#i dont remember the last time i posted something embarrassing so clearly it was Time

[laudthingcat]

JJK// Your top lifts up while you sleep pt.2

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo

Tags: nsfw content, somnophilia, cnc

Part 2 of the series!! I really loved how the first part turned out so i want to continue it 💕 You can read part one here ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

Note: it’s been over a year since i posted this and i am growing tired of all the comments from blank blogs and blogs that belong to minors attacking me for making a fictional character fuck another fictional character in their sleep in a fictional story. Grow the fuck up and learn not to fucking read a story if you dont like the tags?? To everyone else who knows how to differentiate fiction from reality, i love you pookies <3

Masterlist

Gojo: After another week away from you because of his work, he was finally excited to get back home to you. It was past midnight when he entered the apartment so he tried his best to be as quiet as possible since he was absolutely sure you were already asleep, and he was right. Entering the bedroom he saw you peacefully sleeping while hugging his pillow. He smiled to himself knowing that you missed him as much as he missed you. Making his way towards the bed, he could see you better, easily noticing this time that your top was almost completely rolled up and that you were not wearing any shorts at all. His face lit up since he really missed all of you. Taking a seat on the bed next to you, he leaned in and started leaving soft kisses on your exposed shoulder, slowly moving lower and lower, until he reached your thighs. God, he loved your thighs. Everything about them was perfect. Giving them a soft bite, he chuckled the moment you squeezed your thighs together. It was always a sign that you were getting horny and he knew it.

He had to check it so he slightly moved your panties aside, just enough for his hand to make its way inside of them. Using his middle finger he caressed your pussy before inserting it and a second one inside of you. Just as he thought, you were already wet and ready for a good pounding. So not wasting any more time, he got rid of his clothes and placed himself on top of you. After stroking his already erect cock a couple times, he lined it under your pussy. Grabbing a hold of your hip, he started moving. In between soft whimpers, he quietly laughed because he knew you’d get angry at him if you were awake since you absolutely hate being teased. You took him by surprise when you squeezed your thighs together once more, making him almost cum on the spot. Embarrassed, he cursed the fact that he was so excited, so he quickened the pace, knowing for sure that he won’t last for much longer. Not much longer after, he entered your pussy and pushing as far in as possible, he came inside of you.

Leaning in once more, he placed a tired kiss on your forehead. "A little warm surprise for tomorrow morning"

Choso: Waking up in the middle of the night isn't something uncommon for Choso. He's been struggling with insomnia since he can remember. What he'd usually do is stay in bed and watch you sleep while waiting for the morning to come. This particular night tho it was a bit different. When he woke up you were no longer in his arms. You were sleeping on your back, with your legs conveniently opened and your top no longer covering your abdomen and chest. The sight made him hard on the spot and there was nothing he wanted to do more than touch you. He hesitated at first, thinking that it wouldn't be ok for him to do so, even tho, as he clearly remembers, you did talk about this before, and you ensured him that you are absolutely fine and actually looking forward to that happening at some point. Making up his mind, he changed his position, now sitting next to you instead of laying down.

Being sure that you want that as much as he does, he went straight for your chest. Still very careful with his touches so that you wouldn't wake up, he cupped one of your tits and started squeezing and playing with it while devouring the other one with his mouth, all while rubbing his knee against your clothed pussy. Your tits were so soft, he could never get enough of them. But there was something he was even more excited about. The thought of filling you up with his cum from coming inside of you as many times and he wants without you even knowing was getting him on a whole different level of excitement.

He did just as he said. He came inside of you until you were full. He made you come multiple times too. He even managed to fall back asleep, too exhausted to actually stay awake as usual. When you woke up you were very excited to tell him about the dream you had, to which he paid full attention. He's found something else to do from now on when his insomnia kicks in.

Note: I haven't wrote anything in over a year so i dunno if i still have it but oh well what never stopped was me being horny so i hope you enjoy it 🫶🏻

[pureseasalt]

traces of ink (sydney x carmy)

made after seeing the post by @theladyvalkyrieskyeart​ . feeling insane over the idea of carmy drawing syd. i dont believe that he has never done it after meeting her the writers and cast are lying to us. 

posted on pureseasalt on ao3, but posting here again. no beta. i wrote this in one go and blacked out after.

Summary: He lied when he said he’d never drawn again until Claire. He did. Once. (Set pre-season 2. Carmy has a panic attack. Guess who he remembers to help him cope.)

