#how do I have a whole ass library related to these guys

[preblesboys]

Preble’s Boys: Fighting Men Edition

*disclaimer: haven’t read any biographies yet. These are strictly based off events that they took part in from historical text.*

[i-cant-cast-that-yet]

Y'know, I read a lot of Jiuyuan--or really just anything Shen Jiu in general, and Id like to pitch this idea to the class:

Disciple Shen Jiu who fuckin haaates men, right? Shen Jiu who goes to brothels to sleep bc he just can't around the other boys knowing full well how shit his reputation is bc of it but Fuck You he's gonna do what he has to to get some fucking rest on this shit ass peak of pretentious rich-kids who wouldn't know the tip of their sword from the hilt unless it was jammed in their throats--

Disciple Shen Jiu who's seen just about every flavor of man in the streets both from his nights with his jiejie's and from his time with the Qiu and the slavers, and loathes them with a passion and is, shamefully in his mind, afraid of them.

Standoffish, rude, holier than thou, venom spitting queen with a cruel streak a thinly veiled mile wide, Shen Jiu. A scum villain in the making.

Enter Disciple Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan, in all his millennial transmigrator glory. Hikkikomori ass lame ass chokes on a meatbun and fucking croaks after reading a porn harem web novel for the fucking plot (cough-lbh-cough) Shen Yuan.

This rando ass dude with Shen Jiu's family name--no they aren't related stop asking, Shen Yuan why do you look grossed out do you wanna fight??--

Shen Yuan who doesn't get close to any of his shijie's, bc "Oh they're all gonna be in Bingge's harem at some point, I don't wanna steal the protagonists wives!!"

Shen Yuan, a shut-in nerd in his early to mid 20s, who also shirks any of his shixiong's attention for other reasons. He's not big on sports in the first place, and as cool as swords are they're fucking heavy!!! Where's the training montage skip button, system!?!? All this (ugh) comraderie...he just wants to stay in the library and pretend the scrolls are as interesting as zhongdian was, okay?

Shen Jiu, who sees these avoidant traits in a boy with his name and a face that looks like his and assumes Shen Yuan has the same traumas as him.

He hates men, Shen Yuan included for both the happenstance of his birth and also because he's an idiot, but now he's seeing more of him reflected in this dude and it itches.

Maybe he bullies Shen Yuan like he does Binghe. Maybe Shen Yuan, who isn't actually a teenager in his own head like lbh was and fucking hates the scum villain (he called for castration in one life and he'll do it again!! This life gave him cultivation and a sword, he'll get creative if he has to) fights back.

Puts all that time in the forums to good use and verbally eviscerates the guy. Hits on several sore topics all at once and if it wasn't for the very public scene being caused Shen Jiu might have killed this upstart instead of just throwing a punch and jumping him like he currently is.

And listen. Fighting between peaks is typical. The Qing Jing peak lord of the time could care less if Shen Jiu fights the Liu kid from Bai Zhan--there's history between the peaks as it is. But the two Shens beefing so publically?? That's bad for Qing Jing's image.

Shen Jiu might be hated, but Shen Yuan is adored by several key figures across the sect and this Shizun can't tell if the brat did it on purpose or not but it's troublesome either way. Shen Jiu is here on Zhangmen-shixiong's head disciples request, so she can't get rid of either of them.

So she strategizes. It's like her whole thing.

Qing Jing peak lord-jie sticks the Shen's in the xianxia equivalent of the get along shirt. She makes them go on missions together, do chores together, etc. They'll either snap and kill one another or become friends. She wins either way.

It's bad at first. Blood is drawn, fans are thrown and broken over heads. They're too alike and too different and Shen Jiu sees himself in this kid but also every rich boy who wastes their own potential and privilege that they can't realize they were blessed with and he haaates it. Shen Yuan is pissed bc this ass is cruel and awful but so fucking sympathetic once he's spent enough time around the guy to put some pieces together. Bro loves a problematic blorbo and Binghe was a lot of things in pidw, but the product of Shen Jiu's projection is chief among them and Shen Yuan is getting a whole lot of it right now and it puts a lot into perspective.

...................

This is getting away from me now. It's late. Maybe I'll pick this up later.

[httpino]

hiii everyone! this is my opinion on what college majors each of the konoha 11 + sasuke n the sand siblings have :D + my general college headcanons about them. enjoy!!

p.s. this is a non massacre au so everyone is alive and well

Naruto characters in College

Naruto Uzumaki: Political Science

- he’s obvi into the whole politics thing so it seemed obvious to him to go into polisci

- unfortunate frat brother

- he’s not like the annoying weird ones but he does indulge in a bit of excessive drinking

- even when he’s hokage (think of it as like the president of everything i don’t fucking know) he’ll still do the stupid ass frat greeting if he sees a fellow brother

- barely passing but once he starts studying seriously with sakura, he’s on his grind fr

- he was never stupid, he just has adhd and no idea how to ask for help

- graduates at a decent place n continues on the higher education track (to everyone’s surprise)

Sasuke Uchiha: Business with a concentration in Finance

- he plans on taking over the family business from his older brother since he’s sick and needs to focus on his health

- does not engage in frat business no matter how much naruto begs

- he’s above it all

- he’s less fucked in the head (because his whole family was not senselessly murdered!) so he does like partying n is less antisocial

- non massacre au sasuke is a WHORE idgaf

- will entertain whoever he needs to to get laid

- this is before he starts dating sakura and then he’s like a nun, he does not look in people’s direction at all

- model student, graduates with a ridiculously high gpa

Sakura Haruno: Biology + Chemistry Double Major (pre-med)

- did anyone say overachiever

- she was told she just needed to pick a science if she wanted to do the pre-med track but she said fuck it and chose two

- bordering deranged, the constant homework is getting to her

- very efficient at studying so she’s able to have some semblance of a school-life balance but barely

- she’s spent more nights in the library crying over her homework than she cares to admit

- finds it all easier when she’s with her friends so she, naruto, ino, sasuke, shikamaru, neji, and hinata have a little study circle every night

- model student, legit is the student that her professors tell their students about years after she graduates

- goes on to med school (we love you dr.haruno)

Sai: Art

- obviously

- he’s having a good time here

- once he gets to the point where he’s having to do other art (sculpting for example) he’s losing it a bit

- he’s just a little guy who wants to draw pretty little pictures :(

- the mf who says “ugh i have a drawing due at 11:59” and then promptly gets jumped for having the audacity to complain around sakura

- doesn’t really party, if he does get dragged out, he spends the whole time drawing the scene in front of him

- he has so many drawings of drunk naruto doing stupid shit, he’s compiled it in a little booklet n adds to it

- by the end of college, he has a thick ass book of these drawings (naruto, ino, sakura, and lee being most of the drawings)

- graduates with flying colors (see what i did there) to become ino’s house husband who supports her through med school

Shikamaru Nara: International Relations

- bro did not want to go to college

- literally dragged himself through high school, why would he want to do it all over again but it’s harder???

- anyway he settles on international relations n breezes through it

- his friends wanna strangle him every time he complains about his schoolwork

- sakura’s eye is twitching, tenten is planning his untimely demise, ino is calling him a lazy idiot

- in his defense, he doesn’t really know what’s going on at any given moment

- he does his work on time but that’s only after he has to teach himself everything cause he skips class religiously

- high off his ass the entire four years

- is known around campus, not for his smarts, but because he’s been found sleeping in the oddest places

- there’s an instagram page for sightings of his naps in odd places (that was definitely not started by ino)

- graduates with decent grades and gets a job in the hokage’s office with the power of nepotism and his brain

Choji Akimichi: Culinary Arts

- he’s having a grand time really

- he’s a phenomenal cook and he already knows all the cooking techniques since his dad owns the highest rated restaurant in the country

- literally has never complained about anything a day in his life

- his to go meals are the only thing keeping his friends alive, they all have the diet of a college student which is water, tears, and a side of ramen

- always has excess food left from class so he goes around campus delivering it to the different food banks

- random people know about choji akimichi’s legendary hangover meal

- graduates with flying colors and goes on to take over his father’s restaurant and open one of his own!

Ino Yamanaka: Psychology (pre-med)

- annoying psych major who psychoanalyzes her friends

- drunk off her ass and she’s asking kiba if his attachment to his dogs comes from trying to make up for his terrible relationship with his mother

- is literally always out, no one has no idea how considering all the other psych students are fighting for their lives

- when she meets sai, she’s excited as fuck, she loves a fine ass man with a brain she can pick apart

- a little crazy

- graduates top of her major but it’s a mystery how she did such a thing 

Kiba Inuzuka: Vet science

- picked this because his dog got sick once n he was like bro what the fuck i need to never let this happen again

- actually a really good student contrary to popular belief! (hinata asked him to study with her one time n then it became a routine)

- who said FRAT BOY KIBA!!! (it’s me, i said frat boy kiba)

- chronic day drinker (bro needs to attend a.a meetings)

- gets an internship in the local vet office and he has deep beef with all the cats there

- he thinks they’re evil but the cats just smell dog on him n they do not fuck with it

- graduates at a decent place n goes to vet school (idk how that works, just pretend i do)

Shino Aburame: Entomology

- DUH!!

- bro might as well be a professor, he’s so good with the whole thing

- which is why he becomes a TA by the end of his first year (unheard of btw)

- out of everyone, he’s having the easiest time

- literally goes to class, does his little science classes, studies his little bugs, then comes home to his apartment n thinks about bugs

- he’s attended every seminar about environment so he can pipe up n say that preserving the bugs in each ecosystem could help

- graduates n goes on to get an offer to teach entomology at konoha university

Hinata Hyuga: Communication

- she has no idea what she wants to do

- this was mainly a placeholder till she figured something out

- the required public speaking course nearly took something out of her

- but after all her friends gathered to listen to her speech n cheer her on, she felt so much confidence that she got an amazing grade

- this led to her sticking with comm!

- she picks a focus on media so she ends up working at the tv station (behind the scenes, she’s not a in front of the camera type of girl)

- does great n has study circles with her friends :D

- doesn’t party, doesn’t drink, doesn’t do much of anything but she’ll go out to make sure kiba doesn’t get into a bar fight or something

Neji Hyuga: Physics

- not so sure about this one but idkkk something in my heart says he’s a physics major

- he’s not sure what he wants to do with it but it makes him sound smart when his dad brags to the other parents

- extremely paranoid about missing assignments so he does everything the moment he gets it

- has never been relaxed ever

- time management king

- he got pulled into a study circle and though he’ll NEVER admit it, it’s helped him a lot

- graduates in three years instead of four and goes on to grad school (he’s trying to avoid finding a job)

Rock Lee: Sports science

- DUH!!

- he wants to help injured athletes so why not study how a healthy body is supposed to work while exercising?

- he gets an internship with guy, who’s the athletic trainer of konoha university n he’s everyone’s favorite

- had learned not to complain about his workload around tenten (she broke down and started bawling over her homework and he freaked out)

- graduates with a good gpa and then gets a job with the athletic trainers office

Tenten: Business with a concentration in Entrepreneurship + Engineering Double Major

- this determined ass mf

- she’s been dreaming of creating a weapon that will allow for easy usage while also being tailored to the needs of the user

- so she decides on the business major part to create a business out of it and engineering so she can figure out how to do it herself

- she’s fighting for her life the entire four years of college

- turns down so many parties and invites because her homework is literally a stack the size of her

Kankuro: Political Science + Art History Double Major

- he wanted badly to do art history alone

- but he decides that maybe he does want to be employed in the future

- so he picks up political science as a side thing

- he cheats off gaara so he doesn’t have to focus too much on the polisci portion of his degree

- exchange student (obvi) n he’s indulging in konoha culture

- which is just getting black out drunk on a wednesday evening!

- finishes out college as a decent student, not exceptional but also he’s not terrible

Gaara: Political Science

- literally decides he’s gonna become the kazekage and picks up polisci immediately

- like his siblings he’s an exchange student

- literally doesn’t do any “stereotypical” college things

- doesn’t drink a drop of alcohol, doesn’t dabble in drugs, his most wild weekend is him indulging in TWO red bulls instead of one

- which is why no one is surprised when he graduates top of his class n immediately gets a job in the kazekage’s office where he works his way up

Temari: Meteorology

- just walk with me here

- exchange student from suna

- always found interest in weather patterns considering she lived in a place with such predictable patterns

- like day after day it was all sun, no rain until one random day, there was an absolute downpour before everything went back to normal

- she absolutely went WILDDDD she needed to know what had happened to cause such a thing

- she has no interest in smiling in front of the camera n giving the forecast, she wants to just study what the fuck goes on with the weather

- has a decent workload but she really doesn’t mind it, it gives her an excuse to avoid ino’s constant invites to go out

- one time, she went out n got hammered n slept with shikamaru n then she literally never did that again

- it worked cause she started dating him soon after but still… you can never be too safe

- graduates with a perfect gpa n goes on to become the best meteorologist in the world

[sugurusdiscordmoderator]

Attack on Titan characters and where they would take you on a first date

MDNI 18+ not explicit but sexual encounters implied

Featuring Armin, Jean, Connie, Reiner, Eren, Levi, Erwin, Hange, and Mikasa

Armin:

Bowling! I feel like he cute and awkward and it would just be the two of you but little do you know a few lanes over are all his friends spying because he was sooo excited about getting to know you. He had an extra pair of socks in his car? in case you didn’t wear any so your pretty feet didn’t have to touch the gross shoes! Made out in his car when he dropped you off at your house then walked you to your front door blushing.

Jean:

Taking you to the movies! Total sucker for the yawn & put his arm around your shoulder move. He’s get you whatever popcorn/drink/candy whatever you want. Depending on the movie, if you got sleepy or scared and laid your head on his shoulder and he’d kinda smirk to himself and he thinks he’s got it in the bag. Would try to make out with you in the theater if nobody was there like total teenagers. If reader was willing, definitely would go home with you but would be very respectful to let you know he wants you but doesn’t want to fuck on the first date

Eren

I think maybe a nice walk in a park. On a cold morning and you both bring your dogs after you get coffee at a little cafe his girl friend recommended. He’d give you his scarf if you were cold and I feel like he’d give you the cutest forehead kiss before the most intimate sparks flying kiss on the lips that you forgot it was winter. He wouldn’t end the date until you guys decided when your next date or time he’d see you would be. Second date is dinner at his apartment :)

Levi

I think he’d take you to like top golf or some type of sporting outdoorsy thing? If not top golf maybe a soccer or baseball game? He would help you if you’ve never golfed and like line himself up behind you to show you. He’d “accidentally” brush his lips against your ear/neck to see how you react. Would ask you to grab a drink or something after and would say suggestive things the whole time to watch you blush and squeeze your thighs together! After a few drinks you go back to his nice ass apartment and fuck for hours. You’re attached at the hip after that day and there isn’t even a question about a second date.

Connie

I feel like he’d take you to a basketball game and he’d prepare and buy you a tshirt or jersey ahead of time to change into and then he’d keep telling you how good you look in it <3 he’d ask you if you want to hold his hand & he’d buy you an expensive sports arena drink. You guys end up on the kiss cam and Connie blushes so motherfucking hard you can’t help but giggle. He tells you after that he’s sorry your first kiss was in front of all these people. You have such a good time and neither of you want the date to end so you end up walking around after and back at your place you stay up late all night talking! You make out in between deep conversations and you make popcorn and watch movies. He ends up falling asleep on your couch even though you told him he could sleep in your bed. Sexy ass morning sex and takes you out to breakfast.

Reiner

Study date! Your first date is a little “lame” as other people would put it but you meet him in one of your college courses and he asked you to study biology with him at the library. Asks you for your coffee order ahead of time and brings it to you!! You flirt and giggle a lot while you go over course materials and he walks you back to your apartment after. You tell him you’re ordering takeout for dinner and asks if he wants to join and he does, super lowkey and doesn’t even kiss you. But he does ask for your second date to not be school related

Erwin

Museum or book shop date, something educational! It’s such a cozy vibe and he pushes a piece of hair behind your ear while you’re reading. He asks if you want to meet up with his friends for a happy hour afterwards and thinks it’s funny how polite you are to Hange and Levi. On the walk back to the car he notices you’re chilly and gives you his coat. You end up talking about some book you have and invite him into your apartment to find it. You end up on his lap in a steamy couch make out session but he doesn’t let it escalate even though you want it so bad. He stares so intensely in your eyes and tells you he’s borrowing the book and you will have to see him again to get it back <3

Hange

They ask you to go to a candle making class or some type of crafty workshop. They’re so silly and messy and you both can’t stop laughing. Your pottery/candle/painting whatever you made turns out pretty messed up but you both had fun. They hold your hand as you walk to grab some lunch afterwards. After lunch you go your separate ways and you get a text as soon as you got home saying “can I please see you again?” Hange wouldnt do anything on your first date I feel like but the second date they’re going to kiss you as soon as they knock on your door for the second date.

Mikasa

Asks you to a concert! Some indie artsy person you haven’t heard of at a small venue. She will stand behind you and wrap her arms around your shoulders as you guys sway to the music and she kisses you at the slow songgg. Car sex on the way home. She makes sure like 10 times that you’re okay with it though. She plays with your hair after.

A/N my app is being so stupid so I gave up trying to edit this I’m sorry if there is typos lmaoo

[your-reference-here]

Okay, I know I already reblogged this, but my brain has been absolutely gnawing on this AU's possibilities so I had to write some of my ideas down.

Boq is definitely the DM. He seems like the kind of guy who would have gotten into the game back home and then brought it to Shiz. He tries for weeks to get Galinda to play, but it's not until he mentions it to Nessa, who then mentions it to Elphaba, who THEN mentions it to Galinda that a game comes together. Fiyero tags along too because he's curious...or at least that's what he says. It's not until they actually arrive at their session zero character creation that he rolls up with a fully prepared character sheet and they all realize "oh this guy knows this game."

Here's what I think everyone decides to play:

Galinda = College of Glamour Bard. I put this in my original reblog and I'm sticking with that. The whole subclass just feels like it was made for her.

Elphaba = Wild Magic Sorcerer. I was torn on whether Wild Magic or Divine Soul would be her subclass, but thinking it over more I've decided to say fuck it, give her the Wild Magic Sorcerer build because it fits thematically and because its shenanigans are fun. In universe, my excuse is Boq suggested choosing options that they could relate to as a first time player, so there you go.

Nessa = Order Domain Cleric. In my head, Boq mentions that cleric is his favorite class, so Nessa decides to explore those options. Something about the Order Domain just speaks to her...maybe it's the desire for some control over her own life, maybe it's a dark foreshadow of who she will become later. But who's looking into it that deeply?

Fiyero = Cavalier Fighter. He just wants to kick ass on a horse. It's also a nice way to uphold a "knight in shining armor" appearance for his peers. Galinda loves it, while Elphaba just rolls her eyes and calls him out for being a horse boy.

The first game is a simple fetch quest that quickly goes off the rails. This isn't unusual as far as D&D goes, but it does escalate to a loud enough volume that the crew gets kicked out of the library and has to find another spot to play. This could be a number of places, but I like to think Doctor Dillamond is kind enough to allow them access to his classroom, mostly to keep them all out of trouble and because of his soft spot for Elphaba (he's happy to see her making friends and joining in whatever this strange social club is). His only request is that whatever mess they make is cleaned up before the first class the following day. It's very close once or twice.

Now, in terms of how our cast actually are as players...

Galinda is the confused enthusiast who has no idea what she's doing but is going to do everything with an air of exaggerated flair. This results in her being the unintentional button pusher/trap trigger-er/the one the party is constantly yelling "NO!" at a second too late. Somehow, she always manages to pull through whatever mess she is in or has gotten the entire party in, mostly because she's able to gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss everyone else, including the DM, on a whim.

Elphaba is a born rules lawyer who comes to the game having memorized all her spells and abilities, only to find herself consistently exasperated by Galinda's choices and/or fighting with Fiyero who knows the game so well that he's found countless loopholes to exploit. She does end up having fun but hoo boy does she come close to magically throwing a book at someone's head on multiple occasions.

Fiyero is just vibing and, though he won't admit it out loud, is genuinely having a good time with these people and it's the happiest he's been in a long time.

Nessa is the only one trying to keep the party on track with the plot for Boq's sake, who is beginning to question bringing this particular group of people together.

UPDATE: I just saw the spellbook again in the artwork and was like "shit that's really a wizard thing to have a spellbook" and then I remembered the beauty of the multi-class, so my solution is that Elphaba decides to multi-class later on into a School of Transmutation Wizard.

dnd au request

[greenishghostey]

Snap & Bite

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You'd known Eddie since he moved to Hawkins back in 3rd grade. You guys weren't friends - he likely didn't even know your name anymore. But it's amazing how much you can connect with the town freak when sitting outside the principal's office.

Word Count: 3,618

Warnings: None! This is just a good ol' fluffy meet-cute oneshot

Author Notes: Right, this was meant to be short and sweet but its over 3k, but still, enjoy! I'm not sure if this idea has been done before. But I hadn't seen any fics relating to bonding outside the principal's office which would be on brand for Edward.

///

You had never, in your many years of education, been sent to the principal’s office. Keeping your head and staying out of trouble was all you wanted since school was already rough enough. Being one of the few artsy and “out-there” kids in bumfuck Indiana made you a prime candidate for teasing and general unwanted attention. Whether it was about the few streaks of paint that had gotten on your jeans or the fact that you weren’t willing to help anyone with their art projects - it didn’t matter; any facet of your being was an issue in the eyes of Hawkins’ graduating class of 1984.

None of it had been your fault - well, at least not entirely your fault. Marissa Shannon, in all of her venomous, permed glory, chose a dreary Wednesday to push you to breaking point. Normally, Marissa would make passing comments about you, maybe a few to your face, and be done with it. However, today she had taken it upon herself to cross one boundary you held dear. She touched your stuff, your art stuff. 

You were hunched over your various research notes - a mix of library printouts and battered textbooks, working on one of the essays that would be presented alongside it all. You had only just finished the second paragraph when water soaked the entirety of your desk. The paper immediately darkened, the book covers curled even more, and there was no way in hell you were going to save your essay.

A huge puddle formed across your work, and Marissa’s surprised giggle had you almost seeing red. You didn’t say a word, only staring at her for a few seconds. The urge to retaliate didn’t come in the form of words but rather actions. You picked up your plastic pallet full of almost dried-up paint and hurled it at Marissa’s chest, coating her white polo in various shades of green and brown. 

Her shrieking and lunging at you was the last thing you saw before being sent to Principal Higgins’ office by Mrs Gilmore - not before she made it clear that she “was so so disappointed in you”. Apparently, the whole situation had only been an accident. That may have been true, but it didn’t change the fact that Marissa laughed at you. That was the part that cut the deepest. Even when it wasn’t intentional torment, she still couldn’t say a simple sorry. 

The walk of shame to the office was silent. Your sneakers dragged along the floor, and you shoved your hands in your hoodie pockets. So much for keeping your head down. You’d made it to the final months of being in Hawkins and just had to lose your cool. Also, staining a rich girl’s white top - that was gonna bite you in the ass later. 

Outside of Higgins’ office, there was a small row of uncomfortable plastic chairs against the wall. Those chairs weren’t somewhere you wanted to find yourself. Since freshman year, you’d only seen bleeding boys, crying students and pissed-off parents sitting there. If they called your mom, you were so dead. 

Graduation could not come soon enough. It would be such a sweet relief to leave for art school out in Chicago. You were still dragging your feet when the school receptionist, Ms Prince, nodded in greeting and gestured to the chairs. 

A voice, a boy’s, piped up when you walked through the door, “the hell you doing here?” Your gaze snapped up to meet the wide, confused stare of Eddie Munson. 

Now that you thought about it, you had also seen Eddie sitting on those chairs a lot. He tended to lounge back outside of Higgins’ office - whether he was all beat up or just twiddling his thumbs. Everyone and their mother knew that the boy’s very existence was enough for teachers to send him to the principal's office. It surprised you that he actually showed up instead of going to hibernate in his van. 

You and Eddie were in the same grade and had been since he moved to Hawkins back in third grade. Back then, he was a weedy little kid with shaggy hair who everyone thought was mute or deaf because he never spoke. There had also been a rumour that he was actually a girl, but his parents had wanted a boy, and that’s why he had to live with his uncle. In retrospect, you realised that third graders could be fucking evil. Around sixth grade was when Eddie “the freak” came about. Eddie got taller than the other boys in your class and decided that he’d had enough of cowering in corners. You remembered the first day that he talked back to Ricky Galloway, the ringleader of the bullying. 

Admittedly, Eddie’s comeback to Ricky wasn’t anything amazing; it was some snarky comment about the school’s baseball team always losing. Eddie promptly had an entire lunch tray poured over his head, but he had that manic smile on his face. The smile that made everyone uncomfortable. The smile that made people scared of him. 

Eddie was the antithesis of what you wanted for your last few months in education. So, you ignored his confused question and sat down a few chairs away from him. Talking the town pariah would likely only get you into deeper shit. Your attention turned to a loose thread on your grey hoodie, twirling it around your fingers. The quiet was actually really uncomfortable, but you weren’t going to change that. 

“You okay?” Eddie’s voice cut through the hum of the fluorescent lights above you. He really couldn’t sit still or keep quiet for more than a minute. It wasn’t that he was annoying - you found him strange in an intriguing way. But you just weren’t in the mood to talk at any length. Besides, he didn’t know you.

“Yeah. ‘M fine.” You sighed, eyes still focused on fiddling with the thread. 

“Then how come you’re here? You’re like one of the super quiet girls.” Eddie pressed, also fidgeting like you. He was playing with the heavy, silver rings on his right hand. You’d noticed his eclectic taste in jewellery as it evolved - the pig head ring was actually kind of cool. 

You appreciated that Eddie was still nice, even after curating his infamous title and reputation. He was only the mean and scary dude when it was called for. It was more of an armour rather than his actual personality. 

“Got in an argument with someone in class.” The thread broke away from the seam on your hoodie. God fucking damn it. “Gilmore sent me straight here.”

“The art teacher?!” Eddie sputtered, his voice growing up an octave and making you jump. “Shit, what’d you do? You gotta be her favourite for sure. You shiv someone with a brush?” 

