hold yourself steady after finding a knot, “-after you let that stupid water balloon slip and got all of us in trouble.” you continue, catching Ramón roll his eyes. You finally manage to sit next to him and find half of the fries gone.

“This stuff’s good.” he comments halfway through his sandwich. You bite into yours and nod, mentioning the two boys who recommended it. 

The two of you finish your food and look down the street as people walk about on their typical Thursday afternoon. The sunset on the opposite side of Mill Valley reminds you of the one you'd both watch together back home. Your heart twitches at the thought of home, but you shake it off before you get your head stuck in it for the rest of the night. You don’t realize how exhausted you are from driving last night until you lean back against the tree trunk and immediately feel your eyelids get heavy. You ask Ramón to wake you up in 20 minutes and nod off.

Nearly an hour later, you wake up to darkness and bitter wind. You feel Ramón’s head on your lap and a stick digging into your back. “Hey,” you whisper, “wake up, we fell asleep.” you run a hand through his hair. 

Ramón slowly sits up, “Ah, we gotta go dry the clothes.” he yawns and rubs an eye. The two of you gather your trash and carefully make your way down the tree in the dark. You grab Ramón’s arm when he nearly stumbles on an exposed root, then you hear it. Footsteps behind you. 

You turn your head, seeing nothing within the trees with whatever light the moon offers. “Come on, we gotta get out of here.” you rush out, focusing on the quiet street ahead of you. The street wasn’t as busy as it was earlier, you can see only a few people mill around and several cars driving through. Ramón mentions leaving as soon as the clothes were dry, which makes you dread being on the dark road again.

The laundromat is also nearly empty when you reach it, with only two women gossiping by their dryers and a toddler fast asleep inside a basket. You and Ramón take out the clothes from the machine and make your way to a dryer when you notice her again, the same old woman eyeing you over her newspapers. Ignoring her, you stuff the clothes inside the dryer and start the cycle. 

The gossiping women soon leave with their clothes and the sleepy child. This left you and Ramón alone in awkward silence with the old woman, the only noise coming from the dryer and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you.

“I’m gonna go to the restroom, you okay here?” Ramón asks, also growing wary of the old woman. You give him a thumbs up and slide down against the set of dryers behind you, which at least put the suspicious woman out of sight. 

As soon as Ramón is gone, you hear something small drop and roll. From the rows in front of you, you see a penny roll towards you and hit your shoe, landing with Lincoln’s head up. You pick it up and hear the old woman cough, rattling her newspapers. Next, her chair groans and creaks. She coughs again, this time seemingly closer. You look up and see her cold eyes stare at you from behind the row of washing machines. She shuffles closer, her nose coming into view along with the dry skin of her pale cheekbones peeling off. The old woman coughs again and raises her thin eyebrows.

“You’re quite the handsome young man, aren’t you?” she utters, her voice sounds as if though it droned from a radio.  

You’re at a loss for words, “Knew a fella who looked quite like you.” the old woman continues. She begins to walk down the row, her unblinking blue eyes stay on you. The buzzing lights above you flicker momentarily and you can hear the newspapers fold and unfold in her hands. “Oh yes,” she hisses, “I believe he went missing about forty years ago.” 

You stand up when she gets to the end of your row of dryers. “Would you like to see where I last saw him?” she asks, seemingly upset when you shake your head. Behind her, Ramón exits the restroom and freezes in place, his eyes dart between you and her. He slowly makes his way around the old woman, “You know, he was also accompanied by a pretty boy, just like him.” she drawls and points at Ramón.

Ramón walks back to you at a gradual pace, not wanting to take his eyes off of her. She lets the newspapers fall to the beige tile floor. The front page slides to Ramón's feet. Looking down, you take into account the front headlines screamed of an Indiana coal mine disaster, killing 51.

“1925…” Ramón whispers, you look back to the old woman who was now only a few feet from Ramón.

She grins, “Let me get that.” and bends down, bony arms reaching for the worn paper. You grab Ramón's arm and pull him back when the old woman stays in the angled position, her long nails raking over the paper. You hear a resounding crack throughout the laundromat. You look around thinking it came from one of the machines, but bring your attention back to the old woman when you feel Ramón’s arm shake under your hand.

Her shoulders twitch, her hands shake and she emits another loud crack from her body. She moans, her spine visibly begins to twitch and she stands upright, her eyes trained on you again. The old woman moans again and her open jaw becomes loose, exposing what seems to be multiple rows of teeth inside.

The lights flicker again, “We gotta get the hell out now.” you tug at Ramón's sleeve. Without hesitating, the two of you run for the front door, the sound of feet hitting metal following close behind you. 

You feel nails snap at your ankles and three hands on your leg yank you down. Ramón, who has made it outside already, seems to struggle in opening the jammed door. His fists begin to hit the glass, accompanied by a string of incoherent spanish cursing. The flickering lights inside the laundromat go out completely with a loud crackle. The only source of light is a street light that pours into the business, giving you some clarity of the hissing four-armed abomination of what used to be an old woman, still tugging at your leg. “You won't get to hear my story.” it garbles, eyes rolling back.

“Fuck-” you kick at it's face twice, “your story.” you scramble up and out of the laundromat, running straight into Ramón's arms. There's no time for an embrace as it drags itself right behind the two of you, hot on your heels. 

You both head for the car, but with the slicing at your bloody ankles, it won't give either of you a chance to get in. The two of you decide to run down the now-empty street, heading for the woods. “Don't ya wanna hear what I'll eventually do to you fellas?” it yowls. 

“You won't do shit!” you hear a voice behind you, immediately followed by the sound of metal hitting flesh. You and Ramón stop and turn around to see two kids in Halloween costumes. A spider holds a metal bat and swings at the monster again, while a clown rushes to both of you. You recognize the clown as one of the kids you met earlier, his face full of concern and fear. 

“Auggie?” you ask, feeling Ramón's hand on your shoulder.

“No time to explain.” Auggie blurts and motions to his friend beating the convulsing monster. Ramón joins him, he takes out his lighter and drops it on the distorted body. It screeches and crawls off to the woods in flames before Chuck can get another hit.

Ramón pulls you closer and hugs you, “You okay?” he whispers into your shoulder. 

“Yeah I'm good.” you reassure him and hold him tight.

You pull away from Ramón and turn to the two boys in costume, “What was that and how did you find us?”

“We've heard about this bitch crawling around Mill Valley, but we thought she was just a legend until now.” Chuck explains, baseball bat set on his shoulder.

“Also, we were walking home from our friend's house, then we heard him yelling.” Auggie points to Ramón.

You introduce Ramón to the two and introduce Auggie and Chuck as the “ham sandwich boys” -much to their amusement.

“Alright, you two need to leave, something tells me it'll come crawling back for you.” Auggie says in all seriousness.

“What about you two?” you ask. They couldn't leave, but you were already considering staying to fight the thing off with them. 

“We've got a friend who kinda knows all about monsters. She’ll love to take a crack at this one here in town.”

This makes Ramón turn to look at you with eyebrows raised, “Well we got saved by a clown and a spider, think they got this handled?” you ask, making him laugh.

“Dude, I’m a pierrot.”

“Yeah and I was supposed to be Spider-Man!”

*Feedback is always appreciated!*