Words: 1.7k

--------------------------------------

It was probably the middle of the night. Carmy couldn’t be exact about that. His memory’s kinda fucked– been fucked, since Mikey, or even before that. There were times from high school when Mom would go full apeshit ‘cause she told him to get the phone, to make some calls or just to embarrass Sugar by letting her hear the fights she picks with the phone operator. “No- no, sweetheart, I said don’t fucking put me on hold ever again– yeah? Alright! Go fuck yourself!” Something like that. Anyway, Mom would get mad at him ‘cause she told him to get the phone and somehow, he’d just forget that she did. He’d insist, “I didn’t hear you, Ma!” And he’d believe that; that he didn’t really hear her because in his head it never happened. 

But somehow it always did. She’d tell him things that never seemed to have happened.

This one, he just couldn’t remember when he did, or why. 

Carmy does a lot of things that he could only truly understand the reason behind after the fact he’s done it. All he knew, at that time, was he couldn’t sleep. He’d woken up in cold sweat after having one of those nightmares. He was in the middle of the stage and there’s a stove right in front of him and Chef was there. At the very middle of the seats. No audience but him. The smell of gasoline pervaded but there was no fire burning. No one else in the theater but Carmy and a man who smiled at him like he was the only one who knew the lines. 

And just when Chef was about to say it– “You are an excellent chef,” Carmy’s hand collided with the coffee table, jolting him awake.

You are also a piece of– 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Carmy hissed as he cradled the smarting joints. He sat up feeling as if the world had ended in his sleep and he was the only one left. In many ways, at that point, he actually was. His sous and pastry chef had walked out on him without any notice. Carmy knew that it was only a matter of time until the rest would do the same, even Richie, because Carmy was Carmy and making people stay had never been his specialty. Look at Mikey. 

The lighter wasn’t anywhere to be found so smoking was out of the window. He couldn’t calm himself down. His heart was running ahead of him and he was practically lugging his body around the room, pacing around looking for a destination. Not there, he reprimanded as he thought about the restaurant. It all still felt so raw. If he went there now he might still hear his own voice, the same way his mother’s voice echoed past the kitchen and into the living room, invading whatever silence it finds and staying there. 

So he settled for the floor, next to the stack of cookbooks. The wood creaked beneath him as he crouched down, eventually sitting to fiddle with his thumbs and grip his hair by the roots. His breathing was still messed up, but at least he could see clearly. One book strayed from the rest, he even noticed. Fish Plate by Michelle Rhimes. Its hardbound cover was sticking out and didn’t lay flat like the last of its pages, on the account of something stuck inside. 

He picked it up and flipped through the table of contents; through honey-glazed tilapia and fish florentine. There was a pen clipped to a blank piece of paper. Well, not completely blank. Someone had scribbled 1 tbsp dried thym and didn’t bother finishing it. Must have been him. He knew it was him. That was the funny thing about memory.

His was fucked, yes, but there were details that his brain permanently latched on, sometimes whispering to him in bed like Angry Annie, his bully from first grade, recounting all his mistakes for the entire class to laugh at and refusing to just let him have a good night’s rest without wanting to hit himself. Carmy recalled that he’d written that note for his next door neighbor back in New York. This old couple that routinely asked him for a good trout recipe after they found out that he was a chef. Both of them were hard of hearing, so Carmy thought of writing it down. 

By the time he’d gotten around to doing it, they’d already moved out. 

The rainbow trout on page 79 stared back at him and Carmy blew air out through his nose. 

His brain had a knack for comedic timing.

The pink bellied fish looked exactly like the one on Sydney’s scarf. 

The one that seemed peach-pink sometimes under the midday sun. “I feel like I’m owed one,” she told him on one of those days when she wore it (Trout scarf, he’d labeled it in his head) (Nice scarf, looks beautiful, he sometimes wanted to say, but that was just weird). She ribbed him that time at the back of the restaurant, which he so rightfully deserved. 

What boss leaves the wrangling of a batshit, toxic system to a new hire so that he could attend an Al-Anon meeting and make sense of his brother. Who also happened to be dead. 

Asshole. 

Syd should’ve called him an asshole that day. 

She should’ve left that day.

Instead, she laid out her heart– “This place could be different,” in a manner so concise and cogent and honest that, by the end of it, he’s surprised he’s not wiped out on the floor mouthing, like the crazy that he is, "What the hell just happened.” Because that was more than he ever deserved at that moment. When she talked to him like that it was as if Carmy had been brought back to earth. Sobered up after a long life of passing through doors on nothing but frantic energy. Talked down, excluded, not called, shouted at. Then all of a sudden somebody sits him down and levels with him, tells him, “Hey, dude, I’m with you. Give me the respect I deserve. You’re not the only one in here. I’m with you. ”  

All he could do was nod to everything Syd was saying. 