Normally, Eddie’s attempts at lightening the mood wouldn’t have bothered you. It was just him trying to seem less scary. But you were sitting there being reminded of the fact that you were the favourite of the artsy kids. You were one of the super quiet girls, and you had snapped. Hit your boiling point, and it wasn’t quite finished yet.

“What? Because I’m the weird little art girl, so I can’t possibly just argue with someone? Is that it?” You spat, finally turning in your chair to meet Eddie’s wide gaze. “Or, or, no, is it because I’m quiet? Being quiet isn’t because I want to be. It just makes everything easier. You might want to give it a try sometime.” That final comment tumbled from your lips before you could fully think about it. Eddie didn’t deserve to be talked to like trash when he was just trying to be friendly. You took a deep breath, deciding to apologise and explain yourself better, but a snort cut you off. 

Which grew into a full-body laugh. Not like the crazy cackle he did at the basketball team across the cafeteria. This laugh had his eyes wrinkle at the corners and an unrestrained smile worm its way across his face.

You hadn’t had or said anything even a little funny. You’d nearly ripped his damn head off. “Wh-what - am I that pathetic?” Eddie tried to contain his barks of laughter, pressing them down into more of a giggle. No one would ever believe you if you said that you’d seen Eddie Munson giggle.

“Nah, not pathetic at all.” He sighed, finally catching his breath and wiping at his eyes. “I get chewed up by everyone here every day. But, you know, you’re the first person to do it and actually make a decent point.” 

“What do you mean? I basically just told you to shut up.”

“Well, yeah, but you said it in a weird way, and you’re right. Shutting up is easier.” Eddie’s eyes softened as he let his head fall back against the bullet board behind him. A small smile remained on his lips as he went back to fiddling with his rings. You sat in stunned silence, unsure whether or not to keep the conversation going. He’d be well and truly put in his place by you snapping at him, but now you wanted him to talk again. Eddie always spoke in a somewhat cryptic and odd way. You assumed it was because he saw the world a little differently from most people.

“Wasn’t weird, just very direct… and a little mean. Sorry about that. It’s been a shitty day.” You confessed, bringing one of your knees up onto the chair to rest your chin on. Shooting Eddie a tight-lipped smile was the best you could offer, in addition to an apology. 

Another snort came from him; it wasn’t in malice. He was genuinely a bit amused by you. “Thought we were giving quiet a try?” 

“God, you suck, man.” You breathed out a laugh. It was so fast that Eddie nearly missed it, but it caught in his ears and rang through his head. The icy exterior that you were putting up had started to be chipped away - not quite at melting point. “Right, here’s a question, why are you here?”

“Oh, just the Wednesday usual,” Eddie stated matter of factly. “Breathed too loud in math.” Part of you knew that his answer was going to be some degree of teachers being assholes. In junior year, you’d watched Eddie, full of the cold, be marched out of Physics because he kept sneezing. He didn’t even try to defend himself when it was something he couldn’t help. Eddie just dragged himself out into the hallway, waiting to be told off.

“And - and I made eye contact with Gina Lawson.” He added, beginning to speak more with his hands. “That girl hates me. I think she’s convinced by all that cult leader crap that goes around.” Eddie shrugged, trying to brush off the knowledge that his very presence had made a girl so uncomfortable. He had fun when it came to messing with guys who thought they were God’s gift but scaring girls always made him feel a little gross.

“Nah, Gina thinks your trailer is kitted out with furniture made from cheerleader skin.” You joked. “Way worse than just the cult stuff.” You had fully turned in your chair towards Eddie. Talking to him was actually helping you feel a little better about everything. His lightheartedness allowed you to have a much-needed cooling-off period. 

“Huh, that one’s news to me, actually.” Eddie beamed like he was pleasantly surprised by this new stain on his reputation. In your mind, you could imagine him doing a paraphrased version of that one Sally Field speech on one of the cafeteria tables, “I can’t deny the fact you hate me!” 

“Yeah, the girls have upped the ante with you. The skin furniture and blood drinking are the locker room favourites.” Last week before gym class, you had overheard a few girls talking about Eddie and “his cult”. It was like the guy was some kind of vampiric leper that also ate puppies on the weekend. You had to wonder if people could actually hear themselves talking about Eddie. Every rumour and claim was more outlandish than the previous week’s. 

“See, that’s how I know it’s all made-up shit.” Eddie grinned, pointing a finger at you. 

There he went again with his odd way of speaking. Truthfully, you found yourself enjoying the fact that he could keep a conversation going so smoothly, if not a bit strangely. “What part? Is blood drinking your hard limit?” You giggled. 

Giggling wasn’t something you were really known to do. Especially in front of a guy. Wednesday was panning out to be fucking bizarre. 

“The blood is for the sacrifices. Obviously.” Eddie said snarkily. You feel him implying “duh”. “You know how hard AB+ is to come by these days? That’s the man downstairs’s favourite.” You had to give Eddie a lot of credit for being able to commit to a bit. If anything, though, you were actively encouraging him to keep it going. This was the most you’d laughed in a while. 

“It’s AB- that’s the rare type.” You interjected. Catching Eddie slightly off guard if his curious look was anything to go by. He did this thing where he tilted his head like a confused shaggy dog. “AB+ is pretty common. It’s negative that’s the hard to find one. My mom’s a nurse, so yeah.” Your voice trailed off slowly. He didn’t ask about why you’d said that. You shouldn’t have just shared the information. Eddie didn’t care. You had probably ruined the bit; you never were the best with jokes.

“Learn something new every day, huh?” Eddie smirked. He had also shifted in his chair to face you fully. “You ever think about joining a cult? We’ve only got one other girl, Abby, and zero medical knowledge between any of us.” 

His response took you aback for a few seconds. Eddie met your awkwardness head-on and with encouragement. 

“Hmm, tempting. Can I be the official pentagram artist?” You asked. The air of comfort that now filled the stuffy waiting area outside Higgins’ office was a welcome change. Maybe facing the principal - and then your mom later - wouldn’t be so hard. 

The big, almost goofy smile you had become familiar with in the last few minutes appeared on Eddie’s face again. You weren’t entirely sure why he was smiling and laughing with you so much. The laughter was usually directed at you. But he would have understood that better than anyone. Eddie had the town church group ready to throw him in the lake to see if he was a witch at a moment's notice.

“If there’s anyone who gets to take that title away from me, it’s gonna be you.” Eddie asserted. “I remember seeing some of your stuff before. Like that one - the picture of the lake last winter when it nearly froze over. That was yours, right?” 

How did he know that was your work? You hadn’t put a name on it when Mrs Gilmore insisted on displaying it outside her class. Your dad had let you swipe his good camera for the day since you needed to find some artistic inspiration around Hawkins. The town was very much lacking in any form of aesthetic intrigue, so you marched yourself into the surrounding woods. It was a really cold winter last year, and as Eddie reminded you, the lake had the perfect layer of glittery ice and frost over it. The backdrop of leafless trees and the brilliant, crisp blue sky made for a gorgeous contrast and arguably one of the best paintings you’d ever done. 

A painting that Eddie remembered fondly. 

“Yeah, that one was me. How’d you know that, though? I didn’t let Gilmore put my name near it.” You questioned, filled with curiosity now that Eddie was deciding to fully let his mean and scary mask slip away. 

Eddie’s eyes widened suddenly, and his jaw twitched. He knew you hadn’t put your name on it, but he thought you would have at least forgotten that tiny detail. Now he had talked himself into a corner that you had him pressed into - with no escape other than the plain truth.

“That art contest we had in middle school, eighth grade. You won it with that drawing of big cleaning in the woods near the trailer park.” Eddie admitted, back to fidgeting slightly, but this time with the ends of his hair. “You paint trees and clouds the same way.” 

It was true; you did. Back in seventh grade, your art teacher caught onto your love for the subject and taught you neat little painting tricks for landscapes. To this day, tree trunks and every form of cloud was painted in that same style. It was a subtle little marker of your work. No more than some purposeful brush strokes, a bit of smudging and an ungodly amount of colour mixing. The fact that Eddie - the guy who you assumed didn’t even remember your name - remembered how you painted fucking bark was-

It was-

It just was. That was all your mind could string together from the information.

“I’m really surprised that you remember that. Like, no one’s ever noticed any of the little things I do.” You gaped, still in shock at Eddie’s words. “The way I do clouds is something that Gilmore fucking despises, actually. Says I shouldn’t use my hands so much.” 

“Well, that makes it even more sick.” Eddie smiled, knocking his knuckles against the chair between the two of you.

“You entered that art contest too, though, didn’t you?” You asked, raising your brows at the now shy boy beside you. You remembered that he entered, but you couldn’t remember what he had painted. 

Eddie was picking at the stray threads on his ripped jeans now. “Ah-ha, yeah. I did the gnarly-looking dragon painting. Had messed up wings and bloody teeth and everything.” He laughed nervously as he recalled his early attempt at art. Eddie had gotten a hell of a lot better with his drawing since then. 

“I actually really liked that one. You actually did something you thought was cool instead of just the standard fancy-schmancy art choices.” You reassured with a soft chuckle. “It was that other thing, though, yeah? Because it had two legs instead of four.”

Eddie was going to start getting dry eyes with how much his were widening that afternoon. First, you play along with his super mega satan blood cult schtick. Now, you remembered that his painting wasn’t of a dragon but a wyvern. A big difference that not many run-of-the-mill folks would know. A winged lizard thing was a dragon, end of story. Centuries-old folklore be damned. 

You stared as Eddie hastily started pulling off his leather jacket and heavily decorated denim vest. He was damn near ripping the clothing off so he could get to the patch of skin on his arm that might impress you a little. 

“What the fuck are do-” You started hesitantly. A guy started hauling his layers off. You’ll be a bit on guard even if said guy was Eddie - the apparent big softy.

“That drawing I did. I did a better one last year.” Eddie explained, down to his long-sleeved black t-shirt and quickly yanked one of the sleeves up. The majority of his arm was exposed before you saw it. On the back of his bicep was a hissing, scaly wyvern tattoo. “Can’t believe I forgot where I got the idea for this bad boy from.” He grinned, proudly thrusting his arm closer to you. 

You quickly leaned over the empty chair, itching the get a better look at his arm. Tattoos always interested you, and you planned to get one once you got to Chicago next year. They were still illegal to get in Indiana, but it didn’t surprise you even a little that Eddie was covered in ink.

“Dude. You drew that?” You chirped, grabbing Eddie’s arm and moving it so you could see the full wyvern. “This is fucking cool! Did you do the shading and detailing too?” 

Eddie could feel a distinct, yet somewhat foreign, heat crawling up his neck. You had his arm in a firm grip, which was skin-to-skin contact. He was eighteen; sue him. He nodded enthusiastically to your artistic questions about that particular tattoo and if he had others. 

Neither of you took notice of principal Higgins exiting his office to call one of you inside. He stood there, tiredly watching two of the oddest children he had ever met bonding over illegally done tattoos. After about thirty more seconds of observation, Higgins cleared his throat loudly, causing you and Eddie to flinch back into your seats. 

“Good afternoon, students.” Principal Higgins greeted coldly. “Munson, you first. Get moving.” He gestured for Eddie to follow him as he floated back into his stuffy little office. It stank of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener - to try and cover the cigarette smell.

Eddie raised his eyebrows at you and gave you a little wave as he stood up - collecting his various layers of jackets as he went. You weren’t entirely ready to have your interaction with Eddie Munson finish there. 

“Hey?” You whispered, waving your hand to get his full attention. “Good luck in there.” 

Eddie only snorted and shot you that genuine toothy grin you had started to like quite a lot. He pointed into Higgins’ office, then at himself, then mimed a noose around his neck. All of it done with a mischievous glint in his warm brown eyes. 

You giggled again. Eddie “the freak” Munson was the first person to make you giggle. 

[aurilvs]

dream & their godly parents

warnings: blades swords swearing gay shit mentions of kissing and food I think

note: love pjo and nct sooo yeah

마크<3

defo big 3

i think Poseidon is the best match

in chilling in the dream

how he was ok with the cold ass water

ma boi yes.

when he finds out ab being able to control water

(also surprised he can talk w horses)

“whoa dude- what just happened”

“u have powers” “wtf”

also … his spider-sense

very agile in combat

outside the arena……

clumsy somehow??

different story for another day

don't let him near bows and arrows

my guy how did u manage to break 4 bows in the span of 3 minutes

he is clearly as confused as you are

“dude I'm as lost as u”

our Canadian boy<3

런쥔<3

did I make this whole post just to vent ab child-of-athena!renjun

ummm… ofcourse

every sane person would do that right ????

right????

n e gays

very smart

book and street

gives the best advice

very calm…. is……. yeah no one believed that

shouts a lot but outside of libraries

if u disrespect libraries u are done w him

gets lost in thought a lot

lots of spacing out

probably planning his next murder but u didn't hear it from me

very skilled w bow and arrow

with swords….. not so much

very charming in an unexpected way

loves owls bc they remind him of his mom

has read harry potter

avid hater

(has secretly watched the half blood prince 13 times and has a ppt of 40 slides ab why its the best movie)

ace <3

does not care ab sex

제노<3

big 3

100%

he is the one with the most Zeus vibes

or ares maybe

but I don't see him being conflictive

but he is sharp? if that makes sense

(it does not ik)

but yeah

very scary looking

has a reputation for being good at close combat

biggest softie ever

can sometimes control electricity

gets called sparkly fingers by jaem

bc when he's nervous he fidgets w the electricity

gets along w jaemin bc jaemin was very anti-social

and he was a social butterfly with no real friends

they are inseparable now

rumor says they make out sometimes but u didn't hear it from me

bi wife energy but he's the bi wife

동혁<3

an Afrodite kid if I ever saw one

when he arrived to camp

he was the moment

the initial thought was that he was gonna be mean

bc that's how movie logic works

pretty= mean

don't blame me blame Hollywood

but he is an actual ray of sunshine

gets confused a lot w apollo kids

bc ma boi has pipes

gets along w everyone

but is not afraid to stand up for his friends

very extroverted and witty

has a good sense of humor and is street smart

met mark just as they were both discovering their powers

when he is close to a person he can see who they have feelings for

safe to say he saw Jeno and jaem

stuck w mark bc he could relate to him

ended up being soulmates

hyuck is a ray of sunshine

재민<3

hades…

yes

he is powerful and he knows that

likes that he can inspire fear

On the inside he loves romcoms and cries every time he watches the notebook

big softy

tsundere!!

was not close to a lot of people

no one except his brother and sister (irene and yoongi)

they adore each other so much

it's like they have their own language

but he had like o friends so when jeno approached him

he was surprised to say the least

likes being accompanied in silence

haTES small talk

would very much rather talk ab ones purpose on earth

or death too (pun kinda intended

talks ab deep shit w renjun

who he met through jeno

jeno says his coffee order comes from the depths of hell

(funny u say that )

jaem switches their drinks to see the disgusted expression on jeno’s face

(a simps behavior)

천러<3

apollo kid??

yeah

doesn't really fit in w his siblings

bc he has a darker aura

people mistake him for an ares kid

but he loves his siblings and his siblings love him

as an apollo kid he can sing v well

beautiful voice

but kinda shy to sing live

not scared to approach others

but prefers staying in his circle

really likes daggers

and is vv good w them

he trained mark for a bit

and then gave up bc he realized the canadian is helpless w any dagger or bow or anything except swords for a reason

arrived at camp w jisung

been stuck by the hip ever since

I see chenle where is jisung 🤨🤨 oh there he is hi ji

constantly giving each other gifts

fun fact his dagger was a jisung gift when they were finding their preferred weapon

lowkey like each other

they spend time near the auditorium

(word on the street says they make out sometimes but u didn't hear it from me)

i love chenle

지성<3

CHILD OF ARESSSSS

tell me u don't agree🤨

impossible

cute but agile

he is vv shy tho

when he battles completely transforms

extremely talented w swords

when he first picked up one

he felt complete??

idk that's what he told chenle

his sword is made of celestial bronze

takes care of it more than his life

his sword was a gift from his dad

but his dad sent it by chenle

chenle jokes that he is the best gift-giver ever

training and fighting is very therapeutic for him

98% of the time is in the arena when he is not with chenle

trains with the straw dummies when he has a lot on his mind

“training w straw dummies is very mundane so it helps me think”

he is on the younger side out of all the campers

but has more experience than most of them

[books-and-catears]

I’m back to cause more chaos! :D (You did my Savage MC so well, how could I not return?)

My idea for this request shall be head cannons of the Brothers reacting to an Mc that’s just over everything. Threats from other demons (including the brothers) don’t phase her. She’ll either have a blank expression or say something like:

Demon: I could kill you right now! 👿

MC:*smiles and raises eyebrows* Then do it. Put me out of my misery right now 😃

Since MC’s died before, she’s just not concerned about her life anymore and would say concerning things like:

“How messy do you think my corpse would leave the ground if I jumped from this ledge? 🤔”

“Go ahead and kill me, you’re making things easier for both of us ☺️”

“I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for my relation with Lilith, I would still be dead....So close *pouts* ”

When someone asks why she’s like this she just explains with a soft smile and empty eyes about the shit she went through in the Devildom and that she’ll never be the same person she was before she was forced there. “You can’t blame me for being fucked up. I’m just accepting it 😀”

(This is only if you feel comfortable doing this, I understand if you’re not since this can be touchy to other readers)

Oh my god. I was literally thinking about writing something like this three days ago but I got stupid college assignments and completely forgot. I relate to this so much I feel like you and I share a good amount of brain cells thank you so much for this ❣️❣️

Warning: Mention of death, suicidal thoughts

Lucifer: MC, you're late again. How many times do I have to tell you to maintain curfew?

MC: I was busy helping Solomon, Lucifer so lay off me and go scare someone else.

Lucifer: You dare talk to me in that tone of voice?! Is that how you're supposed to talk to me?!

MC: Oh great Sir Lucifer, I've seen death, you see. You will have to do more than just threaten me now.

Lucifer: *shocked* MC... I wasn't....

_______________________________________

Mammon: *seeing MC in a scuffle with a lower demon*

Mammon: MC! How many times do I have to tell ya to not pick fights with other demons!?

MC: *laughs* Why? Cause they aren't related to Lilith and so won't spare my life?

Mammon: MC...no...

MC: Honestly I'd rather be killed for being me than be kept alive in someone else's memory so go away Mammon.

Mammon: *tearing up* MC don't say that... *Holds your hand tight while taking you back home*

_______________________________________

Levi: MC for the last time, stop killing your character within 5 minutes of playing!!

MC: Sorry I can't help it. It's not like I can die that easy in real life!

Levi: ...what?

MC: Ah man these characters are lucky! Look just one little bomb and dead! *kills character again*

Levi: *quitting the game, hanging his head low* Let's a play a different game, okay?

________________________________________

Asmo: MC, would you like to join me in bed tonight? ;)

MC: Sure only if you choke me.

Asmo: Ah that's kinda kinky-

MC: Choke me like Belphie did.

Asmo: *horrified* MC, honey, no!

MC: Come on! Think of it as a kink!

Asmo: *distraught* Stop it MC! We're going to cuddle and kiss and you'll stop talking about this! *drags you and cuddles you tight to himself, softly sobbing*

_____________________________________

Beel: MC, you're standing too close to the edge there!

MC: How messy do you think my corpse will be if I drop from here, Beel?

Beel: *wide eyed* MC what-

MC: Oh my bad, can't have you watch your sister die in front of you again, can we? Ah man *pouts* why did I have to have her bloodline... You could have eaten me so long ago!

Beel: *breaking down in tears* MC no... please...MC just come back inside...*picks you and holds you tight to safety*... MC I would never eat you...

______________________________________

Belphie: MC what's wrong? Why won't you hug me back?

MC: *dry laugh* Sorry Belphie, it's just not the same without you berating my worth and choking me to death.

Belphie: *looks away hurt* ... I'm sorry.

MC: Maybe you can do me a favour instead of half assed apologies.

Belphie: Favour? Sure I can do that.

MC: Do us both a favour and kill me, will you? No more apologies for you, no more worthless living for me, how about that?

Belphie: *buries his head into his pillow* I'm sorry MC... I'm sorry...

________________________________________

Simeon: MC this is the third day you've eaten Solomon's cooking.

MC: Well it's not death, but it's close enough.

Solomon: Wait what?

Simeon: MC...

Luke: *crying and screaming* IM GOING TO KILL THOSE DEMONS! LOOK WHAT THEY DID TO MC!

MC: *pats Luke's head* It's okay Luke, I'm safe here with you guys right?

Luke: YES! THOSE DEMONS WON'T SEE YOU AGAIN!

______________________________________

Satan: MC I'm worried about the books you've been borrowing from the library lately.

MC: *sitting in the middle of books about lethal poisons and easy killing methods* Ah I wonder why~

Satan: Do you think I didn't notice how much you changed after your ressurection?

MC: Well good for you Sherlock. Say have you ever rage killed anyone? Cause I would love to volunteer.

Satan: MC stop. *Holds their hand* Don't be this way.

MC: *lifeless eyes and softly smiling* Try being brought to a whole new world without warning, getting ridiculed and threatened and made to feel weak by people you clearly you want to cherish, and then getting manipulated and killed by the person you only wanted to save.

Satan: *runs his fingers on your palm, listening*

MC: And then! Being brought back to life and told that you were spared for the sake of a dead stranger, who you have to replace.

Satan: *smiles sadly* Does being thrust into existence with a head full of memories and a heart of full anger and pain that isn't yours come close enough?

MC: ... Well a little. *holds his hand back*

Satan: You and I are more similar than you think. Our voices are but echoes of someone else's call. But it doesn't have to be that way always. Don't let it damage you like this.

MC: Ah well the damage is done. And I'm too tired to fix it, so I accept it instead. *dry laugh*

Satan: Well let me watch over this damaged soul then. *Brings out their favourite book* And for now let's read this instead.

MC: Can we go play with the cats later?

Satan: Of course, MC.

Hope this was okay! :') Really loved writing this thank you for the asks 😭😭😭😊😊😊😊

[zomboivex]

You can love and dislike aspects of a character at the same time.

I love and dislike MC at the same time. I love and dislike Leo at the same time.

I full stop love Rui, though. Sorry.

But to get to my actual point-

I agree with majority of this post. I think that MC has a right to be how she is and her character is actually well-written. I don’t view her as a self-insert because I would be dead in her shoes fr.

I would have slapped Taiga probably the first second I saw his ratty ass on that train and he would have killed me on the spot.

If that didn’t kill me, a heart attack from fucking Takeru’s ghost would have done the job because that fucker nearly got me in real life with that jump scare and uncanny ass art LMFAOOO

I think MC has some faults. Namely, I don’t think she’s as proactive as she could be. Even with the lack of help from professors or the majority of the ghouls. But it could be because we don’t typically see what she does with her time when she’s not on life-threatening missions.

I’m curious as to what research she does. There’s a whole library. Does she utilize it? We know she looks in WikeHive but that’s just gossip crap. She could ask some of these guys directly about things. And I’m not saying the fucking rude ass ones or severely stubborn ones. But I’m sure if she asked Kaito, Lucas, Haru, Tohma, Alan, Subaru, Haku, Zenji!!!!!!!, Rui, Lyca, Yuri, and Jiro some questions that aren’t clash related they’d be inclined to help.

I only ever see her prying for clash related questions and never, “Hey! Where could I find some reliable information to idk assist with my investigations”.

My problem with her is that she doesn’t think long enough about her situations to benefit herself. But that’s a character flaw (and also a writing design to keep us, the consumer, at the edge of our feet).

I think you can both love and hate the MC. But you should do so with maybe a bit more critical thinking than “she bad cause I would do differently and she’s supposed to be me!!!!”

No. She’s not you. Sorry to burst your bubble. Cause if she was you and you called the shots- chances are you’d be dead. Taiga would have killed you. Sorry.

okay im going to rant a bit about Tokyo Debunker players that kept saying the mc is a pushover and doormat and she needs to grow a backbone because one: what the fuck do you expect her to do?

Imagine this, the saddest moment of your life before darkwick is you about to go home after a concert of your fave band disbanding and now the saddest moment of your life is that thinking you're useless because you can't be any of help to the people who you're supposed to be helping ever since you got cursed and helping them apparently could get the cure to your curse.

and oh btw the guys that needs your help with their work and will verbally abuse you just messaged you 15 times you should get to that

SHE IS CURSED PEOPLE, IF SHE WANTS TO LIVE SHE HAS TO HELP THEM NO MATTER THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF WHAT THEY SAY TO HER

I'm so sick of these people ranting about how so much pushover of a person the mc is but then defend fucking leo kurosagi because his character is "interesting"

i mean don't get me wrong, you can love Leo's character but that doesn't mean that you should shit on the girl because she's nice and tries to be kind despite some of the guys here being an absolute asshole and defend Leo when he himself uses his only best friend for his benefit and amusement

the people that says this to the mc don't even try to call out the fact that these men doesn't need to be assholes in general

"oh but she still has to stand up for herself" WHEN SHE DOES SHE GETS SHOT DOWN IMMEDIATELY AND SHE CAN'T DEFEND HERSELF BECAUSE AGAIN SHE NEEDS TO BUILD A RAPPORT WITH THEM AND DEFENDING HERSELF MEANS SHE'LL DESTROY WHAT SHES BUILDING BECAUSE THESE GUYS ARE PRIDEFUL THAT AVATAR OF PRIDE LUCIFER HIMSELF

like for example Haku he was not mean to her and in fact one of the most mature character in this game because he understands what she's going through, but the other guys despite being treated with absolute kindness treats her very shitty and verbally abuses her on a daily

you can't excuse their behavior as boys being boys either because you got to realize THEY ARE GROWN MEN.

okay i got a little sidetracked with my tangent there but yeah thats all i want to say, uhhh fuck people who hates mc like that

[likeshipsonthesea]

mianmian gets to the lan sect lectures, discovers very quickly that every one of her peers has decided to use this time to figure out how quickly they can get into bed with someone of the opposite sex, and decides almost immediately that she has to pick a suitably unattainable guy to have a crush on.

the thing is, mianmian is lanling jin’s head disciple. she is capable, intelligent, and very very gay. the last of these things she isn’t exactly keen on telling people yet for a variety of reasons up to and including jin zixuan will be so awkward and stubbornly supportive about it and she doesn’t know how to deal with that yet

so when her friends giggle over the other young masters and finally turn to mianmian-- who’s trying to memorize at least some of the fifty-thousand rules before their quiz tomorrow--and they ask her, “who do you like, mianmian?” she says the name that she carefully picked out of a handful of options.

“lan-er-gongzi,” she says, without looking up from her textbook, and she assumes that will be the end of it. 

lan wangji is both incredibly attractive and unrelentingly resistant to all attempts to flirt with him. she, like half the other female cultivators, can moon over him (or pretend to moon over him) all they want and nothing will come of it. it’s perfect. she’s a genius. the worst she’ll have to do now is pretend to be infatuated with him when her friends start gossiping. it’s fool proof.

spoiler: it’s not

it’s not, no, because her friends are horrible and immediately start gossiping about it to everyone, and usually mianmian wouldn’t care but then jin zixuan finds out. jin zixuan, whose marriage complex is being brought to center stage with the forced proximity to his bride-to-be. jin zixuan, who for some reason decided he has to live his stolen crush-addled youth vicariously through his only real friend that isn’t related to him. jin zixuan, who for some godforsaken reason takes it upon himself to contrive situations for mianmian and lan wangji to be alone together incessantly.

it unfortunately takes mianmian longer than she would like to figure out what’s happening. she’d give herself a break for it-- she was being responsible and studying, thank you very much-- but she doesn’t have much sympathy for her own stupidity seeing as she’s currently locked in a section of the lan library with the second jade of lan

and suddenly, suddenly she’s just so fucking tired. of studying, yeah, the tests here are brutal and there’s no one to bribe to make sure she doesn’t lose points on stupid things, but also tired of lying to the people she loves and tired of training this hard and being an amazing cultivator only for people to care more about her eventual marriage-- to a man of all things!-- and also, let’s be real here, she’s been in lectures with beautiful capable intelligent women for like months and she’s losing her gay ass mind

and so maybe, possibly, as she’s locked in a library with a clearly confused and annoyed second jade of lan she kind of, momentarily, loses it and rants all of this at his steadily widening eyes

at the end of it, she realizes with no small amount of panic that she’s just confessed not only her attraction to women but the fact that she’s been letting wen qing’s ears of all things distract her from her studies. if anything, she’s sure lan wangji will fault her for inattention

but the second jade of lan, after a drawn-out moment filled only with mianmian’s labored breathing and rising panic, simply says, “i understand.”

mianmian stops. she squints. she tilts her head. she squints some more. lan wangji’s ears go pink and just like that she realizes -- “you’re a cut-sleeve.”

lan wangji’s ears go even pinker. he doesn’t nod, or agree, or outwardly react in any way, but mianmian is a capable, intelligent cultivator, and she’s sure of it.

mianmian sighs with a relief she didn’t know she could feel. “thank the gods.”

lan wangji doesn’t seem to know what to make of this response, or mianmian’s increasingly frequent trips to the library following their conversation, or mianmian’s staunch determination to befriend the guy, but that’s alright. mianmian is old hat at befriending awkward sect heirs by this point.

it’s not like lan wangji expressed any desire for her friendship, but the prospect of not being the only one with absolutely no interest in the straight shenanigans happening at gusu lan summer camp is enough to let mianmian ignore his obvious confusion. lan wangji is a great listener and only sometimes blushes when mianmian waxes poetic about the beautiful women she’s forced to surround herself with every day

“no but you don’t understand,” mianmian insists, alone in the library with lan wangji, “jiang-guniang asked me to help her with a sword form. i put my hands on her waist. i said something idiotic bc she was so pretty and right there and then she laughed. lan wangji. i’m in love.”

“yesterday you were in love with wen-guniang,” lan wangji says as he impassively turns a page in his book. “has this changed?”

“no, i’m in love with both of them. all of them. lan wangji. they’re all so pretty all the time. it’s horrible.”

lan wangji presses his lips into a firmer line, which mianmian’s come to understand means he’s repressing a smile. “i’m sorry to hear it brings luo-guniang such trouble.”

mianmian groans, fairly undignified, but that’s a lost cause with lan wangji at this point anyway. “i swear, if jin zixuan says one more bad thing about her i’m going to punch him and marry her myself.”

lan wangji says, “mn,” which mianmian takes to mean that he supports her in this line of thinking, which she finds both quite sweet and ridiculously funny.

grinning, she teases, “lan-er-gongzi, if i do end up marrying jiang-guniang, will you bear witness to our elopement?”

lan wangji’s lips press again, this time in the way that means he’s repressing a frown. “jiang-guniang’s brothers wouldn’t allow for an elopement,” he says.

mianmian huffs. “as if yunmeng or lanling will deign to host our wedding.”

lan wangji appears to ponder this for a moment before he says, “gusu will host it,” and it’s at that moment that mianmian realizes she’s actually gone and fucking befriended the second jade of lan.

what is her life.

of course, it’s not long after that that she goes to find jin zixuan and explain that she can’t make their weekly sparring match today because she has plans with lan wangji (jiang yanli tenderly brushed some of mianmian’s hair away from her forehead while they were working on sword forms and if mianmian doesn’t tell someone about it she’s literally going to explode) and she’s trying to be as polite as possible only for jin zixuan to scoff and pout (”i don’t pout”) and say, “i never took you for one of those women who throw themselves so wantonly at a man”

it’s only for having been friends with this absolutely horrible communicator for most of her life that she doesn’t immediately punch him in the face. “what did you just say to me,” she demands, but jin zixuan just sets his jaw and looks away, flushing down his neck in the way his mother describes as unbecoming and--

and mianmian suddenly realizes that her ridiculous best friend is jealous of lan wangji. 

(in a friend way, of course, he’s like her brother, the one time his mother implied that he ought not get too close to women in case it jeopardizes his betrothal to jiang yanli, he insisted he didn’t have any female friends repeatedly as his mother delicately danced around outright saying mianmian’s name until finally she broke and jin zixuan was basically like huh?? mianmian doesn’t count?? she made me eat dirt like six times when we were kids)

the sheer ridiculousness of jin zixuan, to set her up with a guy and then get jealous when she spends all her time with him

and fuck her, but she loves her stupid awkward ridiculous sect heir best friend and she doesn’t want him to think she’s gone and left him for someone else (gods know jin zixuan’s loyalty complex rivals his marriage one (on second thought the two might be connected)) and so, after making a few quick decisions, mianmian grabs her stupid best friend by the wrist and pulls him to the library

he protests all the way there, but he’s been letting her drag him wherever she wants since they were five and it isn’t as if he’s going to break the pattern now. she drags him to the library and sits him down across a startled lan wangji and then finally breaks and gushes about jiang-guniang’s fingertips brushing her forehead and doesn’t look at jin zixuan once the whole time

lan wangji, on the other hand, sends jin zixuan frequent glances, as if worried on mianmian’s behalf, which is super sweet and also how the fuck did mianmian get two awkward sect heirs to care about her platonically wtf. she spares a thought for her poor auntie, who would’ve loved to have a sect heir care about her niece in much less platonic ways.

at the end of mianmian’s rant, jin zixuan is blinking quite a lot. “you like women?” he asks. he’s always been a bit slow on the uptake. mianmian nods. “you like jiang-guniang?”

mianmian shrugs. “more or less. she’s just really pretty and i’m dying about it. it’s fine.”

lan wangji says, “mn,” sympathetically and jin zixuan continues to gape.

mianmian winces. “you’re not going to be weird about this, are you?”

jin zixuan shakes his head quickly. “no, no-- of course not, i--you know that i--you’re my best friend, i don’t care--what does it matter to me, who you want to--to touch your hair.”

it’s probably the most awkward sentence he’s said to her in years, but possibly more articulate than she’d been expecting. it makes her tear up regardless and she punches him in the shoulder to hide it, and that’s basically how the three of them start hanging out in the library nearly every day after lecture.

sometimes they go to the sparring ground, bc who’s better sparring practice than the second jade of lan? and sometimes (once or twice) mianmian manages to convince lan wangji to join her and jin zixuan for lunch in caiyi town when they don’t have lecture, but mostly they meet in a secluded part of the library where mianmian can rant about how pretty all the women at lectures are, jin zixuan can turn pink whenever she mentions jiang-guniang, and lan wangji can “mn” and nod sympathetically at all the right parts

and mianmian thinks that’s going to be the end of it, they’re just going to be friends now and everything else will move on as usual, bc by some ridiculous trick of fate lan wangji and jin zixuan seem to like each other. which makes sense in hindsight bc they’re both awkward sect heirs who care about cultivation and people a lot even if they’re not great at showing it 

(and he’d never say it but mianmian thinks jin zixuan’s easy acceptance of her liking women is probably the first time lan wangji’s ever seen someone accept that kind of thing before (maybe, possibly, other than his brother, lan xichen seems really cool, even if he does smile kind of intensely at mianmian whenever he happens upon her hanging out with his little brother.))

so they’re friends, they’re unexpected friends, and sometimes lan wangji even makes jokes in that dry deadpan way of his and sometimes jin zixuan doesn’t completely trip over his own words and manages to act like a normal human being and mianmian gets two idiots to care about and a perfect place to vent her womanly frustrations, and she thinks that’s the end of it and then wei wuxian accosts her after lectures one day

“do you like lan zhan?” he asks accusingly, eyes narrowed to slits. “what am i even asking, of course you like lan zhan, but do you like-like him?”

mianmian thinks sadly to herself that she’s much too into women to be dealing with all these men’s emotional problems. “lan wangji is my friend,” she says, carefully sidestepping wei wuxian, who continues to squint at her suspiciously. really, he’d been amusing when he flirted with her, but this? this is just ridiculous.

“does he know that?” wei wuxian asks. “because if he doesn’t, that’s just leading him on, and it’s really not nice to--”

“lan wangji knows we’re friends,” she says, trying to enunciate to get her point across clearly. “you can ask him, if you don’t believe me.”

wei wuxian squints a moment longer before he turns and flounces off. mianmian thinks this is the end of it until she’s accosted again after dinner with, “he said you were friends!”

for some reason, wei wuxian seems even more troubled by this than earlier. mianmian tries to suppress her eyeroll. “i told you he would?”

“but how,” wei wuxian says, suddenly whining. “i’ve been trying to be his friend for months and he refuses to acknowledge me.”

oh, mianmian realizes with a quickly dawning horror. she and lan wangji are not the only cut-sleeves at cloud recesses this summer. (she has suspicions, of course, but no confirmations on any of the others, but this. wow.)

she also realizes, decides really, that she has enough repressed sect heirs in her life and she cannot deal with wei wuxian’s cut-sleeve crisis or his evidently large attachment to lan wangji right now. she turns decisively and walks the fuck away. not her problem.

the lectures end eventually, of course, and mianmian and jin zixuan return to lanling with a horde of golden robed disciples, freshly deflowered and not all together more learned. it’s what, she thinks grimly, their sect leader would want.

the first few weeks go by and she realizes that she’s missed unloading about her frequent and fast falling-in-loves. jin zixuan just doesn’t sympathize right, bless him, and so mianmian takes to writing letters. she sends two without receiving a reply and just starts to write the third when a letter with the gusu symbol is delivered to her room.

she’s almost expecting to find a single mn written on the page-- she would’ve been delighted with just that, actually, the sheer hilarity of such a thing-- but instead she finds several pages filled with lan wangji’s perfect calligraphy.

it’s more than he’s ever spoken out loud, but it seems that propriety dictated that he return mianmian’s extensive letter with one of his own and he’s done so admirably. he responds to the events mianmian detailed in her letters-- most succinctly summarized as, woman are gorgeous and i’m dying-- and then writes about his own life in cloud recesses. apparently, he went on a little night hunt with wei wuxian and also nie huaisang and jiang cheng were involved? seriously, mianmian misses out on all the fun.

he’s also apparently taken in some rabbits, which mianmian immediately decides she needs to see. lan wangji, sitting prim and proper, with a bunch of rabbits in his lap? amazing. wei wuxian would die on sight, she’s sure of it.

he also ends his letter with a warning about qishan wen that has mianmian frowning. she takes it to jin zixuan who reads the paragraph and frowns. “i’ll talk to my father about it,” he says, which she can tell by his hunched shoulders he doesn’t expect to do much.

“talk to your father’s general too,” she suggests, because that man at least thinks with his head and not his dick.

jin zixuan nods but doesn’t hand back the letter. he skims it instead with a barely concealed surprise at lan wangji’s previously hidden expansive vocabulary. mianmian snorts and grabs the letter back. “you can write to him yourself, you know.”

jin zixuan flushes down his neck. “i know!” he insists and then turns and runs away because he’s a coward. mianmian shakes her head, smiling. what an idiot.

still, another week goes by and a letter arrives from gusu and, when mianmian takes it, assuming it’s for her, she finds it addressed to jin zixuan in lan wangji’s impeccable calligraphy and she grins to herself like an idiot. look at jin zixuan, making friends

(she suddenly understands why lan xichen gave her all those intense smiles during the lan lectures)

they go on in this way, writing letters to lan wangji from lanling. sometimes mianmian steals jin zixuan’s letters before he sends them so she can squeeze in some ranting in the post script without wasting a whole second thing of paper, and lan wangji replies dutifully, more verbose than he ever was in person, and it’s nice okay, like. she and jin zixuan have been best friends since they were kids but neither of them has ever been any good at listening and lan wangji is just so honest and earnest in everything, like they didn’t realize that people outside of lanling were actually not always plotting your downfall??? who woulda thunk

and then of course the wens go and ruin everything. they go to the wen lectures bc jin guangshan doesn’t want to “anger our trading partner” like the guy isn’t obviously going to burn carp tower to the ground the first chance he gets, and mostly mianmian and jin zixuan are just vaguely annoyed and put out about it

then lan wangji shows up with a broken leg and a burned sect and they are ready to murder some dudes

after years of breaking in and out of carp tower she and jin zixuan are old hats at this breaking and entering stuff and they manage to sneak into lan wangji’s guest quarters and tend to his wounds, ignoring all his silent glares and ranting furiously about how they’re going to murder wen chao by making him choke on his own dick (mianmian) and how they’re going to war with the wen sect even if he has to threaten his father with acknowledging all of his bastards as proper siblings in public to do it (jin zixuan)

lan wangji just says “mn” and makes various muted, distressed expressions, but mianmian thinks he’s touched.

“are your brother and uncle alright?” she asks, when she’s set his broken leg and forced pain medication down his throat.

“brother escaped with our sacred texts,” lan wangji says. “uncle is... unwell.”

mianmian knows lan wangji hates touch but the way he says it, with this horrible little frown, emoting more than she’s ever seen him, his barely suppressed anger and grief literally making his hands shake into fists, mianmian can’t help it, she hugs him. “we’ll make them pay,” she swears into his shoulder, ruining the lines of his robes with how she clutches at them. “i promise you.”

jin zixuan awkwardly pats lan wangji’s shoulder, which is a lot for him and mianmian spares a moment to be proud of his growth.

unfortunately, wen chao seems to delight in torturing lan wangji on his injured leg and lan wangji refuses to show weakness, which both impresses mianmian and pisses her the fuck off. she approaches wen qing (and her still gorgeous ears, sigh) and asks her to tend to lan wangji, since she’s like actually a doctor. wen qing does bc she’s beautiful, intelligent, and kind and mianmian spends most of that night sighing deeply as she relates this to a significantly drugged lan wangji

the cave of the xuanwu goes about the same as you’d expect. wei wuxian saving her from getting her face branded off is pretty rad of him, though he could’ve just like knocked the brand away instead of throwing himself in front of it but whatever, you do you boo. when lan wangji gets left behind the two of them don’t even have to wait for jiang cheng to grumble and ask for their help, they’re already on their way to carp tower for an army, thank you very much

when they rescue wei wuxian and lan wangji and lan wangji immediately turns to walk back to cloud recesses on a broken leg mianmian says, “fuck no, that’s not happening, you’re getting medical attention and then someone will fly you back home, okay, wtf wangji, sit down.”

and lan wangji is a stubborn bitch so obvs he’s like no but he’s also severely starved, dehydrated, and injured, so it’s not like he can just shake off mianmian holding him down and this goes on long enough for wei wuxian to wake up and see mianmian touching lan wangji, and something in his poor little brain just like breaks and he demands says, “lan zhan, come back to lotus pier with us.”

his argument, as he explains it, is that lotus pier is closer (it’s not; they’re just as close to carp tower as lotus pier) and that it’s closer to gusu for when lan wangji has to return home (it’s not; same deal) but then jiang cheng starts yelling, possibly in support possibly not mianmian’s not sure, and jin zixuan starts getting awkward, probably about the whole golden army behind him bc he’s a nerd and hates being overdressed at functions (this is basically the same thing), and mianmian looks at lan wangji and she sees--

something. she isn’t sure what exactly, but lan wangji looks at wei wuxian as he argues with his brother and he presses his lips into a thin line in the way that means he wants to smile and mianmian thinks, oh. maybe wei wuxian isn’t completely unrequited in his lan wangji obsession.

growing up in lanling, she knows how to use information to her advantage, so she immediately says, “young masters wei and jiang, what a great idea. lanling’s disciples would be pleased to accompany you and second young master lan to lotus pier to ensure everyone’s safe arrival.”

everyone splutters, indignant, confused, awkward (jiang cheng, wei wuxian, and jin zixuan, respectively) but lan wangji narrows his eyes at mianmian and doesn’t try to convince her to let him walk to gusu again, so she counts it as a win.

sect leader jiang and his wife seem surprised and annoyed, respectively, to be taking in so many guests, but sect leader jiang merely smiles pleasantly and directs them to some guest quarters and mianmian and wei wuxian ask, simultaneously, for doctors to tend to lan wangji and wei wuxian makes a face at her and mianmian sighs to herself that she really is too gay to be in the middle of his thing with lan wangji.

turns out, walking a lot and fighting a cannibalistic turtle on a broken leg doesn’t do wonders for healing. lan wangji is also the worst patient ever, he keeps trying to sneak out and get up even though word came from his brother that he’s safe and alright and that cloud recesses is starting to rebuild after qinghe nie and lanling jin came to its aid and pushed out the wen

but with the combined efforts of mianmian, jin zixuan, and wei wuxian (and even jiang yanli at one point, bc who could say no to her soup??) they manage to get lan wangji to just rest for a fucking second, really which results in the jin disciples and lan wangji staying in lotus pier for longer than anyone could’ve expected

mianmian spends most of her time (when she isn’t forcing lan wangji to just fucking stay in bed) working with the jiang disciples, practicing archery, sword forms, and mooning after all the beautiful women here.

(”lan wangji, i know she’s scary, but have you seen madam yu? she could whip me with zidian and i’d thank her” “luo-guniang, please don’t ask madam yu to whip you” OR “lan wangji, i’m almost positive madam yu’s maids are a thing, do you think they’d let me join them just like once” “luo-guniang, could you please pass me my sword?” “why” “i’d like to put myself out of this misery” OR “she made me soup. lan wangji. lan wangji, i know you’re not sleeping, wake up, you have to listen to me, this soup”)

they end up staying so long that when wang lingjiao shows up threatening a child about a kite while sect leader jiang is away, she has a lot more to deal with than madam yu. since none of this had been a “sanctioned visit” no one actually knew that there was nearly an entire troop of jin disciples staying at lotus pier, so when the wens attack they are sorely unprepared for what they’re going to face.

(and ofc lan wangji breaks out of bed heroically and keeps madam yu from whipping wei wuxian, which means they aren’t down one of their most powerful fighters and mianmian has to suffer through the moon eyes they’re making at one another in the middle of a battle no less, she knew wei wuxian had no shame but she’d been hoping lan wangji would have some)

after the wen attack (and defeat) on lotus pier and the jin’s inarguable part in it, the war starts in earnest. lan wangji, after his long rest, heals fine and goes back to gusu to help rebuild his sect and plan for war, and mianmian and jin zixuan return to carp tower to plan as well, ignoring jin guangshan and focusing instead on his general to ensure lanling supplies necessary aid in the war effort

and war is always shitty, of course, and mianmian hates watching her sect family die on the battlefield, hates waiting for updates after every battle to see who’s still alive, hates the politics and jin guangshan trying to wheedle his way out of fighting when there’s fucking lives on the line

(and she could never know, how much easier it is, with yunmeng jiang at its full strength, with one of the brightest minds of their generation there to plot and help, with two of the best fighters not out searching for someone and instead focused on the front)

they reach nightless city after months of fighting and mianmian is ready to just fucking stab wen ruohan herself when they’re suddenly trapped. blocked in on all sides by puppets, their fallen soldiers rising again to turn on them, and it--it looks like they’re gonna die.

“this sucks,” she says to lan wangji, stifling her fear and choking it down. “i never even got to kiss a girl.”

lan wangji just says “mn.”

jin zixuan, beside them, says, “i was an idiot about jiang-guniang.”

lan wangji just says, “mn.”

then wei wuxian pulls out a fucking flute and a-- floating piece of metal?  the army of puppets and corpses stops advancing, held in place by-- music, apparently? and wen ruohan emerges from his lair, black energy falling off him in waves, wei wuxian the idiot flies forward to meet him, gets wen ruohan’s hand around his throat for his trouble.

lan wangji yells, “wei ying!” and mianmian thinks, really not fair that lan wangji is gonna get a boyfriend before i get a girlfriend

and then wen ruohan gets stabbed by jin zixuan’s half brother of all people. wen ruohan, along with his puppets and wei wuxian, fall to the ground. lan wangji rushes forward to catch wei wuxian, mianmian runs after him, finds herself in company with jin zixuan and jiang cheng. when they get there, wei wuxian is barely conscious but he’s-- he’s fucking grinning up at lan wangji from the cradle of lan wangji’s arms

“lan zhan,” he says, “you caught me.”

lan wangji nods, says, “mn,” which is basically his equivalent of i’ll always catch you, wei ying.

“really,” mianmian says aloud, “it’s so unfair.”

the aftermath of the war is more annoying than the war itself, what with all the politics and in-fighting and jin guangshan trying to be the biggest dick there ever was. jin guangshan tries to name himself chief cultivator in wen ruohan’s stead but nie mingjue suggests jiang fengmian instead and the lan sect backs him. jin guangshan tries to demonize the wens but at wei wuxian’s loud rebuttal and sect leader jiang’s backing (which is then backed by both gusu lan and qinghe nie) he’s once again shouted down. and then jin guangshan tries to propose to jiang-guniang for his son and the poor woman just seems so awkward and her father doesn’t seem to know what to say and--

mianmian elbows jin zixuan whose eyes widen ridiculously but, after another, harder hit, he suddenly stands. all eyes go to him, which mianmian knows he hates, but he bows to his father, then jiang yanli, and says, “jiang-guniang, forgive my father’s impertinence. this is not the time or place to be making such an offer, but he--” jin zixuan winces visibly. “--he knows of my feelings and wishes to make his foolish son happy. please, do not feel the need to respond.”

then he promptly sits down, flushing down to his neck, and mianmian shares a disbelieving glance with lan wangji from across the horrible nightless city palace room.

she’d really only meant for him to suggest jiang yanli answer privately, at a later time, but wow, jin zixuan really went for it. also no way jin guangshan knows his son has fallen in love with jiang yanli, so nice save face there. maybe he has been paying attention in all of their etiquette and political espionage classes.

jiang yanli flushes way prettier than jin zixuan and nods politely, stands and bows and thanks the jin clan for being considerate in this time of turmoil, perhaps they can discuss this matter at a later date (jin zixuan looks like he nearly faints at this, and mianmian feels vindicated in all her forlorn ranting. overreacting her ass)

when everything has been settled, wen qing has been appointed the new sect leader of qishan wen with promises to return land to those who lost it and pay reparations to the hurt civilians, as well as have the yin iron destroyed for good. during the final ceremony where all the sects have tea and pledge to be loyal to one another (until the next great war, of course) mianmian leans close to lan wangji and sighs, “her ears look even lovelier with her hair tied back by her new sect leader hairpiece.”

lan wangji says “mn” because he’s a cut sleeve in love with wei wuxian and has nothing even closely resembling taste.

mianmian, on her own, decides to make them both happy. before the jin clan departs from nightless city, she goes up to wei wuxian and asks for a moment of his time. wei wuxian seems confused but follows and, once they’re alone, he says, “mianmian, are you about to get me into bed, because i must tell you that i am a respectable young cultivator and you’ll need to marry me before--”

mianmian gives him her best unimpressed look (she’s had much practice with it, thank you jin zixuan) and cuts him off with, “i like women.” 

wei wuxian’s eyes go wide. “but you and lan zhan--”

she cuts him off again before he can say something so stupid she has to stop talking to him to refrain from breaking all laws of propriety. “look,” she says, “you’re friends with wen qing. now that she’s sect leader, your brother can’t go after her. i, on the other hand, very much can. if you promise to figure out a way for me and her to get close, i’ll tell you a secret you’ll like very much.”

wei wuxian seems hesitant for all of half a second before he breaks. “tell me.”

“do you promise?”

wei wuxian raises three fingers. “promise.”

“on your sister’s life?”

begrudgingly, wei wuxian nods.

“on her soup?”

“just get on with it!”

mianmian smirks, pushes onto her tiptoes, and whispers the secret into wei wuxian’s ear. with that, she returns to the pavilion where all the sects mingle as they wait to depart, wei wuxian trailing behind her in a daze, his mouth hanging open.

lan wangji, who had been watching since mianmian asked wei wuxian for a moment to talk, frowns nearly imperceptibly. mianmian grins at him and his frown grows.

ah, whatever. she walks over to him, unbothered by the quickly growing alarm in his eyes. once next to him, she turns around to see wei wuxian staring unabashedly. her smile only widens.

“you’re going to thank me for this,” she says.

wei wuxian shakes himself, his eyes focusing, and immediately starts walking towards them.

lan wangji, voice flat but wavering, asks, “luo-guniang, what did you do?”

mianmian laughs, says, “i get to give a speech at your wedding,” and walks away just as wei wuxian reaches them.