And she laughed with him and she said, “Fuck brunch.”

Fuck brunch.

He shook his head. In the middle of a fucking panic attack and he’s chuckling. He looked down and realized that he’d been pressing the pen cap, leaving dashes of blue ink on the paper. Sydney did that too sometimes. 

She would repeatedly press the cap as she pondered over that little notebook. He always took notice of that when it happens, even from his office, because she did everything with precise intention. Her writing had a decisive rhythm; hurried, but it knew its destination. Never one to waste time. That was Syd. So those few minutes of her just… idly playing with the cap would make him pause and listen (Never look because that was weird). 

Carmy often wondered what she was thinking about.

Eventually, the clicking would be a steady white noise among the rattling of pots and pans. If he actually stills himself, mutes everything else in a way that he could only do when he’s cooking, he could hear her humming. Just a faint sound trickling through the grooves and corners of the kitchen. Carmy would then resume bookkeeping, feeling lighter about the world. He connected the dashes on the paper with uneven lines. Carmy never looked but he could see . 

Her brows scrunched together when she was deep in thought. Her lips slanted down in a pout. Trout scarf wrapped around her hair. 

It never occurred to him that the last time he’d drawn was in high school.

He only looked at what he’d done– Sydney leaning against the countertop– and thought:

I gotta do more . 

Sydney had a number of scarves, so it only made sense that he did everything, didn’t he?  Besides, it was a puzzle to him every morning what her criteria was for picking and choosing, because of course Sydney would have one. The one with the rays and orange leaves, he decided, is when she wakes up feeling giddy. Probably has an idea she wants to pitch. 

She came to work once in that, beaming. Her smile reached her cheeks. The sun was in her hair. She snorted loudly when she laughed. 

Carmy etched her head with lines that reached to the sky, like a halo. He felt good looking at it. 

Then, he decided to draw some more, even the ones that he knew would make him feel worse. It felt like disrespect to only put to paper the ones that made him feel good, because Carmy had made her feel bad too. More than she deserved. He had shot her down about the short rib and risotto, without the same grace that she’d decided to give him when he made mistakes. Syd wore that same orange scarf that day. 

Her eyes flinched. The light of promise died in there, darkening them. Her braids fell to her shoulders as they sank to Carmy’s rejection. 

Cross hatches made shadows around her face; although having finished it, Carmy found that he didn’t feel as shitty as he thought he would. Only, oddly determined, like he was telling himself, I gotta do more. I gotta do more. I gotta see her again.  

The blue scarf was for when she’s determined enough to knock down walls. Her gaze was sharp, straight ahead on the prize. Carmy drew that one in the middle of the paper. 

Fatigue knocked him down after the fifth…or was it the sixth? (It was the tenth.) (The side profile of her face, earrings dangling like stars.) When he woke up, it was already 11:30 AM. He was on the floor with his slacked fingers keeping the pen from rolling to the floor. 

The cookbook was open.

Different faces of the same woman were sketched on one sheet of paper, and some more on the spaces between the pages. 

—

The next time Carmy tells himself that he won’t draw again will be after Claire.

He will lie again.

The next time, however, Carmy will remember when he does it, and why.

[waywardavatarenthusiast]

first off, i wanna start off my mentioning how embarrassing it was for you to block me seeing as a block button is meant to make sure you don’t have to interact with a page and it can’t interact with you. you used it so you could spew a)grossly skewed facts and b) pretend to take the high road. i remember very clearly what i said last time, which was that you were the only one to acknowledge that sometimes racist themes are used in sokkla fics. i also very clearly remember you justifying all explicit sokkla work by saying that a) LOK shows Sokka as an adult, and it’s implied that Sokka and Suki slept together in book 3 of atla. i’m not going down that rabbit hole again, but i never exempted you from anything, i just thanked you for not condoning racism the way some people in the fandom have. i’m not pretending to take the high road, you contrived that i was taking it. how the sokkla fandom is conceived is not for you to worry about. if you want to worry about it, be my guest. but you have no right to ask me to alter my content to help with that mission. not with the amount of SA, sexual slavery, and justified misogyny and imperialism content riddling this community. yes, i can see that you’ve been watching my content through alternative accounts because i blocked you as well so don’t even start. i already learned with my last run in with some of the biggest people in the sokkla fandom that they’re not people i want to associate with and that’s okay. and i never called you the Sokkla Queen or suggested that you were trying to be. but yeah, you dont decide what is bad for the community and what’s not. i get along better with pages solely interested in azula, and i still post my sokkla work on ao3 and it does numbers so i’m really not worried about how you or anyone feels about me and who interacts with me.

tldr; find something better to do than pretend to be unbothered and ignore content you don’t agree with like this fandom has suggested i do several times.