(she does, actually, give a speech at their wedding. she may or may not be drunk during it, jin zixuan gets embarrassed for her, and she starts tearing up and has to hide it in the shoulder of her wife’s lovely well-tailored robes. it’s alright, though, wen qing doesn’t mind)

EDIT: now on AO3 with a real fic version from lwj’s pov!

[hilarychuff]

i am not a steddie and so have not searched the fandom to see if this has already been done but if it hasn’t i just want you guys to know that i think you could really enjoy a steddie uptown girls au and a steddie overboard au!!!

consider:

uptown girls molly (brittany murphy) - spoiled orphan princess steve harrington suddenly poor???? what’s that about???? neal (jesse spencer) - hustling musician obviously eddie munson. originally sort of aloof but can’t resist the appeal of music royalty. later catches feelings and has to pull off a grand gesture with a musical performance.  huey (donald faison) - robin, obviously. the cool chill bestie who pulls bitches ingrid (marley shelton) - nancy!! can be a lil uptight but has your back. will give you the kick in the ass you need until you grow up.  ray (dakota fanning) - i want to say dustin but keeping in mind larger casting context i think el is the best choice here. can’t relate to the other kids her age, but desperately wants to, needs to deal with their feelings surrounding their parent in an essentially comatose state tucked away in the library.  roma (heather locklear) - hopper. accepted the parenting role but is honestly kind of absent. needs a wake up call to figure out how to communicate with his daughter bc he’s married to his job. probs does not have an affair with eddie (although dealer’s choice) but maybe has some sort of uhhhhh drug business arrangement idk 

overboard joanna/annie (goldie hawn) - steve it’s short for steven/stephen (???). has some unpleasant wife who mooches off his money and probably wants to kill him a lil. wearing flashy fashion and serving cunt while on his yacht. kind of a brat but also a total homemaker once he learns what an oven is or whatever.  dean (kurt russell) - eddie!! overworked underpaid sexy titties out in a lil tanktop hardworking guy with a flair for the creative. collects lil lost sheep flock of kids but is often not super responsible about it. perfectly happy to be a lil morally flexible and essentially kidnap steve as karmic justice but then also fall in love with him.  the kids - dustin, obviously!!! max another good candidate. honestly why not do just the whole gang??? lucas and mike and will and el. them alternately punking steve super hard in the start and then being like “no don’t take away our steve that’s our mom 🥺” by the end. are they foster kids?? is eddie running some sort of summer camp for them instead of their actual parent??? i let you all take it from here but i trust there’s a good solution  that one mean teacher - principal higgins obvs. judges eddie and gets put in his place by steve.  grant (edward hermann) - could be an oc, could be maybe carol??? you could do nancy if you’re a nancy hater. omg. you could do billy. actually billy would kind of be great here. 

anyway!!!! have at it or please feel free to weigh in lol. and feel free to write!! i love to come up with an au but finding the motivation to write about my own blorbos is hard enough!!

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

The Obey Me Brothers and Undatables vs An Insect/Arachnid Loving MC

I find it amazing how many people find it disturbing that I just love some insects and arachnids (not more than birds but still, insects can be both cute and cool even when they manage to terrify me so I can't help but love them lmao).

It's so cool how insects are actually the most dominant species in the world even before humanity existed and will most likely still be even after humanity ceases to exist, of course some of them actualy spread disease and such but it's not all of them and the mosquitoes that do spread it are females and they are just sucking your blood to feed their babies and the males like flowers over your blood, I actually don't like all spiders but I love tarantulas with all my heart although I can't say the same for wasps, they are evil but they can be so cool I have so many mixed feelings and cockroaches can be so adorable specially the forest/wild ones, have you ever seen them eat fruits??? They are so cute! And don't even get me started on how a d o r a b l e beetles are-

.

Lucifer vs Ladybug

Taking strolls in the Castle's garden when you are accompaning Lucifer in his work are very common.

Just taking a fresh breath of the Devildom's air in between breaks with you by his side powers him up like crazy.

Now that being said, he doesn't really appreciate losing your attention to a little, colorful, bug crawling on one of the flowers in said garden.

"Lucifer, look! It's a ladybug! It's so different from the human world!"

That is true, ladybugs in hell were brighter in color and had a toxin in their bodies that- Oh wait

"Don't touch it!" Lucifer grabbed your hand in realization "haven't you learned anything about bright colors in nature? The toxin in their bodies can melt your skin off!"

He really didn't expect your eyes to get even more shiny.

"Ladybugs in Devildom are both bright and dangerous??!! I'm so jealous!"

With that, he became both exasperated and more in love with you.

Does this have a relation to the fact that you love him and his brothers even thought they are demons?

He is definetelly giving you a brooch in the shape of a ladybug later

.

Mammon vs Cockroach

If you think this man didn't scream like a plate being scratched with a fork when he saw a cockroach in your bedroom, you are wrong.

I mean, okay, he was on the floor and the thing just decided to crawl up to his head out of nowhere.

He jumped over the table so fast it probably has beaten a world record.

"Aw! It's a baby cockroach!"

It's true, it was very small compared to adult ones, but Mammon didn't care.

"STOP FAWNIN' OVER THOSE CREATURES FOR ONCE AND KILL IT ALREADY!!"

And of course instead of killing it you just raise your eyebrown at him while scooping the thing up with a paper.

And of course you needed to bring it really close to him just to watch him squirm before you decide throw it out of your bedroom's window.

He definetelly will ask you to wash your hands before comforting him even if you didn't even touch the cockroach directly.

.

Leviathan vs Dragonfly

You cannot tell me dragonflies in Devildom are actually very few and actually have the size of a small dragon.

It all happened on the day you and Levi got lost in the forest searching for a raven that stole his just purchased phone charm of a game that he was currently addicted to.

Both of you were looking for a way out when you heard an extremelly loud buzzing noise from somewhere in the woods.

Of course both of you followed the sound because first, you just know that must be one big ass insect since it sounded almost like a helicopter and you had to see it, and second, Levi suddenly forgot all about the charm (and being lost) and started rambling about how 'it couldn't be! Is it really-!'

And that is how you guys found his new Henry.

A giant, navy blue, shiny dragonfly, that was currently eating the Raven you and Levi were searching for.

Let's just say Levi got his charm back and both of you got a free ride to the House of Lamentation.

.

Satan vs Spiders

Where there are old books, there are spider webs, and where there are spider webs, there's at least a 50% chance there are spiders in there.

So you can say Satan was quite familiar with the eight legged creatures, although he never really paid them much attention.

That is until he found they were of your interest.

You will never see someone start to give spider names, treat them with courtesy and have small talks with them faster than with this man.

Getting a book from the House of Lamentation's library and there's a web in the way along with a resident spider? "Excuse me, I will have to disturb you a little, I hope you don't mind a bit of damage to your home"

He is reading and suddenly sees a spider dangling down from a web string right besides him? He is definetelly letting it land on his hand just so that he can show it to you.

One day he even choses to read a book in his berdoom that a tiny spider was standing on. The sight of the tiny thing crawling around the pages as he reads it and explains some things out loud is so precious to see.

.

Asmodeus vs Scorpions

Of course, what would suit the Lust Demon better than his own patron?

That is until you teach him that there are more than just one type of scorpion, and there is one type that has really big claws and a thinner tail that are usually pretty big in size.

Why would learning that be a bad thing, you ask? Instead of stinging its food, it actually grabs it like a crab.

So yes, the day Asmo held one and didn't use his charms, it pinched him.

Needless to say, it was chaotic.

Leaving the fact he is never approaching those kinds of scorpions ever again, he coos a lot at you while you coo at the small scorpions.

If you tell him the fact that they are his patron just makes you love him more, he will be so happy he will be squealing for the next 5 minutes.

He has definetelly taken a few dozens, of pictures for you while holding one or more scorpions.

His followers in the devilgram were surprised at how even while holding that thing, Asmo still looked amazing.

Scorpions definetelly became sensation in Devildom after that.

.

Beelzebub vs Flies

Again, nothing better than his own patron.

If he didn't have to swat them off his food that is.

He has definetelly eaten some accidently.

"Look! I managed to make it crawl up to my finger without scaring it!" you say.

"That is cool. But you should probably wash your hand." He replies.

He's right, wash your hands if you ever grab onto flies.

He finds it really cute that you like insects, and it makes him tingly on the inside when he remembers that his symbolic creature is an insect itself.

Don't hold back on asking him to change into his demon form more often, he is very happy to do it.

He starts paying more attention to insects and flies in general after he finds out how much you love them.

How big their are, their color, where he saw them, what were they doing, if they tasted good.

And then he proceeds to tell you all about it.

He is very cute.

.

Belphegor vs Butterflies

It's not that he attracts butterflies, no. But he actually likes them, finds them cool even.

Did you know some butterflies disguise as another type butterfly because that type is actually not very tasty to eat so the animals stay away from them?

And how many of them have patterns on their wings that look a lot like Owls and again, it makes animals stay away from them?

And the whole symbolism of life, death and rebirth around them? And the fact that the larvae eating everything around them reminds him a lot of Beel?

Belphie definetelly likes butterflies and you cannot tell me otherwise.

So when he finds out you love insects? Oh he is definetelly taking you to the best butterfly watching spot either in the Devildom or the Human World.

It's specially cute when he falls asleep and one lands on his face.

He definetelly had a minor heart attack when he woke up to the sight its wings but he will never admit it.

Also definetelly grabs it and puts it on you instead.

It's counterproductive as you end up looking too cute for him to handle.

.

Solomon vs Beetles

I mean beetle fights.

You thought you liked insects, just wait until you see this man cheering on a beetle like an excited kid.

Also finds it hilarious when one just yeets the other away.

And because now you are there to feed more into his love for beetles, one day he casts a spell on two of them to make them big enough to ride and just showed up outside your window like:

"No time to explain, get in the beetle"

Because of safety measures, no, you guys didn't have a giant beetle fight.

But you did ride them around the Devildom forest at 2am.

You thought it would be an insane ride with lots of adventures

But you guys just ended up star gazing while laying on them.

He forgot to turn them back to their original size and they scared a few of the residents of Devildom.

.

Simeon vs Mantis

Warning: it's a big goreish

When you introduced the praying mantis specifically to Simeon, he was immediatelly in awe.

And then you proceeded to show him how they can have many shapes and forms, be it as leafs, tree branches, and others.

And he was so intrigued!

But then you gave him the more, specific details.

Like how they can feast on their prey while they are still alive.

And how it actually can attack small birds such as humming birds, eating their brain tissue through their eyes.

And how the females practice a cannibalism ritual, feasting on their partners after mating.

That's when his writer self came to light.

What I mean is, he was now both horrified and extremelly inspired.

Simeon can be scary sometimes.

.

Diavolo vs Ants

If you can find ants in every nook and crany around the world, you cannot tell me you can't find them in hell.

If they are able to travel the sea just by being taken along with baggage on accident, they have definetelly come to hell the same way, specially black crazy ants.

So honestly, I wouldn't find it surprising that Diavolo would have at least one big colony of ants he takes care of.

But he didn't have it until you pointed out why ants were awesome to him.

"They don't eat the leafs, they are farmers and what they eat is the other tiny creatures that decompose the leafs" "they can go to extreme lenghts to find their food and they have a real good teamwork, often they don't eat right away but instead bring the food back to the colony to feed the young" "Some ants that live in tropical weather that rains a lot, such as the amazon, can swim! And they do it together in big, ant, nests!"

Needless to say, he was intrigued.

Such tiny creatures are able to eat other insects much bigger than them? And they love sweets?

They actually like their homes clean and throw their trash into the very corner of their enclosure? Their bite can actually hurt a lot even to creatures gigantic copared to their size such as humans??

He had his own personal colony the very next day.

.

Barbatos vs Bees

This man definetelly has his own share of appreciation for bees even before you told him you like insects.

They are very good helpers in the garden, their honey can be used on a extremelly big variety of both food and health products along with their wax, and honestly, they're just so fuzzy and cute.

If you want to get a rare laugh or chuckle out of him, make bee movie references.

He will just stop in his tracks and cover his mouth as he tries not to laugh.

You could almost make him spit his drink if you do it while he is drinking something.

And you can't tell me this man can't make bee related puns with a straight face. It's unbeeliveable

Aight, imma head out

.

(This was basically an insect/arachnid appreciation post and I have no regrets)

[marky4l]

Step by Step / Mark Lee

step by step / mkl

pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

From an innocent childhood friendship to a juvenile high school rivalry to a forced pairing for a Psychology paper, it seems you and Mark just can’t avoid each other. But something’s a little different now.

genre: fluff, angst (a little bit), suggestive themes, childhood friends (barely mentioned!) to enemies to lovers, college!au

notes: lia yeonjun chan hyuck jeno all make tiny appearances 

word count: 17.2k 

hi!!! this is my first work nd I’m really excited to put this out I’d looove if you could give it a read :^) hound me on my inbox if u wanna i take anything

“Remember when we were best friends in fifth grade?”

His voice is a little quiet, and there’s a very obvious undertone of boredom, but you hum softly anyway, nodding, as if to question why you would ever forget. Fifth grade was a suburban brew of Star Wars marathons, figuring out the world, and Harry Potter merchandise littering your house. Fifth grade was lemonade and oatmeal, knitted sweaters, and sneaking into your mom’s vanity to swipe her makeup. And fifth grade was Mark—bright eyed, geeky Mark, with his Death Star replica and weird electronica music. 

Mark, who had an affinity with Troy from High School Musical and Spiderman, and wanted to be just like them. Mark, who would show up grinning to your front door everyday, pie dish in his nimble grip. He was the one who had opened a lemonade stand at the corner of your block so he could buy you the Gryffindor scarf you’d been nagging your mom about the entire holiday season. He was the one who learned the chords to your favorite Jonas Brothers song and sang it to you each time you requested it.

“Yes, I do,” you answer instead, clearing your throat. 

You attempt to push down all the memories that just ran through your head and adjust the grip you have on your pen. “Well,” Mark continues, “that was ages ago. Beats me why it ever happened.” 

The timidity is replaced with a tidal wave of teasing, and the annoyance that had disappeared is beginning to crawl all over you. Again. You roll your eyes and pull up the slides your professor had assigned. “Beats me why we even ended up in the same university, let alone the same class,” you jab, “if you thought I forgot about how you outright failed our Spanish classes in high school, I didn’t.”

Your friendship with Mark had reached its unfortunate demise to the hands of middle school, where you had branched out with your interests and began to stick to societal (as societal as school can get) norms. He had joined the geeky, cool kids; you hadn’t joined a specific social circle, but you had a best friend, Lia, and you were generally good with everybody. 

Somehow, despite you both being in good graces with everyone, you had a deep-seated dislike for one another that stemmed from an intense academic rivalry. Specifically, the competition to become school council president. That had ended now, seeing as though you were both in college, but the abrasiveness of your banter had never worn off.

“Oh, because you were so good at Physics?” he says, voice even. His brow is raised. “We all have our strong suits, you know. You’re one to talk.” You decide to pay him no mind, instead jotting down the criteria for your final project in Psychology 1—something about the stages of grief. You’re supposed to relate it to a different human process and show how they fit with one another. 

It’s absolute fucking bullshit, and the fact that Mark Lee became your partner among a hundred students is beyond you. Absolutely beyond you. 

He nears your screen, reading the content of your project, eyes squinted—you’d noticed his lack of decent eyesight years ago, but it seemingly hadn’t improved. “Relate the stages of grief…hold up, what? That’s difficult as hell. What are we supposed to do, lose a loved one?” You roll your eyes, turning to him. “No, Mark. The point is to find another process that happens gradually and relate it to this—denial, bargaining, anger. Get it?”

He stares back at you. “No.”

You groan audibly, turning back to your notebook. “This is impossible. Can we just switch partners so I won’t have to deal with you?” He smirks, kicking his feet up on the library table. Absently, you note how nice his sneakers look. Reclining onto the seat, he shuts his eyes as if to contemplate. 

“I heard through the birdvine our professor’s the type to pair up people she thinks would look good together for shits and giggles. Girls and boys, boys and boys, you name it. Johnny”—he’s referring to a guy who’s a year above yours, studying Biology—“tells me over five couples have been born out of this class. Isn’t that nice?” You scoff, scrolling mindlessly through the slides to keep yourself distracted. 

“It really is. A shame we won’t be adding to that list, because I can’t fucking stand you.” He laughs loudly, the vibration of it remaining in the deadly silent air. “I can stand fucking you, though,” he says, and then, before you can even blush, “All jokes. Don’t get your hopes up, ‘kay?” He’s quick to get up, just as flustered as you are at the uncharacteristic phrase that just left his mouth. He collects his jacket and jogs out of the library with a small, half-assed bye under his breath.

—

Lia’s eyes bore into yours. “He actually said that? I’m telling you, he’s some weird kinky guy under that whole cool geek persona. High school Mark would never have. Oh my god. He’s a furry—he’s a furry!” She flops back onto your bed, laughing. You poke at her waist in protest. 

“It’s because he’s surrounded by too many weird classy fuckboys. You know, those that think that they’re all that because they haven’t roofied a girl.” You’re half-joking, and you’re really only referring to maybe two guys you’ve happened to see Mark with. As if to read your mind, Lia continues. “Hey, I heard some of them are okay. They’re not, like…those ‘nice guys’, if you get me.”

“I do,” you quip. “But I guess I’m just trying to find a way to justify the whole 360 in Mark. I mean, in high school, he was still nerdy—well, you know. Shy. But jump to sophomore year of uni and he’s suddenly some…” You rack your head for a proper term. “Sex god?” your friend asks, holding in a laugh. “Oh, eat shit,” you fire back, “really, eat shit. And while you’re at it, feed me some, too, because I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to turn in at the end of the term. Like, Jes—”

There’s a faint knock at the door, and then. “Lia? It’s—uh, it’s me, Daniel? Er, Daniel Choi.” Your wide eyes can’t possibly match Lia’s as she tugs on a decent-looking pullover and puts it on. As she swings the door open, you manage to sufficiently hide yourself under your duvet and attempt to hear their conversation. 

“You know, it’s okay if you leave out the whole…saying your full name at the door part. Trust me…I know you,” she jokes, and you hear him laugh before you detect the crinkling of a plastic bag. “Chinese. Uh, I bought some extra for your best friend, because I’m not gonna pretend I don’t see the sentient blob on the bed.”

You pull the blanket off and smile sheepishly. “Hey, Daniel,” you say, “thanks for the food. I owe you an empty room next time, I swear by it. It’ll be easy, since I’m gonna be”—you heave yourself off the bed and onto the floor, where they’re both sitting—“holed up at the library for the next few weeks.” 

Lia nods, chewing her chow mein, and then when she’s done, she explains to Daniel your whole huge Psychology end-of-term paper about stages and grief and whatever, oh also she’s partnered with Mark Lee, this guy that we both know from high school, and she dislikes his guts, oh you know him? 

“Wait. You know him?” You repeat, and Daniel nods, ruffling his black mullet. “His room’s, like, three away from mine. He’s studying Theoretical Physics, right? Yeah, he’s always in his room doing school shit, but every weekend he’s out with the upperclassmen. He’s probably out now, ‘cause it’s Friday. How he even charmed them, though, is a mystery.”

Mid-dumpling, you roll your eyes. “Y’know, the hardest part is being partnered with him. But also, even finding what kind of gradual process to relate denial and anger too is weirdly hard. It feels like I could find something, but I haven’t gotten it…quite…” you trail off, your eyes landing on Lia and Daniel across you—they’re smiling softly at each other, and you distinguish their fingers interlocking quietly, as if you wouldn’t notice. 

“…yet. Except maybe I have. How would you want to participate in my end-of-term paper?” Their gazes turn to yours, and you nod frantically. “Oh my god, I’m a genius! Seriously! Falling in love! Yes! It’s denial—anger—whatever, whatever! It makes perfect sense. The end is acceptance, too! Oh god, Li, it’s perfect. I will owe you for life if you help me out.”

“Wait, what? You dove straight into it, what—recap, please,” Lia asks, and you compose yourself before explaining giddily. 

“Falling in love. It happens gradually, and we can compare it to the stages of grief. Seeing as you and Daniel are headed right there, we can use you as some test subjects. It’s not required to have respondents or subjects, really, it’s just an extensive paper, but it might help get the grade up. This is gonna be great, and if you ever wanna back out, you can, because it’s not mandatory.” Lia and Daniel meet eyes briefly, and then slowly, nod. “Okay, that’s pretty smart,” Daniel says, “I’m up for it. Are you?” Lia nods, slowly and hesitantly, and you smile widely. “You two just saved my Psych grade. I’ll be at Giselle’s tonight. Just…not on my bed.” You grab your keys and phone and bound out of your room, straight into the elevator at the end of the hall.

The elevator door nearly closes when a Converse-clad foot steps in, and your eyes rake up the figure, eventually landing on his face. 

“Jesus fuck,” you mumble, “you must be kidding me.” 

Mark enters the elevator with a small, teasing smile, hands tucked into his jacket’s pockets. “Hey, dude, what’s up? Was on your floor on my stop down to get some money Lucas owed me,” he says, “this is actually a godsend, because my genius brain found us a project idea. Relate grief to something else gradual? Easy as pie. Falling in lo—” 

You cut him off before he can finish, “Falling in love, right. I thought of it first, earlier,” you say profusely, absently noting the pettiness in your tone. He whistles. “No need to get all possessive over an idea the previous classes have used before, man.” You continue, ignoring him. “Whatever. Lucky for our grades, I went the extra mile to get us some test subjects. Do you know the two Chois? Lia and Daniel?” 

He nods once, “Yeah, their PDA on Instagram is fucking sickening, but I see your technique, and I like that—we get some extra data from their god awful PDA.” You nod once, and he continues. “It’s nearing 11 on a Friday night. Whose party are you headed to?”

“You’re welcome for the test subjects,” you gripe. “Anyway, I was so giddy about coming up with it, I just left them to…well, fornicate. As a compromise for being lab rats. I texted my…” you realize you’re starting to share too much to a guy you typically dislike talking to, and then there’s a silence in the air that’s painfully awkward. 

“You texted your…?” Mark asks. “My friend, but she’ll be home at 1AM, so I’m out to kill time. No parties, just…I dunno.” He nods again, and then the elevator lets out a blissful ding. You step out simultaneously, and then he faces you. “Look, it’s freezing out, you’re in shorts and a puffer coat, and it’s three hours to 1AM, so I doubt you’ll get far.” You scoff at his words despite feeling your legs shake from the breeze outside. “I’ll be fine, dumbass.”

“Just concerned,” he says, in a tone that sounds more blank than annoyed, but he turns and heads toward the door anyway. He swivels back around briefly. “It’s in Johnny’s apartment. Just a couple people, if you get bored freezing.” He jogs outside then, and you inwardly appreciate the small gesture, but again, annoyance returns just as quickly. You linger a bit before heading out yourself, walking briskly to a local Japanese restaurant. You consider this an opportunity to have some me time, some rest after a shitty week in university. Lasting ’til 1AM alone and entertained would not at all be a problem. 

You last one ramen bowl and head to Johnny’s apartment.

—

When Johnny Suh answers the door, he’s clad in a makeshift shower curtain gown of sorts, and is flushed and very buzzed all over. He hikes up the top to cover his chest and laughs profusely. “Did Mark invite you?” Behind him is a sizeable group of just about twenty people, which looks like forty in a cramped communal space. You’d been here before—Johnny likes to invite just about anyone to get stoned and listen to Kid Cudi on Fridays, and you had pushed Lia to accompany you before. 

You distantly spot the kitchenette, the small living room, and then the two bedroom doors opposing each other. “The rule was to show up wearing something not marketed as clothing, but Mark didn’t follow the rules, so. Anyway, you’re off scot-free, too…” he pauses, “…if you take off the puffer coat. We’ve got heating, anyway. Free booze and weed, too.” You figure being in a flimsy tank top isn’t so bad—you’re sure half the people here are already getting laid or trying to, and nobody would really pay attention to you.

You shrug off the coat as Johnny steps aside to let you in, hugging it close to your body and navigating your way to the kitchen. The granite counters are filled with various bottles of booze, and you also note the cigarettes and blunts lining the island. You peruse the brands before settling on a sealed can of decidedly not-so-cheap-looking beer, and crack it open to take a swig. It’s warm and fucking disgusting, but there’s not much glitz in an “anything but clothing” off-campus college party anyway. 

There are several people scattered among the living area, passing around a blunt—another group is playing suck and blow. You make your way over to the cheap couch on the far end of the room, taking a seat on the arm and stretching out your hand to claim the blunt. It’s Jae who passes it to you—Jaehyun Jung, an upperclassman whose infamy (for wearing nothing but toilet paper and running through campus) greatly surpasses him. “Who are you?” he asks, and you holler your name back over the Kanye West song playing in the background. “Mark invited me,” you tack onto the end as compensation.

He nods in understanding, watching you take a drag and pass it back to him. He only hands it back, saying, “It’s nearly done, just finish it,” and getting up to probably get some booze or another blunt. 

You scan the area for a better place to cherish your weed, because you’re definitely not going to do it on the arm of a couch housing three couples making out to the high heavens. You spot an open window and a fire escape just beside the kitchen and walk over, ducking into the cool night air. It’s not quiet, it never is, and you treasure the peace that comes with the noise, closing your eyes and trying to milk the last few drags. All that is flushed down the drain when somebody kicks you out of your reverie and your last two drags are falling down, through the grills of the fire escape. 

“What the fuck?” You look up to meet, of course, Mark’s gaze, teasing and mischievous. 

“That wasn’t fucking funny, asshat. Get away from me.” You get up instantly, ducking back into the house and searching for your coat. It’s (very unfortunately) buried under a couple who have escalated from making out to borderline public indecency.

“Fuck it,” you mumble, swinging the door open and mentally preparing yourself for the cold once you get to the sidewalk, floors down. Mark follows suit, a laugh gracing the atmosphere around the two of you. “You know, I forgot how fun it is to make you pissed off. I did it all the time in eighth grade when I told our teacher you knew the solution to the Physics problems.” You’re fucking pissed. However petty, you’re fucking annoyed that you couldn’t finish the blunt, and you pay no attention to him. 

He badgers on anyway. “Hey—it was a mistake, I wanted to say hi to you.” You scoff, finally turning—“Why? Because we’re friends? We’re not. We’re Psych partners, we came from the same high school, we share a couple mutual friends. But you and I are not friends, not objectively, anyway. Please, Mark. I only just re-acquainted myself with you today, but, like, you’re already so annoying!” You’re at the elevator now, and when the doors slide open, you step inside and let them close at once. You barely catch the unreadable look on his face in your annoyance, and you lean against the wall, shutting your eyes and breathing heavily. 

How you’d even get to Giselle’s, or how you would wait out the remaining half-hour before she got home, was just up to whichever higher power happened to be witnessing you that night.

—

The door of your professor’s office closes with a saddening click. You stare back at her name, embossed on the wood in bold, in defeat, accepting your fate with a heavy heart. Just fifteen minutes prior, you had entered with a whole spiel prepared on how you just had to swap with somebody from your class so you wouldn’t have to work with Mark. This speech had occurred twice now—with your TA, and then once with your professor. This was your second chance, your redemption: so you prepared notes, you prepared convincing words—you had a point. 

But your professor simply shooed you away, muttering how she didn’t have time for you because she was going to be receiving hundreds of papers in a few weeks’ time from a different class and she, quite honestly, couldn’t be bothered. You bite your lip, thinking back to the previous Friday—it was nearing two weeks since your small outburst at Mark. Since then, you’d expected to build a silent rapport of just working, observing Lia and Daniel, and then parting. And that was almost it. You would show up to your so-called “lab rat sessions”, cup of warm caramel latte in hand, and work. 

Except Mark would constantly make noise, jeer, swipe your pen, and do other things that got on your nerves.

“You’re going to have to stop trying sometime,” Lia says, backhugging you. She’d been waiting outside. You let your head loll back onto her shoulder and whine. “Do you know when you’re so frustrated you want to cry? Yeah? That’s exactly how it is, Li. I can’t keep up with this for another two, three months. It’s like he’s not even, like, fuck, like he’s not even trying, y’know? We’re building the foundation of a pages-long paper. This isn’t some finals essay he can bullshit in three hours.” 

You groan as Lia pulls away from you, whirling you around to face her. “It’ll be fine, I swear to you. I’ll help out, anytime you need it. I promise. If I start hating Daniel, I’ll even pretend like I’m in love with him. Head over heels.” You let yourself laugh and pull out your phone as you two begin to walk towards your dorm.

She tsks. “We’re gonna have a thing tonight, right? Like, a lab rat session?”

You nod, squinting over your calendar app. “Yeah, at around 5:30 to 6. It’ll be quick, but Mark and I are gonna have to stay behind to divide the work for the general paper and then start. Hopefully we can get some outlining done by tonight…so don’t wait up,” you sigh. She smiles apologetically, pinching your waist affectionately. 

“Daniel and I will totally help you. He’s a Mark anti now. I told him about the party outburst thing.” You had sent her a slew of texts that night, and like every other story you had told (save for the most private ones), Daniel had caught wind of it. You’re half sure he was capable of blackmailing you at that point. “Good,” you shoot back, “I’m going to need all the anti-Mark force I can get.”

“Why?” You both turn to see Mark standing idly behind you. There’s a beat, and then: “You look like an inane stalker,” you retort, turning to continue walking. Lia follows suit—with the two of you, the vibe of the atmosphere would always come easy. If one was mad, the other would act mad, too. 

“Hey,” Mark repeats, falling into step beside you, “why do you need an anti-Mark force? Tell me.” At this point, your nerves are on fire and your blood is boiling, and you’re beginning to envision beating him up on the quad. “Mark, it’s been great, but we’re going to our dorm, and in case you don’t want to catch a restraining order, I suggest you get off at your floor instead of following us like a creep,” you say sweetly, quickening your steps until he’s far behind you, smiling. Fucking asshole. 

“I’ll see ya this evening, then,” he teases, and you grumble under your breath.

—

It’s 5:45 when Lia and Daniel leave the library—fifteen minutes early. You and Mark leave ten minutes later, hours before you were supposed to complete your task. You’re fuming, and for once, Mark has the decency to read the room and feel remorse. 

The evening had started off well enough, though—Lia and Daniel had showed up, did their thing, described what was happening, and you and Mark had noted it down. And then, well. Mark spilled water all over your planner, which, in hindsight, was definitely unintentional, but in the spur of the moment, you could do nothing but your natural—everybody’s natural—response to getting something precious ruined. You began to cry. “What the fuck,” you sniffled, “is wrong with you?!” You had shaken the majority of water off your planner, but any and all dates had been smudged and bled, and you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him. “I know I called you annoying, but this is too far,” you had said, watching his face go from teasing to genuinely sorry. “Dude, it was accidenta—” 

“I don’t give a fuck—!” You quickly cut yourself off and wipe your tears when you see a young library assistant heading towards your table. Everybody composes themselves—Lia and Daniel straighten out the things on the surface and Mark sits up straight. “Hey,” he says. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but two students already came in with a noise complaint. We’re gonna have to ask you to,” he makes a gesture, “leave for now and come back tomorrow. Also, the puddle on the table…yeah. I’m really sorry.” He leaves, as if to make sure you have no other choice but to just go, and you slump back onto your chair in exhaustion. 

“You two can go ahead,” you hear Mark say, “I’m really sorry about this. We’ll clean up and apologize.” Faintly, you hear them get up, and you feel Lia’s hand squeeze yours as she promises a text and food later. You let your eyes remain shut, drinking in the quiet, trying to calm your inner turmoil.

Ten minutes later, when you’re out in the cold November air, Mark finally speaks. You had cleaned up and collected your things in silence. “I’m really sorry,” he says, “it was an accident, for real. I know I tease a lot, but, uh, I’m being serious. I would never have done that on purpose. I see you write shit on that thing a lot, so…I know how much you like it. Treasure it…? I don’t—whatever it is, I’m really sorry. Like, really. T’was an accident. If you need me to pay for it…” You shake your head softly, hugging your damp planner closer to your sweater-clad chest. “It’s okay. Thanks, anyway. For helping. I’ll email you what you have to do. Bye,” you turn and begin walking in the direction of your dorm. The sun is beginning to set, golden orange hues casting a vast array of colors onto the landscape of the city. You sigh softly, heart heavy with annoyance and exhaustion, and speed up before you start having a mini-breakdown.

—

Stage 1: Denial|

Your cursor blinks back at you as you finish typing in your outline for the introduction. It’s early into November, but already, you’ve had to shut your window to shielf yourself from the biting breeze outside. Across you, Lia applies mascara and talks to you. “What are you up to?” she asks, face contorted. 

“This godforsaken paper,” you mumble back, “just finished the introduction outline. I’m trying to give a loose definition for each gradual ‘stage.’” Shoving your Macbook off your lap, you get up to stretch. “Which I’ll probably find on Google Scholar, honestly. If you had to give me a definition—what’s denial?” 

She hums contemplatively, wand on lash, and then pipes up. “I think it’s just a stage where you can’t face the fact that you’re interested in that person. Like, why them? With Daniel, he wasn’t really my type. So the whole denial was denying I liked him, because…well, yeah. But I think it differs. Some people deny it because they’re shy, or ashamed, or weirded out that they even like them.”

You’ve had your fair share of crushes before, and sure enough, you had denied them all. But that was high school—college, though, had only brought short-lived flings and one night stands; you were an overachiever, much too committed to your own prosperity to pay mind to anybody else for too long. (Except Lia.) So you hadn’t really experienced the whole boyfriend-in-university thing—not that you particularly wanted to, but you were just human; you were curious. Lia had gotten it, and it looked wonderful. 

Speaking of—“So, a week without meeting Mark in person, huh? How is that going for you?” You scoff lightly, shaking your head as you pull your hair into a bun. “It’s going just fine. Dandy, actually. We work from our dorms and you and Daniel just update us. It’s a fine arrangement that I regret was not formulated sooner.” Lia nods in understanding, and you watch her pull on a top, mutter I’m out and head outside. For the fifth time this week, you’re alone in the dorm, with nothing but your Alexa playing SZA and your laptop. You pull it onto your lap again, staring at the boldface letters you had typed minutes prior: denial. You had no firsthand experience of being mature and going through denial; not in that way, anyway. You found it stupid that people even denied when it would be less painful to just admit interest.

You blow a raspberry as you research studies related to the term, bored out of your mind.

—

Two days later, you meet Mark again. 

You’d also had the pleasure of, for a minute or two, meeting a friend of his, Donghyuck Lee from Economics. He’s loud and amusing and, from your viewpoint, undeserving of somebody as boring as Mark. (That’s from a minute-long intercation.) 

At Lia’s insistence (and likely Daniel’s, too), you two met up to properly work and collaborate. In fear of being kicked out again, the four of you had chosen to meet somewhere else—a cafe off-campus affectionately named something along the lines of Saltwater Coffee. Naturally, after Donghyuck leaves, you find yourself sitting idly (awkwardly) beside Mark. “They won’t be long,” he says suddenly, “er, Daniel just texted me. They’re near.” You nod, pursing your lips, eyes trained onto your laptop. “We’re almost done formulating the denial stage and we can start outlining anger and bargaining. This’ll take about a week more—maybe mid to late November? Uh, I know it seems justifiable to slack off with the holidays,” you say, “but I really want us to finish this early. The due date’s in mid-February, so we can pass this on the 14th.” You turn to face him. “Get it? ‘Cause it’s Valentine’s Day.”

He nods. “Okay. No slacking. I get it. The Valentine’s is smart, too.” You nod back in silent understanding, turning back to type frantically into your keyboard. 

You hear the door jingle and Lia’s small “hey, guys”, so you look up and offer a smile. “I’m gonna go order everyone some coffee,” Mark says beside you, getting up and shuffling over to the counter. Daniel joins him, and Lia takes a seat across you, her smile knowing and apologetic. “Everything okay?” You blow a raspberry, but smile, anyway. “It’s not so bad. It could be better, but no more banter, just very annoyed auras…? You get it. It’s just been tough trying to divert my focus to this and ignore all the annoyance I feel.”

“Totally, I get that,” she says, “but all the same, I’m glad he’s matured a little bit and lessened all the ribbing.” You smile at that, agreeing, and then the conversation spirals into one about both of your days—“Professor Callahan totally pops a stiffy over Professor Michaelson”, “Daniel tells me Joshua cheated. Yes, on Jess!”, “Mia dropped out the other day and nobody knows why, hope she’s okay”—before Daniel and Mark return, coffee cups in hand. Mark places one next to you, and profusely, you look up at him, who’s just about to sit. 

“Thanks, but I don’t drink brewed coff—”

“It’s a caramel latte, the only thing you drink. Heard you say that to Lia once.” He takes a seat and pulls his laptop open. 

You stare at him, taking the cup and bringing it to your lips. Sure enough, it’s caramel—thick, and foamy, and sweet. You look up at him again, but he’s busy on Google Scholar, perusing through journals and studies. You shake your head before turning to Lia, who’s already looking at you, expression mirroring yours. 

Sweet, she mouths, but you purse your lips and choose not to acknowledge it. “Thanks,” you say quietly, and he hums to say you’re welcome. 

Your eyes flicker to him. He’s wearing a knitted sweater, but he’s pulled it up to his elbows. He’s typing quickly, and he can use all his fingers, too (you fail miserably at that), and his brows are furrowed as if he’s stressed, or in a hurry. You’ve never really noticed this much of Mark before. It’s probably, you think absently, because you’re confused. Puzzled at the gesture that you didn’t expect—at all.

After an hour, he angles his laptop to yours. “Nailed the intro. High five?” You open the Google doc on your own browser, and sure enough, the word count has increased monumentally. You can’t deny his knack for writing. “There are a few discrepancies in grammar,” you say instead. “But…okay. This is good.” You ignore his hand, in mid-air, and continue researching. 

Lia holds in a giggle, but turns back to Daniel, who, after fifteen minutes, turns to you and Mark. “Lia and I are heading out, guys,” he says, and Lia quickly tacks on. “Hey, if you need me to stay, I can,” she says quickly, but you smile and shake your head. 

“This might take a while. Go ahead. See ya at the dorm, Li. Bye, Daniel.” Mark bids his farewells, too, and they leave you alone in the cafe. It’s nearing a three hour crunch when he abruptly gets up to stretch, a low grunt leaving his lips. “I’m exhausted,” he sighs, “but at least we’re nearly done with this whole denial thing.”

“We’re actually only just starting,” you state, “this is going to go through a lot of editing and proofreading.” 

He chuckles and walks back to the counter to order something, and you shut your laptop to rest your eyes. Your glasses rest uncomfortably on the bridge of your nose as you breathe deeply. You lose track of time, and you open your eyes ten minutes later, fumbling to get up properly. There’s a panini beside your laptop, wrapped neatly in a tissue and laid on a plate. Mark’s is empty, save for crumbs, and he says nothing. 

“Get up,” he remarks teasingly after a while, and you groan in exhaustion. “I am, I’m up,” you mutter, straightening your back and flexing your neck. Inwardly, you wonder if you should thank him for the panini that is obviously yours that you obviously did not buy for yourself. 

Then Mark’s hand stretches out to take the panini, and he takes a bite. “Sorry,” he says, “I had to put my second sandwich in your space. This table’s a little small.” You hum back in acknowledgement, nodding once. “It’s, uh…all good,” you respond, voice small as you type into your laptop. Internally, your body fills slowly with humiliation and confusion, but you stay quiet, and that’s how the rest of the night goes: a silent, steady beat of keyboard clicking and the occasional question. 

No banter, no nothing—it’s a godsend, yes, it is, but you can’t help but miss the abrasive, playful conversations the two of you had built up over the previous several weeks. But really—had you truly assumed he had bought you a panini? As if a coffee wasn’t enough? You felt at odds with yourself for even expecting such a gesture from the guy whose main habit was to annoy you to the ends of the Earth.

“It’s late,” he says, as if he’s reading your mind and knowing you’re absolutely mortified inside. “Let’s head home.” You nod, deeming the night’s work satisfactory—maybe even beyond, considering the amount of effort you both put into the output. You shove your laptop and charger into your bag and pocket your phone, lingering awkwardly and waiting for Mark to finish packing up. He’s particular with it—he has little sections in his backpack for the wires and chargers, and even his AirPods, and his laptop. 

“Very organized,” you find yourself commenting offhandedly, your tone taking on a teasing edge. He glares playfully back at you. 

“Sorry I don’t want my wires to break,” he shoots back, eyeing your flimsy tote bag, “unlike some people.” You roll your eyes and, against your strongest wills, a smile appears on your lips, albeit a small one. His eyes linger on your smile for a little bit before he clears his throat and zips up his knapsack. “Let’s, er, go. Thank Jesus we’re in the same building.” When you exit, the air bites at you despite the jacket covering your body, and you quicken your pace. “It’s cold as hell.”

“Ironic,” Mark says. You hide a smile.

—

That’s what November brings you—the next week and a half are composed of just slowly learning to get used to working with Mark again and going home late into the night, crunching to the max. 

Your paper begins to take on more and more structure, and two out of the six days you’ve met, Mark has set down a caramel latte for you to arrive to. The acoustic music slowly phases into holiday guitar, and the coat rack at the entrance is weighed down more and more as the days pass, preparing to welcome December. 

You and Mark work silently, save for the rare banter and eyeroll, and very gradually, the annoyance that had bubbled up within seconds before had sank down. You’re not friends, per se—it’s just that the frustration and exasperation had lessened considerably. 

You were civil. That’s it. You won’t try to deny that you’ve been thinking about this a little too much—about what your “friendship” had become with Mark. You hadn’t snapped at him in days, and he hadn’t tugged at your ballpen in even longer. It wasn’t that you had cowered him into silence by crying over your planner—it may have instigated it, but his behavior was…different. 

More calm, more sure. Less childish. He would still tease you, but not as much. It’s nearing mid-November now, and you’ve successfully done much of your introduction and denial, needing less and less of Lia and Daniel’s presence. (Which you’re sure they’re grateful for.) But being left alone with Mark isn’t as bad as you once thought—

“Hello. Earth to you,” you distantly hear, and you whip your head in the direction of the voice as you pace back to your dorm building. Mark stares blankly back at you. “What,” you mumble back. He quirks a brow before continuing. “I was saying, I think I need to take a rain check tomorrow. The, uh”—he clears his throat—“um, yeah.”

You eye him. “Okay…?”

He nods profusely, “Yeah, all good.” The walk continues in silence, the sun finally setting down behind the Manhattan skyline beyond you and the breeze taking on a chillier temperature. You sigh softly, fatigue overtaking you as you stare at the building nearing you. “If you take a rain check, just make sure you write it within the day or after,” you say, half-sternly and half-tiredly. He mumbles a “got it” and you both jog up the steps to the lobby, where you run into, by some weird twist of the day, a small group of anti-abortion protesters.

“Jesus Christ,” Mark mutters under his breath. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You rub the bridge of your nose in your fingers, choosing to tune them out and instead maneuver your way through the door. Before you can even take a step, though, they’re all up in your face with pamphlets and brochures and a guitar. “Excuse me,” you grunt, trying to gently push them aside, but they only come on stronger. “A child is a child,” they say. “If you know anybody who’s—”

“Is this your new initiative? Preying on college students on school grounds, unaccounted for?” Mark asks from behind you. You turn to find he’s filming and stifle a laugh. “I’m surprised nobody’s kicked you out. Won’t be long, now,” he adds with a smile. 

You tune out nearly everything else—it’s really just them telling Mark to stop recording and him retorting with equally snarky phrases. It’s not until maybe after a solid two minutes of back and forth that one of them, a weird middle-aged woman, pulls out a burgundy gummy bear from a bag and pushes it into Mark’s camera. He takes it from her and examines it, puzzled. “That,” she says matter-of-factly, “is the approximate size of a fetus. It’s big. It’s sentient, alive. What, I beg of you, what would you do?”

Mark squints at it. Then he pops it into his mouth, takes your hand, and runs straight to the elevator across the floor. 

“There’s a bunch of anti-abortion people outside, it’s not cool!” He hollers to the receptionist before the doors close with a damning click. 

There’s a beat, and then.

Both of you are doubling over in laughter. “Why the hell would y—why would you do that?! You’re insane!” The response is: “Because they’re not cool! They’re fuckin’ annoying! So I ate their baby!” There are tears in your eyes, your laughter so hard it’s nearing silent—Mark’s, though, is loud and annoying sounding, though you seem to not mind so much. The laughter subsides when the ding of your floor sounds and you straighten yourself up. Getting into a different position reminds you of the very there, very obvious brushing of your hand against Mark’s, which he’d taken just moments earlier, post-baby eating.

You freeze and jerk your hand away. “I’ll, um, go now,” you say, “I’ll see you tomorr—no, the day after.” Against your wills, you meet his eyes, and you’re surprised to find that he’s already looking at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Okay,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours. Your heart beats faster at a very small increment, but you head out and semi-run to your room, swinging it open and leaning against it. 

You look up to find Lia and Daniel engaged in a heated Monopoly match. You make no noise, mind (and heart, but you can’t tell why) racing fast. You watch them play for a second before they both look up slowly.

“You’re smiling like a goddamn idiot,” Daniel says. Your face falls immediately. “I’m, um, no I’m not,” you say casually, pacing over to your bed and flopping onto it. Lia laughs loudly. 

“That sounded so freaked. Like we’re your mom and you just brought weed home kind of freaked.” Pause. 

“Are you hiding something from me?” She rises from her spot to look at you, head in pillow and all, and you let out a muffled “no!”, probably too defensive for your own good. 

It’s Daniel’s turn to snort. You look up and glare at him, “You’re getting too comfortable for your own good. You need to humble yourself, Daniel. What’s it again? Oh yeah, Yeonjun, right?” He rolls his eyes at the use of his Korean name and turns back to the Monopoly board.

Lia flops atop you, eliciting a grunt from your lips. “Are you okay? Did somebody flirt with you? Did Mark finally fuck off and leave you alone properly?” 

At the mention of Mark, your heart races—you will it to stop, and audibly groan in the process. “What is it, you bitch?” Lia asks, tugging on a section of your hair. “It’s nothing, Li! Nothing, I promise.” She glares at you before walking to Daniel and covering his ears. Instantly, he begins to let out a chorus of Lalala, and deeming the environment safe enough, you let it slip.

“Mark and I held hands. But it—”

“You what?!”

“It really, really doesn’t mean anyth—”

“How can that not mean anything? It’s hand holdi—”

“If you would listen to the backstory you’d know!” She pauses, and then uncovers Daniel’s ears and knees him. 

“Okay, get out. Monopoly postponed, Jun,” she says, pushing him out insistently. He barely collects his phone and keys before he’s out, but you swoon silently when you catch him pressing a short goodbye kiss to her forehead before actually leaving. She turns immediately, fire and curiosity awfully evident in her face. 

She nears you. “Explain.” 

And that’s what sparks the story of the weird protesters, Mark’s power move, and the unintentional hand hold that lasted a few moments too long. She nods the entire time, laughing, and then her face straightens out again. You can almost hear the gears in her head turning as she analyzes the situation, and then she nods once. 

“Okay. Perfectly justifiable to freak out.” Another pause. “But why were you smiling?” You stare blankly back at her, head working impossibly quick to formulate a reply. You’ve taken too long now, judging by the way Lia is looking at you with the most shit-eating grin on her fucking face. You groan.

“You like him, you bitch!” 

You shake your head, facing her. “I don’t, dude. Trust me. I just…it was a fun experience, so naturally I’d be laughing. And smiling. But I’m just not interested in Mark! I’m not,” you fumble, being completely honest. 

You didn’t—not even if you looked in the mirror and asked yourself. But you couldn’t deny the feelings you felt in the ten seconds from the elevator to your room, your heart racing and your fist curling and uncurling. When you look at Lia again, she’s still smiling, flushed. “You like him,” she says into her palm, which she’s slapped over her mouth in disbelief. You stare back at her, your expression baffled. “If I did,” you begin, getting up to discard your shirt, “I’d have told you by now. It’s really not that big of a deal unless you make it out to be.”

After that, you and Mark spend nearly three weeks walking on eggshells around each other. While conversations are no longer avoided, and you could talk without getting exasperated or too embarrassed, finger brushes are frequent, and eye contact only makes you extremely nervous. You had worked until the second stage—anger—already, but you’d still been polishing the denial and introduction. Considering November wasn’t over and the paper was due February, you figured you were moving at an okay pace. Besides, a lot of your friends hadn’t even begun.

—

There are two instances where you rush home, mortified beyond belief.

The first when when you struck up a conversation with the cute, Australian barista. Scrawled in big penmanship on his name tag is Chan. You had brought up, in passing, how often you’re at the cafe and how you probably deserve a free drink. He replied with a low hum, and you dialed down your flirty tone, slightly embarrassed. But not really. You’ve rejected plenty of people before. It’s when you’re already paying for your drink that he replied, handing you your (for a change) iced matcha with a small grin. 

“I’d have flirted with you weeks ago if you didn’t have your boyfriend with you all the time. He’s always buying you your drinks.” You spluttered for a good second, staring at him incredulously. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you finally said. 

He had shrugged, nonchalant. “He sure as hell looks at you a lot for someone you’re not dating. And you do it just as much, if not more. I’m observant, by the way. Not a stalker.” You had taken your cup and paced over to the other end of the cafe, sat across Mark, cheeks heated.

He looked up, brow raised. You shook your head.

The second time was when Donghyuck graced you both with his presence. You quickly found out that he was a magnetic presence and you both shared similar interests. The energy you both created was both amusing and annoying to Mark. 

Although you kept quiet mostly, you enabled Donghyuck’s incessant teasing, which annoyed Mark to the ends of the Earth. “You’re a dork. Isn’t he?” You look up and nod with a smile. Mark rolls his eyes, sending Donghyuck into a laughing frenzy. Mark just grunts and continues typing.

Hyuck had made a joke about how two Physics textbooks discussed why the sad man named Mark owns two of them and didn’t have a life, and you laughed. 

You didn’t usually laugh, not around Mark, at least, since it was safe to say you didn’t have any source of entertainment in such a boring guy. But you laughed at the witty joke, and Donghyuck, without thinking much, had said in passing: “Mark, I guess you’re right about everything about her being pretty.”

Mark said nothing, typing. You said nothing. Nobody said anything, not even a sly Donghyuck or, from the counter, an even slyer Chan.

—

When you see Mark next, it’s three days later, and it’s, for the second time, in Johnny’s apartment. 

Lia had asked if you wanted to tag along, and you found no harm in going. (“You’re going because Mark is” becomes Lia’s favorite phrase of the night, so much it’s spread to Daniel, who you’d succumbed to and spilled everything to hours prior.) The walk there has something boiling low in your gut and you’re quiet, in fear you might end up vomiting in nerves or saying something stupid. Lia teases you, but her hand clasping yours reassures you, and you squeeze it tightly. 

You get there late—it’s past 1AM, and you have a sense of deja vu walking into the cramped space. It’s fuller this time—people are creeping into the bedrooms to smoke in private or do some other things, but suffice to say it’s crowded as fuck.

“Want a drink?” Lia hollers, and you nod over the music. Johnny’s neighbor is another upperclassman named Doyoung, though he’s mainly referred to as Doie by just about everybody around him.

You’ve seen his girlfriend call him bunny a few times, though you’ve long desired to repress that memory. 

Judging by the fact that you can faintly hear a different song from the next room, the party has probably extended to Doyoung’s. There’s quite a gathering this week—the rich freshman who you’d befriended once before, Chenle, and his horde of friends are here; from Lia, who hands you a drink, you learn that Kun and Sicheng, two incredibly attractive juniors, are here, too—in Doie’s, though. The party only intensifies, which is hard, because Johnny’s apartment is very tiny.

Eventually, you find yourself in the bathroom, smoking a joint you’d grabbed out of the clammy hands of a tipsy Chenle and kicking a couple out under the guise that you’re Johnny’s cousin. Chenle had protested but eventually given in, pulling a new one out of his pocket.

The bathroom light is white and harsh, but there’s a very funky lamp at the corner. From your place inside the dry (and thankfully clean…looking) bathtub, you eye it. It’s a tall one in the shape of a glass of margarita. 

You heave yourself up and find the switch, and then when it’s on, you giggle at the green light emitting from it. You have absolutely no idea why Johnny, Jaehyun, or their roommate Jungwoo (3J, as some call them) have a decorative, margarita-shaped green lamp, and in their bathroom nonetheless, but you shut off the main light and return to smoking your blunt. Deciding your ass aches far too much, you lean against the tile wall and cherish the smoke.

The door opens abruptly, and you curse, pushing it back closed. 

“I have explosive diarrhea,” you say robotically, using the same excuse you did for the previous three couples that showed up. 

From the other side, you hear a shrill laugh and sound of confusion. When you peer over the other side and see Mark, you groan and laugh. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I saw you come in. Like, twenty minutes ago.”

“I’m cherishing the party privately.”

Mark ushers himself into the dark space and shuts the door. He makes a show of locking it, as if to show you it’s possible to do so. The sound of it locking sends a wave of nerves up your spine. 

“I didn’t lock it in case a medical emergency happens and they have to rush inside.” 

Mark quirks his brow. “I doubt they would think to go inside the restroom and not panic and call 911, you know.” 

You shrug in indifference and take another drag, reluctantly offering it to him.

He takes it, and you pause for a second to observe him. His hair, dark, and which usually covers his entire forehead like a broom or at least parts in the middle slightly, is now styled differently. 

He’s in a fitting black shirt and blue jeans, and, upon your closer inspection, silver rings adorn his fingers. You will yourself to look down. It’s dark. “What’s that you’re holding?” You ask instead, trying not to extend your stare at his shoulders.

“Your puffer coat,” he says, tossing it to you. “Left it last time.”

“That time when you annoyed the shit out of me, right,” you retort.

“Yes, exactly that time. That was ages ago. Weeks ago. Look at us now.”

“Us now—what, still disliking each other?”

He laughs humorlessly, but doesn’t entertain you further. He turns to the lamp instead. “Do you know I was there when they moved this in,” he begins, gesturing to it, “Jae got it at some weird, awful flea market, and he had to buy some extra wiring to fix it or whatever. I was doing Physics homework. It was at the start of this school year. And I bet you didn’t know…” he bends down and reaches to the base of the lamp, pressing a button, “that it changes color.”

The room is bathed in red now, and you swallow. “Interesting,” you manage to say, despite the racing in your head. “Very,” he responds, taking a step closer to you. You gaze up at him. He’s tall. You breathe softly. You nod in agreement. You don’t know what to do. You want to punch him and kiss him and leave all at once. 

You want to kiss him, oh God, you want to kiss him.

“Oh God,” you say softly, out loud. Oh fuck. Too much weed?

He inches closer, leaving the blunt on the rim of the sink. “Why?” He smiles a little and you smile back, nervous. He’s so close now, and he smells so good—like cologne and laundry and weed. You shake your head. “Nothing,” you mumble back.

He’s even closer now, eyes boring into yours. You adjust your strap, a nervous habit. He takes your hand and does it for you. “I like this song,” he says casually, like he’s not playing with the strap of your dress. “Do you know what it’s called?” It’s vaguely familiar to you, but you shake your head. 

“It’s Jhene Aiko,” he replies, and you nod. You gravitate closer.

You stare at him. He stares back. “I’m high,” you say. You giggle. “I had a brownie and that blunt.”

“That’s a lot,” he says. “Don’t finish the blunt, ‘kay?” You nod back, and giggle again. In two seconds, your nervous mechanism has kicked in and you’re laughing like a psycho. “I’m high,” you repeat, and then he kisses you, effectively sobering you up.

Huh. He kisses you, effectively sobering you up. He kisses you.

You kiss back, shocked and relieved, deepening it, trying to get as much of him as possible. His hands are big and wide and warm, traveling all over you. You want him. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, lips molding against yours deliriously. 

“Want you,” you say when his hands play with the hem of your dress, teetering closer and closer to your core. “I said, I want you,” you whine, “now.” Mark only laughs, his hands under your dress and playing with the lace waistband of your underwear. 

“I like how this feels,” he mumbles. “Wanna take a look.” You whimper, hiking your leg up and nodding. “Please, just…touch me,” you say breathlessly. “Please.”

“I will,” he says, voice calm. “You’re being good.” You can’t deny the noise you make at the praise, breathy and loud. You pull him in again, drunk for more, your hands raking through his hair. It’s dark, the both of you basking in the small red light. Mark hikes your dress up, inching it higher, slowly, until he sees the hem of your white lace underwear. He grunts and pulls at it. “I love this,” he says. “So fuckin’, Jesus.” 

You giggle against the smile. He toys with your panties for a bit before finally pulling them down, watching them sink to your ankles. “Hot,” he jokes, and you laugh in disbelief. “Why would you even be joking abou—”

“Mark! Let’s go, it’s 2:30!” Donghyuck’s voice is just as loud and clear as it would be if you weren’t separated by a door. Jolted, you and Mark instinctively break apart and stare at the rattling door. “Maaaark,” he sing-songs, knocking to a beat. You stare at Mark, waiting for him to respond.

“I have explosive diarrhea,” he says. You stifle a guffaw, pulling your panties up.

He pouts, tapping your ass. “Bullshit,” Donghyuck says from outside. “I’m cooomin’ in!”

In the span of a minute, where you realize Donghyuck is not bluffing and in fact has a stolen bathroom key from Jungwoo’s bedside drawer, you manage to shove yourself into the bathtub and hide yourself with the curtain. Mark switches the light back on, much to both of your disappointment, and pretends to smoke the blunt you’d left on the sink fifteen minutes ago. Ergo: pre-kiss.

You find your phone on the bathtub floor and grip it, turning the brightness down. You have a plethora of messages and voicemails from Lia, five calls from Daniel, and an interesting iMessage of Donghyuck’s red, weed-induced eyes from an unknown number. It could be anybody, and that scares you.

The texts are all frantic, and they’re the last things that bring you out of your high and back to reality. Where are u, who u with?, u getting railed??!, Have you seen mark?

“Hyuck, if I actually did have a shitstorm coming out of my ass, you’d be so sorry for breaking in,” you hear Mark say. You sink lower into the bathtub, awaiting Donghyuck’s voice. “You were the one who suggested we go at 2:30, and you’ve been smoking weed for the longest time, dipshit,” he says, “now let’s go. I haven’t seen your Psych girl all night, so you can cry about it at home.” You faintly detect Mark protesting and then, “Let me just freshen up! Just go ahead.”

Reluctantly, you peek out and find Mark alone. You get up and fix your dress.

You’re sober now. The red lights are gone. It’s just you and Mark, plain and simple. Your feelings haven’t gone away, though. You’re fucking fucked. You want him to fuck you. Oh, fuck.

“Go,” you say instead, spluttering. “And I’ll see you. Tuesday.”

You leave first despite yourself, not turning around for even a split second, finding a worried (and then relieved) Lia and taking five consecutive tequila shots to down the nerves and denial bubbling in your system. She raises a brow, but you refuse to even meet her eyes, head and heart pounding impossibly fast. You want to kiss him again. So, so bad. But what the fuck did you just let happen?

—

Stage 2: Anger|

Lia hadn’t pressed, and you were nervous, but it was getting easy to diverge the details of what happened during Johnny’s party. You had instead opted to work alone, too much of a coward to even see Mark’s face. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you feared you might just kiss him if you ever saw him. So you spent days at class working, and then at your dorm working, adjusting your route to avoid, as much as possible, Mark or Hyuck’s buildings and that godforsaken cafe. You did text Mark, though, and the exchanges were brief, not even a “thank you” or “good morning” preceding them. It was awful.

Working alone forced you into a heavy load of retrospection. You would think deeply, like how you are now, spiraling into a series of questions where you studied the play-by-play of what happened in the bathroom, up against the wall. You liked it. A lot. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t let yourself. Why it even happened…God. You mentally berated yourself for giving into it. Didn’t you hate him? Or at least dislike him? Didn’t you take pleasure in scolding him or fighting with him?

“You’re freaking me out,” Lia says from her bed. She’s been staring at you. “You’ve been lying on your bed staring at the ceiling for twenty straight minutes.” She walks over to you, flopping next to you, her arms winding around your body. “You can tell me anything.”

“I know,” you say, nervous. You gulp.

“Okay. If you’re n—”

“Mark and I kissed.”

She sits up and turns to look at you.

“Made out, more like. We were going to fuck if we didn’t get interrupted.” You’re mortified, refusing to meet her gaze. When you look up, her face is even, but you know she’s bubbling over with giddiness inside. “That is so fucking great, dude,” she replies. “Why are you so embarrassed?”

“Because it’s Mark,” you whine. “He’s not…I don’t know.”

She lies back down. “You’re overthinking this.” You laugh, poking her waist. “I know, but I just…I feel like he might not like me much anymore.” You recount the way you left him hanging, despite the lack of awkward air and the potential to talk and become something. She tsks but justifies it, because she’s so good at that, being a mediator, and you continue with your day quietly. 

Your mind is always on it, though, his hands and his lips, and you’ve scoured Spotify for the song playing that he had commented on.

It’s called Pussy Fairy. You cannot make it up. It’s a weird title, but the song is heavenly, and you can’t deny when it’s full blast on your AirPods and your hand is creeping closer and closer there, trying desperately to replicate what you felt in that moment. When you’re not sated, ashamed and sighing, you resort to working on your paper. There are moments where both you and Mark are working at the same time, and you hate yourself for getting all flustered when it happens. 

—

It’s a Tuesday, in the early afternoon, when you’re out of class and cleaning out the little litter in your dorm, repasting whatever decorations fell off, et cetera. You have the time, anyway, and it wouldn’t hurt to fix the place up a bit. You’re halfway into re-stringing Lia’s fairy lights when someone knocks on the door, jolting you. You curse under your breath, hopping off her bed to swing the door open and reveal—

“What is up?!” Donghyuck grins back at you. His hand is raised in a high-five invitation, which you hesitantly reciprocate. “Mark tells me you’re meeting today, and that I should come remind you, since it seems like you forgot. He says you haven’t texted all day. Since I was on this floor—do you know Jeno Lee? Do you know it’s so amusing how Mark, Jeno, and I all have the same surname? Anyway. I was here on your floor to remind Jeno about an Econ presentation, and Mark texts me and goes, if you’re with Jeno, then remind you—you as in you, you—to come meet me and work.” 

He talks so goddamn fast. “You talk so goddamn fast.”

He just guffaws, high-fiving you again. “Well, you get my point, right? Meet Mark at the cafe and work is all he said to do. If you wanna.” You nod slowly, absorbing his words. “Tell him I’ll be a little late,” you say simply, and as you’re about to shut the door, he talks again, his voice quieter this time. “I know you were hiding behind the curtain.”

You pull the door open again, so fast a minuscule gust of wind washes over both of your faces. “You’re kidding,” you say, “you’re kidding.” You stare at each other for a second before his solem features break into a smile. “I am. Mark spilled everything to me, so I decided to trick you.” Relief and annoyance break over your system as you swat Donghyuck’s shoulder. “You’re a dick,” you spit. “You’re bringing a bad image to Econ majors.”

He merely laughs and closes the door himself, light brown hair fluffing with the severity of his laugh (cackle.) Slightly annoyed, you drag yourself to get dressed, dread building up in your stomach at the prospect of seeing Mark again. Not when your mind conjures up what happened everytime you just see his name. Or the word mark. You’ve been out of it since it happened, not even responding to your usual heated debates with the conservative Trump supporter in class. You suppose the best way to confront it is to simply confront it.

When you get there, though, it’s clear that confrontation would not be an option. Immediately, when you sit, the air shifts into something oddly familiar—the atmosphere between the two of you when you first got partnered up. Except now, Mark won’t even give you a pinch of attention, or banter, instead typing his questions into the document to avoid verbal conversation. (He is a fucking petty bitch, you’ll give him that.)

You stroll over to the counter, pout set on your lips. “Hello,” Chan says politely, and you just smile half-heartedly. “Lover’s quarrel?” He teases, and you roll your eyes. “He’s ignoring me,” you respond, watching him make you a latte. “And we’re not dating. We never were.”

“Mm, right,” he says, finishing and setting your drink in front of you. You laugh a little, taking it. “No. We weren’t. But I’ll update you.”

When you return, Mark’s looking at you, quiet as ever. You break his gaze and continue working, working and working until the sun sets, nestled deep behind the horizon. When you look up again, the sky is already dark, city lights providing solace to the place. You look at Mark quizzically, as if to ask him what time you should both leave, but he just shrugs. “Any time,” he states plainly, and huffing, you get up.

“I’ll go right ahead then,” you say, trying your best to sound annoyed and get your message across. He says nothing, watching you pack up your stuff and sling your bag over your shoulder, and then eventually, leave.

Daniel is the first to see you in your raged, annoyed state—you meet him in the elevator of the lobby, your blood boiling and your fists balled. Knowing you’re headed to the same floor, he presses the button, ruffles his hair, and then lets the silence take over. And then, “What’s going on?” You breathe deeply, turning to him with a tired look on your face. “Mark’s going on,” you mumble, “he was ignoring me the entire time. And to think he was the one who requested my presence! It makes no sense. Why would he ignore me when we can just talk about it?”

“About what?”

It suddenly occurs to you that Daniel knows about your weird feelings for Mark, but not how they culminated. You splutter. “Um, about us. Everything.” Daniel looks amused, but the doors open, and you thank them for the temporary exit from the topic. He stops you right outside, though, and pulls out two ticket, card-looking things. “Wait, um. Listen, Lia and I are going to reach our seven-month…anniversary, I guess, of, y’know, being a thing. I know it seems really small, but I want to give her a little something out of appreciation, so I got us a room at this ski lodge outside the city.”

“That’s so sweet,” you say honestly, “but I must admit, it comes on sort of stalker-y. Like you’re whisking her off out of the city.”

He beams even louder. “That’s why you’re coming. With Mark!”

You gape back at him. “Did you miss the whole I-hate-him thing that happened in there?” You jab your finger towards the closed elevator doors, disbelief written across your face. He laughs. “Sometimes you can’t keep hiding behind”—he begins walking to your room, and you follow suit—“emotions, like anger. When I liked Lia, there was a point where I was just pretending to alienate her so I wouldn’t have to face that I was starting to love her. Like her. And you know, she did it right back.” 

“Oh, quit it,” you scoff, insistent. “You’re lecturing me like you’ve been married a decade.”

“That’s what I want,” he says, and you gag. “The first step to that would be ski lodge trip, so you’re coming!”

You’re in front of your room now, and you pinch his wrist as he reaches for the handle, gaining his full attention. “I’ll gladly go,” you whisper, “if Mark’s out.” Daniel just laughs, shaking his head. “No, no. An overnight trip would delay your paper severely. Plus, they have two beds per room.”

“We’ll be staying in the same roo—hey, Li,” you say, quickly cutting your angry rant off when she opens the door, her face confused (to say the least.) 

“Mm, hey,” she says, ushering the two of you in. “How long were you two out there?” Daniel shrugs, ruffling his hair and then pressing a kiss on Lia’s forehead. You boo from your place on your bed, buried under your duvet. “You both suck,” you holler, “always sexing it up in a sacred space. AKA my room.” Lia just grins and jumps on top of you, drawing grunts from you both. Daniel seats himself on the floor and busies himself with his phone. “How was Mark,” she whispers into your hair, and you groan.

“Bad,” you respond, “I’m so annoyed. We’re back to square one.” She makes an apologetic noise and gets up with a sigh, adjusting the strings of her pullover and then hugging Daniel. You watch them. You want to kiss Mark again. Life sucks that way.

—

Predictably, Mark turns down the offer of the ski lodge. He’s polite about it, too, especially since he and Daniel have grown a little bit closer since the start of your project. Daniel is, by no means, a “Mark anti”, but he would participate in the ribbing sometimes. Still, he’s insistent on the trip, saying it’s the best way to welcome December and that the forecast predicts a nice, thick layer of snow. It takes a week and two coffees everyday for Mark to give in, under the condition that he buy his own room when you get there.

Which, honestly, really, you have no problem with. Really, you think to yourself as you unceremoniously shove a knitted sweater into your bag. Really. Lia, who had graciously accepted the surprise, watches you abuse your bag, shoving sweater and scarf inside like they want to murder you. “Relax,” she says after a while. You laugh, playing it off (not so) casually.

The drive up there, courtesy of Daniel and a borrowed Prius, is fun, and cramped, but still decent, considering it was just an hour long. You’re in the back with Lia, and Mark is in charge of the AUX, which, of course, comes with its own bout of jokes. You even find the heart to participate and laugh in a few, not daring to meet his eyes. But all his songs are so fucking good. Frank Ocean, Jhene Aiko, SZA, and smaller indie artists flow from the speaker under his phone. The car ride has its share of epic karaoke moments—Mark plays ABBA, and Queen, solely to make sure everybody is belting out to the high heavens.

You get there when the sky’s purple and orange and there are some skiiers scattered around, though, since it’s not the proper holiday period, not too much. You trek over to the main lodge and that’s where Daniel pays for his reservations, and he and Lia retire to their room and promise to get up for dinner. You’re, again, alone with Mark in the lobby as you both stare at each other, willing the other to get up first. He does, to buy his own room like he said he would, and you can faintly hear the exchange from your seat on their nice, fluffy couch.

“I’m sorry, sir. We’re renovating a majority of the rooms for the holidays. That’s why reservations were a prerequisite for staying here.”

Mark sighs. “Okay, right. I’m so sorry. Um”—it’s at this point that you go up next to him, polite smile on your face, ready to take the room key and fuck off—“could we just get an extra blanket, please? For one of the beds.” The receptionist gives a curt smile, handing over the keycard and nodding. “That’ll be one queen-sized warm blanket, then,” she hums, typing away. The receptionist beside her goes to the back, presumably to get the blanket. Mark nods, smiling. “For two queen-sized beds, it must be a big room for both of them to fit comfortably,” he comments offhandedly, fiddling with the card.

The receptionist chuckles. “There is only one bed, sir.”

Oh, God. “Oh, God,” you whisper. “One bed?” She nods with an eye-crinkling smile, like her words have not just rained hell upon the two people across her. “One bed and a sofa,” she corrects herself, reading the information on the computer by the desk. Not wanting to risk your last shred of sanity, you smile profusely, walking quickly towards your room which, thankfully, is on the same floor, at the end of the hall. It’s a small, quaint place that would be honest-to-God perfect if not for the fact that—

“There’s one bed,” Mark sighs, the truth clicking into place. “Daniel is a fucking shithead.” You drop your bag onto the carpeted floor, surveying the room with a scrutinizing gaze. It’s sizable—a bed, a couch, a window. There’s a small wooden desk that looks like its legs can barely hold its weight, and then another door, leading to the bathroom. It’s not bad at all. But you’re exhausted, the sun’s long gone, and your resolve is shredding away as the seconds tick by. “Take the couch,” you say dismissively, “or the carpet.” You make a beeline for the bed, but Mark’s arm wraps around your waist, effectively stopping you.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod “Shut up and let go of me, dick,” you stutter out. Mark loosens his grip and you shove him off, glaring at him. He gazes back down at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We can’t just make up terms without negotiation,” he says matter-of-factly, and you blow a raspberry. “Fine. Let’s negotiate then. I’m a girl and that puts me above you because chivalry isn’t dead, thus, boom, I get the bed.”

“I was in the uncomfortable passenger seat all day and my lower back hurts,” he counters.

“My legs are wobbly.”

“Bullshit. My back aches.”

“You already said that, it’s invalid.”

The back and forth only intensifies, your arguments growing more and more bizarre, until finally, your volume is so high Lia says she can hear it faintly, four doors down. 

“The couch looks comfy,” you try, but Mark stands firm. 

“Do you know what? The bed is big. It’s a big bed. And we’re not going to take up much space. If we divide the bed with the sofa pillows…” you pick up the cushions and line them up neatly along the middle, “…then we can sleep beside each other without having to make contact with each other.” He seems convinced, stepping closer to the bed and nodding. “Okay. I get first dibs on the shower.”

“Asshole,” you mutter, but you let him anyway. You’ve unpacked nearly all your things and he isn’t done yet, so you’ve resorted to scrolling mindlessly through Tiktok and laughing at just about everyone that pops up on screen. Mark finally exits after what feels like forever, and you keep your eyes trained on your screen to avoid looking at him. From your peripheral vision, he is very much shirtless. There are no words exchanged, the thickness in the air only building bit by bit.

—

Three hours later, post-dinner, post-abandoning the thought of working on your paper, you’re stumbling into your room after helping the very tipsy couple of the night into theirs. You’re beyond tired now, and you can tell Mark is, too, despite the lack of eye contact or communication between you. You don’t even look at him, brushing your teeth and removing your makeup and clipping your hair up into a bun. It’s when he does the same, and you’re both in bed, using your phones, that he finally breaks the silence.

“I’m not mad,” he says. His voice is even and calm, and you quickly shut your phone off and sit up, peering over the pillow boundary you had created. You look at him expectantly before he sighs and continues. “Why did you leave?”

You stand up, getting out, trying to increase distance. You’ve never really liked confrontation. “I was weirded out,” you spill, “and scared…? I guess with the nearness of being caught, and with all the lights on, I was just shocked back to reality.”

He sits up. “What’s reality?”

“I don’t—know,” you splutter, getting back on the bed. “Not kissing you?”

He laughs, and then it becomes silent. “Right. Let’s sleep, then.” Without another word, he pulls his lamp off, and only the white moonlight is left illuminating the both of you. Shucking yourself under the covers, feeling your heart practically thump out of your chest. You honestly think he can hear it, or at least feel it. Suddenly the boundary doesn’t do much. You turn away from him, nervous, and you can faintly hear his breathing even out. You shut your eyes for a second. When you open them again, he’s looking right at you. “Just checking to see if you’re asleep,” he says quietly. You nod. And then you lean upwards, just a touch, so your lips nearly brush slightly. “Night,” you say, before turning to sleep for real.

You’re not sure when. And how. Sure, you faintly remember digging your legs sleepily through the sheets to find warmth and tangling Mark’s in your own. But still—when you’re up, the pillow fort is at your feet, hanging precariously off the four post bed, and your back is against Mark’s chest. His breath fans lightly over your hair and you blearily register what happened overnight. His arm is slung over your middle, it’s quiet, and oh Christ, he is hard.

It’s fairly late. He’s hard. The antique clock mounted up on the wall tells you it’s around nine, which essentially gave you seven hours of sleep. He’s hard. You bask in the warmth of Mark for a while before your resolve solidifies and you gently push his arm off from its position on your hips. He only comes on stronger, wrapping fully around your waist, mumbling incoherence into your hair. He’s hard. You squeeze your eyes shut, summoning sleep to overcome you quickly, but it never does. Dread overcomes you as you feel your underwear grow damp.

“Mm,” Mark grunts, his hand around your waist loosening. You move away but his head suddenly lolls into the crook of your neck, his lips touching the side of it. You whimper. He’s a fucking asshole, even when he’s asleep. You pinch his arm, jolting him to half-awakeness, and you roll away, despite your body’s protests.

He blinks his eyes open. “Sorry, shit,” he says, voice deep and ridden with sleep. You’re fucked.

“It’s okay,” you splutter instead. “Just go back to sleep.” You faintly register that you sound just as exhausted as he does, and you bury your head back into the covers. Everything, plus the sound of his voice, has you dripping, and you breathe in deeply to poorly disguise a whimper. He chuckles, already half-asleep, from where he is, and it’s quiet for a few minutes before you realize he’s fallen asleep. Knowing Lia and Daniel will be busy for a while, you pull a spare pillow over your head and chant to yourself before falling back asleep, too.

When you awaken, the bed is cold and empty, and the shower’s running. You check the time to find only an hour has passed, but you’re much more awake now, getting up and knocking incessantly on the bathroom door. “Hurry,” you demand hoarsely, “I want to go skiing.” You hear a muffled okay and scurry over to your bag to find the pair of leggings you had packed for this. You also find your parka, and you pull off your shirt to clasp on a bra.

“Not that I don’t mind,” Mark says, eliciting a yelp from you as you tug a sweater on at record speed, “but generally, that kind of thing only goes unnoticed in nudist colonies. I could research some for you, if you’d—ow! I was joking, God!” You bonk him twice over the head with the Bible on the bedside table, your brows furrowed angrily. “You looked, asshat,” you say, collecting your things and locking yourself in the bathroom.

When it becomes increasingly evident that Lia and Daniel have no plans of exiting their room, you grumble and resort to skiing alone. But as you’re shuffling out, bundled up, you spot Mark leaning against the exit waiting for you. He looks up and tsks. “About fucking time,” he says, holding the door open for you. It’s not that cold out—maybe you’re just used to having snow and chilly weather, and so is Mark—so you barely shiver, walking around and looking for a good place to ski.

“Forget skiing,” Mark says after a few rounds. “Let’s go sledding. I have a thing.”

“A toboggan, you mean.”

“A funny word. Really, just say sled.”

You let up, anyway, the bright sky and cold ground sending serotonin right into you. Sure enough, Mark does have a nice, blue sled that he lets you on, and then the two of you are bolting down the hill at breakneck speed, laughing all the way. It’s quite a long ride, and you’re smiling and yelping so much the cloth you’ve used to cover your neck has ridden down, the cold air hitting your face harshly.

You land very ungracefully—the toboggan hits a small tree and sends you and Mark catapulting in the same direction, your hands clawing at the air for expense. You find Mark’s arm and cling onto it in the split second you’re in the air, landing on a clearing of thick snow. The arm you’ve clung onto pulls you closer, Mark grunting “be careful,” and when the whole fiasco’s over, you’re smiling like an idiot, and you’re right on top of Mark.

You’re not straddling him or anything, but you’ve just happened to land with your face a little above his. You can’t stop laughing, your face flushed and red with the cold air hitting your face. So you laugh. Why wouldn’t you laugh? It was a good day. A good ride down the hill. So you keep laughing until they’re reduced to giggles, Mark laughing right along as you pull down the covering of his mouth and tug his beanie off, ruffling your hands in his hair and dipping down to kiss him.

He kisses you right back, his lips cold but quickly growing warm with the friction. You smile into the kiss, your hands roaming all over his pink face. The kiss is giggly and light, your hands all over each other as the sunlight filters in through the thick trees overhead.

You pull away after a while. “I hate you,” you whisper. He presses a kiss to your jawline and lets it linger there. “You think I don’t?”

—

Stage 3: Bargaining, Depression|

You’ve begun to type the structure out when Lia tugs on your pajamas, her tone insistent and curious. “What’s up with you and Mark?” she presses, her cheek pressed to your stomach. You fervently hope she doesnt notice how your breathing quickens, and, keeping your voice even, you answer. “We’re…thinking about things.”

Which—you were thinking about things, to be fair. There were things to be thought and you had to think about them. It was a broad half-truth. It had been two weeks since the ski lodge thing, and you and Mark had decided it was probably best to shut the fuck up about everything you had done. (Everything meaning a few kisses here and there, and maybe a little more under the covers.) You’d hated yourself for hiding it from Lia, but you and Mark were actually feeling hesitant about moving forward with whatever you were. There was a lot of ambiguity and questions, and until you could clear it up yourself, you knew you weren’t ready to tell anybody else. You had talked about it already—clearly, the two of you were beyond jumping straight into a relationship after not liking each other that much and then becoming hesitant friends.

But it was, if you had to admit it to yourself, nice having that little secret.

“I’d want to tell Lia soon,” you tease, walking steadily beside Mark. The afternoon sun is warm on your heads, the snow falling intermittently. He turns with a small smile. “I’d want to tell Hyuck, too.” You scoff, burying your head in his chest. You probably look fucking disgusting. Around you, Washington Square Park is full of natives and tourists, and college students like you, all scurrying around and giving you that very much holiday feel.

He buys you a hot cocoa and hands it to you. “Are you heading home soon?”

You take a sip, your tongue hot. “If my ratty dorm counts as home, then yes.”

“Home is a feeling, not a place. Does your ratty dorm feel like home?”

“Kind of. Lia’s there. And so is the rat infestation in the ceiling.”

Mark nearly chokes on his cocoa. “You’re gross as fuck.”

You let out a loud laugh, your beanie nearly falling off with the bounciness of it. Mark reaches behind you to catch it, pressing a kiss to your lips in the process, soft and light and God, you like it. A lot. “Clumsy,” he remarks, pulling it back on and dragging a generous amount of your hair in front of your eyes as he does it. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon, and thank God we’re nearly done with this paper.”

“It was my genius idea to combine bargaining and depression,” you quip. “That’s my gift to you. Merry Christmas, Mark Lee.” He laughs at that. His laugh, you’ve noticed, is goddamn loud, and it’s a literal cackle, but he always looks so happy when he laughs. And buoyant. “You look stupid,” you say, but the smile on your face is undeniable. He glares playfully at you, taking your hand and walking you both in the direction of your building.

“New York in the snow,” he hums. “Always a great place.”

“It’s full of tourists,” you counter. Always disagreeing.

He chuckles and then, like clockwork—like how you’ve done it for the past six dates—you separate when you’re just shy of a meter away from the lobby entrance. Your fingers curl in search of his, and you jog up the steps, eager to get into the warmth of the building. The lobby’s pretty empty, save for a couple of students. Mark’s ahead of you, already pressing the elevator button and waiting impatiently. 

“We’re alone,” he sing-songs, his eyebrows wiggling. The doors open right as you take Mark’s hand, and you look up to meet Daniel’s wide eyes. Then you look to the right to meet Lia’s.

Despite your inner turmoil, you remain nonchalant, pinching Mark’s wrist instead of holding it like you’d planned. “That’s why our professor fucking hates you,” you say, narrowing your eyes. Your heart is beating a mile a minute, but you muster a neutral expression, shoving your hands back into your pockets. Lia knows you, though, and her furrowed eyebrows and parted lips say everything—but you just shrug, playing off what they could have caught you doing. “Hey,” you say, walking into the elevator with Mark. It all blows over.

AKA: Daniel has to drag a curious Lia away from you, with a promise that you would converse later. You and Mark are alone again, in the elevator, your hands barely touching, laughs loud. It’s all blurry after that. You’re high on a laugh and the thought of a kiss—you drag him over to your room, hands in his hair, breathless, loose kisses. You’re both so exhausted, though, that all you manage to extend your energy to is taking your tops off and making out lazily to the songs you’d recommended to each other.

“Mm,” he says when one of your songs starts playing. “It’s a nice song.” You nod with a smile. “I know it is, it’s one of my recommendations. It’s called Softly.” He plays with the strap of your bra. “I’ll give it more of a listen, then. Also, a red bra to school? Whatever will the professors think,” he jokes lightly, pressing insistent, but soft kisses on your shoulder. You laugh, pinching the inner part of his arm and eliciting a swear from him. “I was joking! I know you wore this for me, stupid.” The wind whistles outside, barely audible from the half-open window across the room, overlapping with the music.

This all feels too real, now.

You pout lazily against his bare chest. “Get off before Lia gets in,” you mumble, your heart beginning to race. He does, for what it’s worth, rolling off your bed with a loud thump and tugging his shirt and sweater back on. You watch him (fondly) annoyedly, your hair draping over you as you get up to properly shove him out. “Out, out,” you chant, laughing, and he giggles, turning abruptly to poke at your waist.

“Shut up,” you groan, a smile on your face. There’s a beat, then he pulls you close and kisses you, running outside right after with a literal guffaw. You watch him, wrapping your fleece blanket around your frame as he runs to the elevator, sweater backwards and hair messy.

—

Doubts are normal. This you’re assured of, but your head pounds with the sheer amount of things you’re cramming into it. You squint impossibly harder, trying to get the nail polish into the crook of Lia’s nail. You’ve probably overdone it, judging by the way she jabs her knuckle in between your eyebrows, her face contorted in worry. “Are you…okay?”

You narrow your eyes, the inner debate of telling her raging on and on. The nail polish drips onto her fingernail, rolling onto her pant leg, and she yelps, but her eyes are still on you. “You can tell me anything,” she says, softer this time. You know she’s serious—you know you can. You always have. You told her about every fling, one night stand, pregnancy scare, bad grade, hot professor, and spoiled deli food you’d encountered since you ever became friends. She knew you. And you were so sure she knew what you were about to say.

Except you didn’t know what you wanted to say. Your feelings were a mess, and you wanted one thing as much as you wanted the other. You couldn’t place what you wanted, and if you had to narrow it down, you’d realize that you were scared of what you wanted. You were never really one for commitment, or a relationship, or really anything, for that matter. And the fact that you were so hung up on thinking about what you and Mark would become—Mark? It all seemed so dystopian, almost. Like you’d never expected it. Your friendship was a childhood bubble that popped in the span of your first high school semester, and that was that. But just two days ago you were being kissed all over by the same guy you’d had a cutthroat student council president competition with.

It seemed so absurd? Crazy? Those adjectives were a little over the top. Deep down, if you dug deep enough into the parts you didn’t even tell yourself, you knew what you were. And if anybody else were to know, it would be Lia.

“I’m scared,” you choke out, your voice shaky. “I’m scared and sad, and happy and angry, and I want this but I don’t.” You cover the nail polish, shaking your head. “This is all so new to me. I hate how much I feel, especially because it feels so wrong. You know me—relationships are just not cut out for me. They’re scary and new. And people in relationships turn all gooey. I’m scared that this won’t last, but I’m scared that it will, and I’ll be doomed to an eternity of bland, padlocked relationships. It’s weird. I could be feeling this way for anyone, but it had to be Mark? If only I didn’t hate him, then maybe we could’ve gone off on a better foot. If only this whole thing never fucking happened, right?”

“It’s okay,” Lia cuts in. “Being scared is okay. It’s part of the whole process. And nobody said you had to get along like conjoined twins in a relationship. They just go when they go and end when they end. Not every relationship starts as a high school sweetheart thing and ends with three kids and a picket fence. And I’m so sure Mark would be so understanding if you didn’t like him or if you chose not to continue.”

“You knew?”

She laughs. “Of course I knew. I know a post-sex glow when I see one, and I was blinded that morning at the ski lodge.” You groan, pinching her indignantly, hiding your face in your hands as she laughs out of view. “Okay. Take some time and think about it, but for now, I want to get my nails done, so.” 

—

It’ll be a week before you come up with what you want, and the whole time you generally avoid talking about solemn topics with him in person. 

It’ll be another few days before you finally talk to him personally—with your paper nearly finished, you suggest a meeting at the library. It’s just two days before Christmas Eve, and you know Mark’s going to be driving to Canada, so you want to snatch him away for your own personal time for just a second. The snow has all but thickened as you meet outside the building, the silence deafening.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. You know he’s probably picked up on your erratic, quieter behavior in the past several days, but you gulp and lead him inside anyways, to your favorite section. “It’s almost Christmas Eve,” he says, watching you stall, surrounded by Philosophy books from just about every century. “I know,” you say, hoping you don’t sound too nervous.

“You sound nervous,” he says.

“Do I?” you ask shakily, your voice taking on an unnaturally high pitch. “I mean, er. I guess I sort of am. I guess I’ve been thinking about everything lately—about you and me and everything that just happened so suddenly. Because—because it did happen so suddenly. I just…needed time? Yeah, time. To think about everything. Because it all happened so quickly, I…” you stutter. “I’m scared of these things. I’m not used to them. Relationships? Things that last longer than a couple weeks? I don’t like these. 

I have something bigger I want to focus on and anybody who gets in the way just isn’t worth it. And it’s so weird how it was you out of all people I started thinking about it with. Usually I just have the rare fling and then they’re gone, and I’m not even mad. But you’re different. And I like it. 

But I just needed time to find out if I really liked it. If I really wanted to try. I know it’s only been a few weeks, and I probably sound really fucking stupid, but you get me—you get me, right? And that’s how I realized—if it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. I don’t know why I overthought it. I mean, it’s a good thing and a bad thing that I did. Like, on one hand, I got to really think about how this would play out, and on the other, I’d just end up spiraling. And it’s just weird. I hope you don’t know I hated you. Hate you? Hated you. I was just—it was all so juvenile. Everything just stemmed from that one awfully dumb high school rivalry. But other than that, you were always a cool…see what I mean? I’m kind of rambling—even if I thought I had planned this out. And. Yeah. I dunno. I fucking…I hate you, stop laughing.”

Mark smiles down at you—you’re busy pretending to read a Sartre book to look unfazed, but your flickering gaze says it all. 

“Okay, stupid,” he says, bordering onto a laugh. “If that’s your way of saying you’re willing to give this a try, then I graciously accept. Should I be saying something equally long? I—is that how this works?”

You roll your eyes and kiss him instead, pulling him close, Sartre’s postulates dropping to the floor alongside your tiptoes.

—

Stage 4: Acceptance|

“Acceptance is just that. Just accepting that you love that person after weeks or months of all the other stages. With her, it was. Like. It’s the whole sitting down after silence, having some time for the revelation to set in before you realize you love them. Or like them? Well, love them, I guess. But I don’t know why you would be asking me this.”

You bury your head further into Mark’s shoulder, your eyes strained from how long they’d been trained onto your screen. You smile up at Daniel, thanking him for the input and beginning to type it in, watching Lia doze off on his shoulder. “We’re asking because we’re not quite there yet,” Mark hums, “it’s just February. It’s barely been two months.” You nod, watching Mark type where you left off on the document. Daniel snorts from across you. “You’re just about, I guess.” Mark chuckles, shrugging so your head bounces off his shoulder unceremoniously.

“Like I’d ever fall in love with that shitstorm,” he says pointedly.

“Oh, and I’d fall in love with this dickwad?”

“You’re perfect for each other. Bullying, but we all know Mark brought back gifts from Canada and that you stitched an initial onto his sweater.”

“To practice my embroidery. Also, I stitched Mark’s initial. M. Asshole.”

“Okay,” whistles Daniel, his hand unconsciously coming up to make sure Lia doesn’t fall off his shoulder. “But hey, you’re just about to submit this paper and I’m fondly remembering all the times you despised each other. And when you”—he points at you, devilish grin on his face—“started gushing to Lia about how he”—he then turns to Mark—“kissed you at Johnny’s party.”

“God, it’s not the time for that yet, we’re still a fresh couple,” you groan, burying your head in your hands. “You have so much dirt on me, Choi.” Mark just laughs, though, loudly, bringing the other cafe-goers’ attention to yours. He bites your shoulder to stifle it, eliciting a laugh from you. “I agree, there should be a certain time requirement for pre-relationship embarrassing stories,” Mark says, closing his laptop. Lia gets up at that point, already half-awake from the ruckus (AKA Mark’s laugh), pulling on Daniel’s sleeve. “Alright, and that’s my cue to get this girl some more coffee and then go.”

“Mm, I’ll come with,” you say, “I need a refresher before we leave soon, anyway.”

You walk in between them, your fingers laced in Lia’s as she squeezes them sleepily. They order first and then they’re off with a smile and a polite goodbye, leaving you to order your drink. You gaze up at the menu, and then down at—

“Long time no see,” Chan says with a knowing beam. “How is your not boyfriend boyfriend?”

“Well, he’s my boyfriend now.”

“See, I always know. What do you want?”

“An iced ca—how did you know?” You ask, tempted.

“It’s just…the energy? It was a hit or miss, but I kinda got that feeling that something was going to happen.”

“Hmm,” you hum. “An iced caramel then.”

“And a black coffee for her best friend!” Hollers a new voice that you could never miss, turning slowly towards the entrance to meet Donghyuck’s crazy eyes. He’s in a suit, which isn’t unusual given the sheer amount of presentations he’s had to do since the new year started. You roll your eyes but put in the extra cash anyway, much to Chan’s amusement. Hyuck nears you with a sly grin. “I hear you’ll be submitting your paper soon. I just want my name in there so I’m in your professor’s good graces.”

“She’s not even going to be your professor, Hyuck,” you say, taking your drink and smiling at Chan. You and Donghyuck both walk back to where Mark’s sitting, you beside him and Hyuck across the both of you. “Yes, but it pays to be in somebody’s good graces, I swear. See what happened? I got you two together. I orchestrated your entire love st—”

“Okay, now you’re just lying, Hyuck,” Mark says with a laugh, finishing up the first few paragraphs and closing his laptop. “We’re not even in love.” But his friend lets out a teasing smile, his eyes narrowed, and he gets up with a loud farewell and alibi about “being needed by my better friends.” You assume he’s talking about Jeno.

—

You walk to Mark’s room alongside him, thanks to the promise of his roommate, Jaemin, sleeping at a friend’s. Your fingers are intertwined loosely. The sun’s setting and Mark’s room is sheathed in beautiful shades of orange and pink, a vast array of dusk settling over the space. It happens quietly, but full of laughs, which is how it happens when you’re both tired and/or shitfaced. You do this a lot—a routine of sharing new songs or books you’d picked up over the week and then making out while they play in the background or while one of you read. It’s awfully, horribly, terribly fucking intimate. 

“Your bra sucks,” he jokes.

You love it.

“Get better abs and we can talk about it,” you counter, poking his toned stomach. He really, fully guffaws at that, pulling you onto his lap and then tugging his guitar out from where it stands at the corner. You flop back onto his bed, watching him play—and then registering the familiar opening of the Jonas Brothers song you used to request nearly everyday. “Lovebug,” you muse with a smile, singing along to his voice, carried away. You’re sleepy and light, and you know deep down—in that space of yourself where you’re all but honest—that you were going to fall in love with him someday.

Later, when all you’re doing is hugging him as he reads your latest Philosophy requirement to you, he pauses.

“Is this the 21st century idea of love?” He asks idly, unclasping your bra and connecting the moles on your shoulder. You hum. 

“It’s the Gen Z idea,” you say, connecting the ones on his bare back. “And this isn’t love.”

“Corny.” he smiles against your collarbones. You kiss his neck. It’s all very gradual.

—

hope you liked it :) drop an ask! I absolutely love all types of feedback 

[andreafmn]

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 3

Word Count: 3,195

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 3/?

Warnings:  brief mention of attempted suicide

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 3

"Time!" Mr. Harris looked up from his watch. "If you catalyzed the reaction correctly, you should now be looking at a crystal."

I looked down at my beaker and saw a horrible concoction of half crystal and half goo. Thanks to Stiles, my last partner of this weird-ass rotation the chemistry teacher had us partake in. Yet even though I didn't get with Stiles that well I was relieved that he was my partner. Isaac had been completely insufferable these last few days and I couldn't handle that.

"Now this part of the experiment I'm sure you'll all enjoy. You can eat it." I was bummed that I couldn't eat mine and I guess Lydia noticed.

"Hey, (Y/N), we can share mine. Don't frown." I smiled at her and she returned it.

After Lydia gave me half her rock crystal, Scott just stood up and screamed our names to stop, and everyone else just stared at us. We both turned and gave the boy a weird stare before diverging our attention back to the candy. After clinking our candies against the other, we savored the sweet treat.

Allison's POV

"Derek is outside waiting for (Y/N) and Lydia," Scott said.

"Waiting to kill them?"

"If he thinks one of them is the Kanima, then yes. Especially after what happened at the pool."

"It's not Lydia."

"Stiles, she didn't pass the test, man. Nothing happened."

"No, it can't be her."

"Well, it's not (Y/N) either."

"Well, it could be her."

"What is that supposed to mean?!" What the hell was his problem?

"Well, we have no idea who she is, and she hasn't really proven to be a good person. And the attacks did start after she first arrived at Beacon Hills."

"You don't know her, I do. Believe me, it's not her. I've known her my whole life. I think I would have noticed her turning into a killing lizard and I don't think I would be here to tell you. So, we can cross her out." We both sighed. "But it doesn't matter because Derek thinks it's one of them. So, either we can convince him that he's wrong or we've got to figure out a way to protect them."

"Well, I don't think he's gonna do anything here. Not at school." Scott stepped in.

"What about after school?" I asked and he sighed. "What if we can prove that Derek's wrong?"

"By three o'clock?"

"There can be something in the bestiary."

"Oh, you mean the 900-page book written in Archaic Latin that none of us can read? Good luck with that." Seriously Stiles, not helping. At least I was trying.

"Actually, I think there might be someone who can translate," I said thinking about our guidance counselor.

"Uh, I can talk to Derek maybe convince him to give us a chance to prove it's not either of them or... But if anything happens you guys let me handle it, okay?"

"What does that mean?"

"You can't heal like I do." I stared at him. I wasn't a defenseless baby. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"I can protect myself." I took the crossbow out of my bag. He said nothing. "What? Did something else happen?"

"I just don't want you getting hurt. Seriously, if anything goes wrong you call me, okay?! I don't care if your dad finds out. Call or text, scream or yell; whatever, I'll find you as fast as I can." He stared straight into my eyes.

"We have until three."

He turned to leave until my crossbow went off. "Ooh." Scott quickly turned around and caught the arrow.

"Aah. Sorry." Stiles handed me the crossbow. "Sorry. Sensed a trigger on that."

Scott's POV

Currently, Stiles was on Lydia's and (Y/N)'s trail, and I was on the field with Boyd trying to find Derek.

"I wanna talk to Derek."

"Talk to me."

"I don't wanna fight."

"Good. Cause I'm twice the size of you" I looked up to find it true.

"True. Really, really true." He smirked. "But you wanna know what I think? I'm twice as fast." I smirked back and tackled him to the ground. Once we stood up, Derek appeared by our side.

"She failed the test." His face held his iconic scowl, and his arms were crossed.

"Yeah, but that doesn't prove anything. Lydia's different."

"I know. At night she turns into a homicidal walking snake."

"I'm not gonna let you kill her."

"Who said I was gonna do it?" I looked back to the school and realized Erica and Isaac were still back in the building. I tried to run towards it, but Boyd threw me down. "I don't know why you think you have to protect everyone now, Scott. But even so, Lydia has killed people and she's gonna do it again. And next time it's gonna be one of us."

"What if you're wrong? For all we know it could also be (Y/N). She didn't pass either, and how is it a coincidence that the attacks started after she arrived?" For a second I could have sworn there was a sign of desperation and worry in his face. But as quick as I blinked the look was gone.

"Lydia was bitten by an alpha. It's her."

"You saw that thing up close. You know it's not like us."

"But it is! We're all shapeshifters. You don't know what you're dealing with. It happens rarely and it happens for a reason."

"What reason?"

"Sometimes the shape you take reflects the person that you are." He gave me his hand and helped me up. "Even Stiles calls her cold-blooded."

"Well, what if she's immune? What if she has something else inside of her that makes her immune to the bite which is why she didn't get paralyzed."

"No one's immune. We've never seen it or heard of it. It's n... It's never happened." He argued.

"What about Jackson?" He looked away. "That's why you tested him, isn't it? Because you gave him what he wanted, didn't you?"

"Scott..."

"You said the bite either kills you or turns you. You were probably hoping that he would die. But nothing happened, right? You have no idea why do you?"

"No." Derek's jaw clenched and I knew I struck a never, so I pressured on buying more time.

"I have a theory. That she's immune and that somehow, she passed it on to Jackson. You know I'm right."

"No!

"You can NOT do this!"

"Look, I can't let her live! You should've known that."

"I was hoping I could convince you but then, I wasn't counting on it." He looked at me frazzled as to what I meant, I just smirked.

(Y/N)'s POV

Being stuck with Stiles and Lydia in the library is torture, an experiment I did not want to know the result of. Actually, just Stiles. Ever since Chemistry he had been on our trail like a lost puppy. Lydia and I had a project to work with, and he was just in the way. He was acting so weird and fidgety, more than usual.

"Hey, Allison. What are you doing here?" Lydia said looking behind her.

"Oh nothing, just wondering if you wanted to get together for a study group."

"Sure, that would actually maybe let the tension leave this group," I said and as we were leaving, Jackson joined.

"Study group? I'm coming with."

"Great." We left through the back door of the library, lord knows why, and we were walking at top speed.

"If we're doing a study group why don't we just stay in the library?" Lydia said. I was asking myself the same thing but since everyone else had stood up, I just followed.

"Because we're meeting up with somebody else."

"Why don't they just meet us at the library?" I asked.

"Oh, that would have been a great idea! Too late."

"Okay, hold on..." Lydia started saying but Jackson stopped her by grabbing her arm.

"Lydia, shut up and walk." Jerk.

We all got inside of Stile's jeep since he thought it would be faster that way because we were already late. It was an awkward ride to what I learned was Scott's house. No one said much except for the casual groan or scoff coming from Lydia.

"If we're meeting at Scott's house, where's Scott?" Lydia asked.

"Meeting us here. I think. I hope." Stiles said as he led us up to the front steps and into Scott's house.

Once inside he closed every single lock there was on the door. My reaction was involuntary as I stared at the slim boy in front of me as if he was another worldly creature.

"Uh, there's been a few break-ins in the neighborhood." He then put a chair on the doorknob and now Lydia joined in the stare. "And a murder. Yeah, it was bad."

"Lydia, follow me. I need to talk to you for a minute." Jackson spoke up.

"Seriously, what is going on with everyone?" Lydia said exasperated.

"Actually, I've been thinking the same thing. What the hell is going on?" I asked once Jackon and Lydia were out of sight.

"Nothing. Like we said it's just a study group." Stiles answered and I crossed my arms against my chest. Groveling for an answer seemed completely futile in this situation.

Allison's POV

"You know what, (Y/N). Why don't you go into the kitchen and help yourself to anything or go upstairs and lay down? I think Scott will take a while."

"O-kay?" She headed upstairs with an audible sigh and I motioned to Stiles to give me his phone to dial Scott.

"Hey, it's me. You need to get here. Quick." I looked outside and saw Derek and his pack waiting. I looked at the phone after Scott hung up and started dialing my dad's number.

"What are you doing?"

"I think... I think I have to call my dad."

"But if he finds you here, you and Scott..."

"I know." I stared at him. "What are we supposed to do? They're not here to scare us, okay, they're here to kill Lydia... Or, or even (Y/N)." We stood in silence and I debated on whether if it would be a good idea to call my father. If I did my relationship with Scott would be completely and truly over and if I didn't there could be a chance I would be down a friend or even a cousin.

"I've got an idea." I looked at a nervous Stiles. "Shoot one of them."

"Are you serious?"

"We told Scott we could protect ourselves. So, let's do it, at least give it a shot, right?" I debated for a moment.

"Okay." I don't think I sounded too confident.

"Look, they don't think we're gonna fight, so one of them gets hit, I guarantee they'll take off. So just shoot one of them." His reasoning made sense. I looked outside.

"Which one?"

"Um, Derek, preferably in the head."

"Stiles, if Scott can catch an arrow, Derek definitely can."

"Okay, ah, just shoot one of the other three."

"You mean two?"

"I mean three." Quickly he moved the curtains aside and looked outside to check on the pack. "Where's Isaac?" Without being able to think I was attacked and thrown to the ground and so was Stiles. I don't know how but Isaac found a way in.

(Y/N)'s POV

I was laying down on the bed of what I hoped was a guest room, scrolling through my phone when I heard a crash downstairs. I guess Lydia heard it too because when I looked outside the hallway, there she was. We moved slowly and carefully. After, I started to hear snarling and crashing.

"What's happening?" Lydia cried and I half hugged her as reassurance.

"Get back. Someone's trying to break in, okay? Go." Allison appeared from around the corner.

"I can help," I said.

"Stay." We didn't move. "Guys, go!" We both ran back to the room she was with Jackson and closed the door. Yet, Jackson was nowhere in sight.

"Jackson?!" Lydia screamed and we made our way to the bathroom locking the door.

"Who are you calling?" I asked Lydia as she took out her phone.

"Hi, I-I need the police. Th-there's someone trying to break in." She turned off the light and I heard the door outside slam.

"Stiles! It's here!" Allison screamed. What the hell was IT? Then the door crashed down. Lydia started squirming so I engulfed her in a hug and tried my best to calm her nerves.

"We're gonna be alright." But honestly, I was just as scared. Once silence was the only thing surrounding us, I checked the room. "Okay, I think it's gone. We'll go out slowly."

She nodded and followed me out of the bathroom and later out of the room. We made our way calmly down the hallway and the stairs. That's when I heard the worst screech ever and it was not human. We both ran outside to see what had made such an awful sound and were met by Derek, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Scott, Stiles, and Allison. What the hell were they all doing here, and why were Erica and Isaac limp on the floor?

"Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

"It's Jackson," Scott said. What could that possibly mean?

After everyone had calmed down, Stiles took us back to the school to look for our abandoned cars. As I made my way to my bike, Allison stopped me. Claiming that she was too worried about my safety. Not having the energy to fight, I obliged and got into her car alongside Lydia, who was still a bit shaken from the events.

"I need you to promise that you both won't say anything about what just happened." Allison staged the statement as a request but it was clearly a command.

"I promise not to say anything about what just happened if you could tell me what the HELL just happened," Lydia said, exasperated.

"I'm with Lydia on that one."

"It's kinda complicated." Allison sighed.

"How about you start with why Derek was there?" I spoke. "And Isaac and all of those kids from school?"

"Or where Jackson went or what is wrong with Erica?" She looked down. "Need to come up with a possible lie?"

"Part of the reason I am asking is because Scott and I aren't supposed to be seeing each other, okay?" Seriously? That's your excuse "So it's better if you just keep what you know to yourselves."

"Fine. I'll keep what I know about you and your boyfriend, which is nothing, to myself." Lydia started to get out, but Allison held her back.

"Hey, he's not just my boyfriend, you get that right?"

"Let me go." The strawberry blonde spat.

"Just for one second, please try and remember. "

"Remember what?!" Lydia turned.

"Remember what it feels like. All those times in school when you see him standing in the hall and you cannot breathe until you're with him or those times in class when you can't stop looking at the clock because you know that he is standing right out there, waiting for you. Don't you remember what that's like?"

"No."

"What do you mean no? You've had boyfriends."

"Not like that." She closed the door and left. Allison stared at her until she had reached the door to her house before starting the car back up.

"I know you're lying. This has nothing to do with your relationship with Scott. Maybe like five percent but when you look at the whole picture it's not. So, why don't you actually tell me the truth or I swear I will get out of this car."

"We're moving."

"Doesn't mean I won't jump out."

"What do you want me to say?!"

"The truth. Just tell me why the hell everyone has been acting so weird?"

"You're one to talk." She scoffed.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You! Ever since you've arrived you have pushed everyone away, even though all they have been is nice to you. You're alienating yourself for no reason."

"No reason?! How about the fact that I don't want to grow attached to anyone because I know that once the year ends, I'm gone? It has been like that for almost ten fucking years. Allison, you have only had to move about three times in your life, maybe four. I have been moving every single year since I was eight years old. Don't you think that it doesn't hurt to leave behind people you have grown to love and won't see again, possibly forever?"

"I didn't think..." she sighed.

"Exactly, you didn't think because you don't understand. The last time I grew close to someone, I had to say goodbye and you know what happened?" She shook her head no. "She was bullied into attempting suicide. I did that."

"Are you talking about Josie?" I nodded, roughly wiping away the tears that had spilled. "That wasn't your fault. It was tragic but there was nothing you could have done. You didn't do it."

"I did. She was alone because I left, and I couldn't protect her. She won't even answer my messages. Now, I don't associate myself with people so I don't have to care about what happens to them. That way it doesn't hurt once I leave."

"I'm so sorry, (Y/N), I didn't know you felt that way. But don't push me away. I will always be a constant in your life. I'm your cousin, I will always be with you." She hugged me and wiped away any other tears left. "I love you but get out."

"Dude, you just ruined the moment."

"No, I mean we're at your house and I have to get home. I love you." She smiled and I got out of the car. Before I could say anything else, she sped off. She knew there was a conversation still lingering and she was trying to avoid it. I just hoped I didn't have to explain myself to anyone else.

I entered the empty house, making sure all the doors were locked, and made my way up the stairs. Opening my bedroom door, Brody jumped off my bed and onto me, slathering my face with kisses.

"Hey, buddy. I missed you too," I laughed. Being near him instantly calmed me and helped me feel more at ease after the night I had.

I changed into my pajamas, too tired to shower, and cuddled with Brody on my bed. Talking about my past always made me tense. I tried my best to stray away from the topic and reveal as little as possible as I could, but it always found a way to be uncovered. As hard as I tried it was the dark cloud that would always follow me around. All I could do was avoid the whole thing as much as I could and hope they didn't bring it up again.

With Brody's warmth next to me, I quickly nodded off to sleep and melted the stress of the day.

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Tag List: @hellowinterlane @lokisgoddesofpower

[perriwinklesblog]

I know some people prefer consistent content but I like to take it as it comes and sometimes life happens and other projects need to take priority. 

So right now, I consider this to be a mid season break. Techno going into the prison was like the midseason finale for the Dream Prison Arc and Wilbur and Ranboo’s stuff was like their midseason finale and the Red Banquet where the egg was contained, was a midseason finale and alllllllll the mini episodes we’ve had since there are like specials etc. 

You know, like how in Dr Who you can go a few years without a solid season but get a special at Christmas and New Year? You know like that. 

So like all other programs, stories, videos I watch, I am coming up with ways in which the next bit could go. Some are a bit out there and definitely not happening, others I could see happening. 

This is long and pointless and full or errors both grammatically and spelling wise but I had fun thinking of what could happen next. Read if you want.

Dream escapes prison with Technoblades help. A server wide man hunt comes for Dream but unlike his videos he had stolen the spare armour in the prison and so is pretty OP making it easier for him to put distance between his enemies and himself. 

Technoblade returns to the artic and him, Phil and Will come to an in pass, a slight disagreement. Philza whilst having sided with Dream before, knows he’s not a good guy. Only used him to help destroy lmanburg for his own morals. It was not because he agreed with Dream. In his eyes, he was using Dream for his own goals. Plus, now he’s seen the aftermath of Dream’s terror on the citizens he realises the man perhaps shouldn’t be set to run entirely free. This slightly goes against Techno’s beliefs but the main issue of tension between them is Technoblade willingly placing himself in danger when he didn’t need too and helping release the man who tortured Tommy and clearly has something going on with Ranboo thats bad. 

Wilbur is angry because Techno won’t say where Dream has gone due to an agreement between the two and Technoblade is a man of his word. Wilbur wishes to thank and meet the man who saved him. This also worries Philza because he’s worried he’ll revert back to the man he saw the day he blew up L’Manburg. Over all tension between the three

Niki and Wilbur finally meet and it is as heartbreaking as it is beautifully tragic. Wilbur apologises but misses the mark, misses what hurt her which hurts her more. There’s an explosion with their argument that leaves a stunned silence. Niki asks Wilbur to leave. He does so. 

This leads to a Wilbur and Ranboo conversation where Ranboo tries to reason with Wilbur about Niki’s side. Wilbur brushes it off because much like the blue counterpart we all miss, he’s not a fan of the negative emotion. He tries to focus on the business etc and let’s slip that Dream has escaped somehow. Ranboo leaves. Wilbur is confused but distracted by a confrontation with Quackity.

Ranboo then starts his stream and he’s in the fucking panic room and he’s panicking because there are signs so many signs and they don’t make sense. Theres lesson rules, asking about the missing journal and it’s like every issue he’s ever faced is staring right back at him because Ranboo has never really resolved any issue, just pushed and moved on. He’s tried but that usually failed and for a while he’s ignored all the issues and here they are in front of him, all at one. A big volcanic eruption of anxiety and stress, and it ain’t sitting with him. 

Dream appears. But is it really him? We never know because after a conflict and a back and fourth about everyone in Ranboo’s life eventually landing on a threat about Michael and Tubbo, he blacks out and the stream ends. 

Quackity is livid with everything thats happening, the careful empire he’s building is falling apart and he’s shifting the blame around from person to person. He manipulates everyone around them into believing this is somehow their own fault and that they must make it up to him because he has been nothing but kind and loving to them. He gave them a place, a roof on their head when they had nothing. He misses out the parts where he insulted and or destroyed their homes, but it works and his employee “family” become the main bounty hunters for Dream, with Bad and Ant tagging along since they’re guards. 

Now the streams relating to the manhunt displays everyones wants. They’re all doing this wanting something, and whilst it’s to gain Quackity’s favour back they’re all doing that for different reasons. Their motivations are somewhat different even if on the surface they are the same and so on the man hunts, because there will be many, this is slowly picked apart and through that the manipulation of Quackity is revealed and then we see a parrallel between Quackity and previous people in power where they start to get desperate to keep control over the thing they’ve created. Because that’s been one of (not the only) issues with every leader on the server, the control and their feeling of lack of, even if thats not truly the case. But you get these moments between all the characters where they’re trying to outwit one another, trying to figure it out without blatantly saying it. Maybe Foolish does. He’s a bit of a himbo. 

Ponk always said he’d leave the door open for Sam and I truly think something happens, whether it be a look in the mirror with one of his guards going too far with someone or a conversation with Quackity where Quackity holds the mirror up to Sam maliciously, that causes him to hit the rock bottom and just break and I want that breakdown in front of Ponk. And I want Ponk not necessarily to give him the second chance off the bat but give him that peace offering, give him that hand to pull him up. I want him to take Sam to Niki and explain to Niki we’ve done bad things in the past, this is a safe haven and I believe Sam needs help and a place he can truly feel safe and for a moment Sam does and this begins his raid to redemption in gaining back the trust of the people in his lives. He becomes Tubbo 2.0 spying on Quackity like Tubbo did for Wilbur, but maybe less... bad.

But what of the Fiances? Wellllll,. With Dream escaping him and George meet in secret. George confesses he doesn’t believe it’s real and for a long time has been struggling with reality. He misses the early days, misses when they’d just have fun. Dream says he was having fun and George says I wasn’t. Dream shows true regret for George but says its too late now, can’t change the past. George agrees. Dream asks him what he’s going to do and he simply replies with “Sleep” Ending stream. 

Sapanps stream is a lot more WE ARE GOING ON A DREAM HUNT WE’RE GOING TO CATCH A BIG ONE, I’M NOT SCARED. vibes. He’s gearing up, he’s suiting up and he’s saluting pets on the way. He made a promise and with everything else going on in his life, he’s ready to throw himself into a distraction. He tries to convince George to help him but he waves him off saying, what’s the point? and mumbles something about divine powers and dreams which Sapnap just shakes off. He tries to find Karl in Kinoko but instead comes across Quackity. They have a blow up about how They abandoned each other, both did wrong but neither see the other side of things and eventually he tells him to leave. Quackity says okay, and the place blows up. Foolish cries in the corner. All that heard work but the boss said so. Sapnap ends the whole thing saying at least he’s there for Karl and Quackity pauses and is like why? And Sapnap is all like you care. Just go, you’ve done enough damage, I can’t have you damaging him too. And after a little more but but but between the two, Quackity goes. Sapnap leaves the place to burn, going to find Dream and hopefully Karl on the way. 

Karls in space. That’s where his latest travels have taken him and where the other side decided was his time to visit. Here I see a Wizard in Oz scenario where solutions to some issues will be revealed for Karl in relation to the other side. When it comes to his Dream SMP stuff, he starts confusing names and people more and Sapnap is worried about him, considering keeping him in a safe place. The only place that survived was the library with Karls books. Karl says he’ll stay there. Thats where the answers are anyway. Sapnap is unsure and gets bad vibes but is distracted by a lead on Dream and agrees, he tells him he’ll be back soon. 

They don’t see each other for a long ass time 

I’m not sure on the egg stuff but I do feel Niki and Puffy should have a conversation about all the shit thats happened and Puffy trying to help Niki and vice versa. I feel like Puffy should reach out to Foolish and try and comprehend what the fuck is he doing with Quackity. They have a little argument but it comes to a point where Puffy realises she cannot shield Foolish from harm and that her son ,just make his own decisions. All she can do is guide him where she can and hope that when it comes down to it he will make the right choice. She hopes she didn’t fail this dependant like she did with Dream her duckling. Though only she sees it as failure. 

Jack and Niki finally talk. She goes searching for some things and comes to his new place, he tells her to fuck off and that he doesn’t need anyone. They all abandon him. Niki pretty much does the verbal equivalent of slap some sense into him as she and him discuss how he is not the centre of everything, how he is not the sun. She was hurting, and he didn’t bother, no instead they just fed off each others anger and once he couldn’t feed of her or anyone else he isolated himself. She tries to convince him there are better things in life, there are better ways to place your energy etc. A lot of healing talk with Jack being stubborn. Eventually Jack finds himself at the door of Quackity after sticking to stubbornness, not quite ready to heal and he becomes the next member of Las Nevadas. A big blow to Wilbur too. 

They finally destroy the egg with magic. I dunno how but either destroy or hatch. Either or would be great. Red comes out the thing and I want a gay ass villain please. Bring it Red. Let’s go. Invite him to the server, bring the fire, bring the plant power Red. He can be the villain that unites everyone in a begrudging way. Like they all hate each other but fine i guess we’ll team to stop Red and Ant. 

Skeppy’s dead. 

Tubbo and Ranboo have a fight but Ranboo says “Weren’t we enough?” and it’s in relation to him and Michael (this happens before panic room). Thats when Tubbo realises where the wires got crossed and he immediately rectifies it but explaining he’s happy with the two of them but he wanted a job, something to work towards. Family wise he’s got it all, he’s content with it all but he wanted a project and one that didn’t incite violence. Fun rivalry sure, but he’s done with violence, he’s doesn’t want to add to the nightmares he already has. He wants competition but not one that will put all he loves in danger. So they talk it out and Ranboo feels more confident and Tubbo asks him to tell him if he ever takes anything too far because he can get a little carried away sometimes. Ranboo agrees and then they have a cute playdate with Michael. Then Ranboo does the thing with Wilbur and ends up in panic room.

Tommy and Tubbo discuss everything and lay it all out on the table because Tommy doesn’t want to be on the other side again with Tubbo. Tubbo doesn’t understand why everyone is making such a big deal about his burger business and Tommy tries to explain the issues with Quackity and the level of intensity he’s seen with Wilbur but Tubbo just laughs it off. They eventually talk about Ranboo and Tommy relents saying he likes Ranboo although he does sometimes get jealous of how Tubbo seems to have it all. Tubbo tells Tommy of his nightmares and so does Tommy to Tubbo. They come to an understanding with each other and understand that no matter how long they go apart, there is always a space shaped to fit them perfectly in their lives for them. Tubbo and Tommy then go play some pranks. 

Wilbur is unhappy with the pranks and gives a lecture and they get into a fight. This leads to Wilbur talking man to man to Quackity. Theres some weird sexual tension. Once again they’re trying to outwit one another. That when we get to the crazy stuff. 

And here’s where I get crazy with my stuff. 

Ponk is digging in his lil cave when he accidentally breaks through to a random room buried deep underground. Tommy’s there trying to scam him out of something he has. Tubbo and Ranboo too. When they get to this room Ranboo thinking it’s the panic one and freaks out, but the others calm him down. Ponk thinking theres diamonds in the room storms ahead setting off some traps but surviving. Tubbo opens one of the chests and just says theres a bucket in there. Ponk pulls it out and says it has a named fish in it. 

You see where I’m going. 

They empty the bucket whilst asking what the fish is called. They are interrupted by a voice. It’s Sally. 

Dream had captured her and bound her to a bucket and put her in the chest and hid her from Wilbur. 

She has been released. She freaks out over how much time has past because for her nothing has changed at all. She thought it might have been a couple of hours or something since Dream pulled that prank on her but clearly not. 

They all catch up and the season ends with Sally and Wilbur meeting in front of Quackity, Dream in the shadows and Sally and Wilbur turning to see Fundy who just freaks the fuck out. 

Oh and just a side, Callahan is the last member of the syndicate and God of the server and is having fun playing with the mortals. 

And then I have the next season planned out and how I’d end the whole thing but like until then. This is it. Mid Season to finale. How I picture things happening. 

None of this will happen but isn’t it fun to imagine? 

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Approaching Countdown.”

Had to write this at work today, so sorry it is short. 

The GA chairwoman stood in the oppressive muggy heart of Earth. She really hated it, it made her skin itch and her eyes sting, there wasn’t enough water in their atmosphere to actually cause her any harm, but there was definitely enough of it to make her very uncomfortable. A part of her had hoped that it might rain, forcing her to stay off world for the weather formation, but these humans knew what they were doing and had scheduled the launch for a cloudless day.

She looked up at the yellow earth sun and sighed. The humans had been very excited to invite the GA delegations out to view the launch. Humans were generally very excited to show anyone they could their dangerous past, and looking at the thing that was passing for a spaceship, she could not see how it would get more than a few inches off the ground, much less out of orbit. Supposedly they had dipped into very rare rocket fuel reserves to even do this as it required fossil fuel.

Fossil Fuel!

Let that sink in for a moment.

Liquified dead plant and animal remains mixed with liquid oxygen and some sort of oxidizer. She wasn’t sure what that last part meant, she wasn’t a rocket scientist. She sighed again, personally she wished she didn’t have to be here, for she doubted the launch was going to go as the human expected. In all reality her nerves were shot and she wished that she could just pass out for the next few hours and forget where she was. Everything was out of her hands anyway. Her orders had been given and now all she could do was wait.

She stood in the heat not too distant from her array of human bodyguards,dressed in dark suits and wearing dark glasses to cover their eyes. Somehow they managed to look more intimidating than normal humans did frowning, missing the characteristic tooty smile she had grown to associate with humans.

Shehad spent far too much time with Admiral Vir it seemed.

She sighed at the thought of him and shook her head.

Every time she tried to think about something else, it just circled back around to him. She tried not to think about it, taking a very deep breath.

There was some shuffling behind her and she turned slowly on her knuckles feeling the concrete grinding below her hands as she did. Two Tesraki and one other Rundi stood behind her having been let through by the human guards, who still eyed them with some measure of suspicion.

“Everything is in place, Chancellor.”

She nodded her head once.

“How many?”

There are at least thirty patrolling the borders of the trajectory zone. They will know as soon as he breaches orbit.

“And our engineers?”

“We are having trouble gaining access, but we are still working on it.”

“You better hope that we can.”

She lifted her head towards the sky where she could see the faint line of the moon against the blueness of the sky.

“We better hope.”

***

Captain Richard’s palms were very sweaty. He tried to wipe them discreetly on his pants or more accurately a onesie the scientists were calling a “Liquid Cooling and Ventilation Garment. So like a Onesie with tubes in it. He glanced sidelong over to where Admiral Vir was sitting staring at the antique space suit equipment laid out before them. 

He tried not to make it look like he was staring, but he totally was.

Admiral Vir wasn’t much older than him, maybe by a year or two, but that was part of what made being in the same room with him so strange. Every time he, or probably anyone, though of an admiral, they generally thought of some stuffy grey haired fat guy who sat behind a desk and gave orders. But…. this guy…. Well he was nothing like that at all. He was young and stupidly fit, and sure he had some white hair appearing at his temples, but his hair was blond enough you only noticed it in certain light.

And he was very personable, that was the first thing Richards had noticed.

The man knew how to work a room. He was funny, and despite being intimidated by his status, he found himself forgetting constantly that this guy wasn’t someone cool he had just met out at the bar. 

As if he could sense someone looking at him, Admiral Vir turned around theappriture of his mechanical eye adjusting slightly. He grinned in a very un-admiral way, “This is so friggin awesome.” The man looked like he was about to jump out of his boots, “Just look at this stuff-” He grinned some more dancing from one foot to the other, “Happiest damn day of my life and I’m wearing a diaper.”

That got the rest of the shuttle crew laughing which then devolved into a discussion about the pros and cons of diapers versus the new suit catheters. There was a surprising split on the discussion as the group of men talked, a conversation that was only broken as a group of scientists stepped in to help them with their suits. The process was rather tedious, the suits were bulky and cumbersome, nothing like the neat, sleek and comfortable suits used on regular ships.

Stepping into the pants of the suit they had to hold their arms up as the upper portion was lowered into place over their heads while others hurried in to pull on their arms and then help them fit into the gloves. He ducked his head as the communications cap was placed over his head. They would be wearing the full suit into orbit, though they would be allowed to take it off on the journey over. A journey which would take roughly three days or more to complete. One of them would stay in orbit while Admiral Vir and Richards himself took the lunar module down to the surface.

It was all supposed to go very smoothly from here.

Once suited up he couldn’t help but be reminded of when he was a child ready to go sledding with his siblings, in his massive snow pants and puffy jacket, waddling across the floor with his arms held out to either side.

He honestly hoped he looked cooler than he felt.

Admiral Vir might have been able to pull it off if he wasn’t nearly skipping, which seemed pretty improbable in the massive ass snowman suit.

Glancing out the long windows and into the horizon, he could see crowds of people set up in the distance. Head was a teenager when the Enterprise Launched, standing in an awed crowd as the massive behemoth hauled herself into the sky. He remembered the thrill, and he remembered the fear as he watched it go higher and higher and higher.

He remembered that day as one that led him to where he was now, and couldn’t believe it.

***

 The UN president stood at her lectern feeling a soft breeze blow through her hair. Today was a good day, or at least it was shaping up to be a good day. She had two folders sitting under the lectern like she always did during times like this. One of them was green and one of them was red.

The red one was sitting on top.

She glanced over to where the GA president stood and scowled slightly. She had always thought the little creature was kind of ugly looking like an ant. She had never liked bugs, or bug like things of any kind, which she found to be a common trait among aliens, Drev, Vrul, Gibb, Rundi, Burg.

She looked up at the sky neck stretched out sunning herself in the bright morning.

She could see the rocket in the distance held up on its platform. Admiral Vir would be moving into place now. Most people would see this only as some sort of historical recreation act, but PR analytics suggested that, if the Admiral succeeded, approval rating in the GA would go up almost 3 percent. Human and alien relations had been rockier than most people would like to admit. If Admiral Vir were to fail, the failure would likely shock the aliens senseless, and if he died. It could completely break down human/alien relations for the foreseeable future.

They were on the cusp of cooperation or war, and any single event could push them in that direction.

Relations might have already broken down if it wasn’t for Admiral Vir.

The president reached down a hand brushing the tips of her fingers over the red folder.

***

Jade examined the rocket from the inside of her decontaminated engineer’s suit. She was busy going over final checks before the craft was launched. Personally she thought it was a bad idea. There was no reason to go and do something so dumb when they had perfectly viable technologies available at their fingertips. Of course, she understood the value and importance of major historical events, but that didn’t mean they had to reenact them. I mean it's not like anyone ever wanted toreinaced the titanic or the Berlin wall, or burning down the library of Alexandria, but for some reason some yahoos wanted to strap themselves to a rocket inside a tin can and fly into space.

Using the same EXACT design from TWO THOUSAND years ago.

Might as well start using steam locomotives to get around.

She inched her way along the scaffolding catwalk  just a few hundred feet in the air. She didn’t mind heights, butcher wasn’t stupid, and would enver risk herself unecissarily. She examined the bolts holding the ship together passing a critical eye over each and every one of them. If just a single one of them got loose, it might potentially pull the whole panel off. If that happened, the launch trajectory might destabilize and they could begin to spin into the ground and explode.

Off in the distance she heard an alarm calling her down from above.

She would need to leave soon, and so tucked her clipboard under one arm and began to climb down one of the ladders towards the distant ground.

It was then that she noticed something strange. She didn’t know why she noticed it, it was so small, and she was in a hurry but…. There was something…. Strange. She glanced over and squinted towards the strange reflection.

The siren continued to blare.

She should really go.

She started to descend but then.

“You might want to check that again.”

She nearly leaped out of her skin at the voice turning on the spot and pitching ackwards with wide open eyes nearly falling over the rail as she came face to face with a porcelain white face and wide black eyes like pools of onyx. For a second she almost screamed assuming she had gone insane, but then paused as she saw the figure floating before her a gravity belt around it’s waist, and hundreds of white ribbons streaming from it’s back.

A starborn!

She had seen a documentary mentioning them, even with a few images, so she knew who it was. She also knew that they could read minds.

It wasn’t supposed to be able to speak, but this one was wearing translation gloves, and spoke sign language rather fluently.

“You might want to check again.” It repeated

“But I-”

“The Admiral is expecting an attempt on his life, and the best way to do it would be to sabotage the shuttle. You will want to help me because if the Admiral dies, my daughter will be very upset.”

She opened her mouth then closed it, not sure how to respond but eventually turned back to the shuttle and leaned forward pointing to the side of the rocket, “That, right there, can you float over and take a look. The creature floated past her, billowing like smoke as he eased over. He pointed, “This?”

“Yes.”

He touched it.

“Can you feel it/” She wondered.

“It doesn't feel like the rest of the ship though I cannot say how.”

“Keep looking around, I need to call in-”

“NO!”

She frowned hand halfway to her mic.

“Don’t tell them, we don’t want them to know that we have found anything.

She wasn’t so sure about that, but she didn’t feel like pissing this thing off, so reached to her mic, “Mission control this is Engineering, i'll need a postpone on the launch while I finish off my checklist. This is taking longer than I anticipated.”

“Roger that.” mission control responded.

The sirens stopped a moment later as she urged the Starborn forward to prod at the spot. There wasa soft peeling noise, and after a moment, she watched as the creature came away with a strip of tape.

He floated over to her and she examined it. That shouldn’t have been there, this was not the heat resistant sort of tape they used, and it certainly wasn’t something they would have bothered to put on the outside of a ship. The only thing it seemed to do was match the paint color.

She leaned forward glancing at the side of the shi. If this had gone up during exit it would have burned off, and that would reveal. 

The loose bolt underneath. Just like she feared.

She could fix it and ordered the starborn to do so following the instructions in her head. After that she ordered him to take her vest camera and fly around the outside of the rocket. She had noticed based on the way the light interacted with the tape as compared to the finish of the rocket’s exterior. 

If only she had someone who was good at distinguishing subtle color, and then she remembered.

She called the starborn back.

“Go, get a Drev and hurry back here. I’ll try to stall them.”