[whatagirlwants]

a fan said he showed them the song last year in a secret session so if the four years line is literal it may most likely be about o. some people are saying it might also be about his time on hsmtmts, but it’s hard to give him the benefit of the doubt. idk if him releasing now is due to s doing well but i do think he’s being purposeful and wanting to make noise where he can (referencing o, posting an hsmtmts tiktok after ignoring the series otherwise for it’s last season)

yeah u’re right if he showed them last year then it for her now it makes sense cause i was confused .

and sorry his fans that are saying its about hsmtmts are delusional to try to make him more stable than he is “ill never find love like yours” is not about the cast or show.

i saw his tiktok and its just more bait to the whole sound videos are about O, he’s clearly using her & the show audience cuz majority of his fans came from the show. and im talking about his GP audience that are on tiktok not the 5 of his fans that are on stan twitter.

his music has always been released during hsmtmts seasons premiers from what i remember probably so he can easily do press and not only that his music also has always been linked to olivia even when he was with S and was writing about her his hsm teen audience were always saying its about O, they always lose it and cry on tiktok if its a song about here like just go through the sound of the recent one he posted.

i dont think hes evil or something i think he uses that hype for his career.

its actually embarrassing for him both girls are successful. O moved on and BEEN moving on & hes reminiscing over a time he was 19 in a teenage relationship like grow up.

anyways im bored so i had to let all my thoughts out

[restinpeacesensei]

embarrassing comic continues under the cut

content warning: unsanitary

[safertokiss]

Don’t Call Me Doctor - Part 2

A/N: Heyo party people! Ok this is part 2 of DCMD and I’m super excited for you guys to read it. I’m so happy I finally decided to give in to my urge to write cause it’s so much fun! Thank you guys for all the support of the first part. Enjoy:)❤️

Pairing : SPENCER x READER

Category: Fluff and Angst and Smut

Word Count: 2.2k

ENJOY!

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

The moment she walked through those doors I knew I was a fucking goner.

Her beauty was indescribable. Unmatchable. Unattainable.

Dangerous.

She was dangerous. All she had to do was enter the building and I was already wrapped around her finger. Dangerous.

Even though the bullpen was bustling and filled with chaos at the time, the unmistakable creak of the front door rang clear in my ears. Glancing away from my work momentarily, my eyes were immediately drawn to her. I mean how could they not be? One look in her direction and it was clear she was nervous. She looked flustered, her face was flushed, but strangely enough there was a hint of a smile upon it. Even in her frenzied state, her beauty knocked the wind out of my chest. Who the hell is this girl?

As she surveyed the hectic room, I noticed her head perk up at whatever or whoever it was that she had located. Following her line of sight I was met with Hotch. Oh so she’s here for him, maybe a family member or friend.

Wait. Wait wait wait wait.

Remembering the conversation Hotch had had with us recently about a new recruit to the team, I was able to answer my own question. Oh god she’s the new recruit.

This is bad. This is really, REALLY bad.

I couldn’t go through this again, it simply wasn’t an option for me. My heart could not handle anymore pain, a pain that would surely accompany this girl if I let her in. Too much had happened in my life already at such a young age, from missing my chance with JJ to losing the one somewhat serious relationship I had ever had. Like I said, she’s dangerous. I had only been aware of her existence for a couple of minutes and I already knew that she possessed the key to unlocking my withered heart. However, she also wielded the axe that would run me through in a split second.

I knew in that moment that, as much as it pained me, I couldn’t let her have the chance. I had to take away her power over me before she was even aware she yielded it.

Looking back in the direction of my enchantress, I noticed her and Hotch had moved from their original spot and were now walking towards the center of the room. Towards the rest of the team. Towards me. Quickly, in order to avoid making eye contact I ducked my head down and pretended to work away at the papers sprawled in front of me.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see the others shaking from excitement at meeting our newest agent and I didn’t blame them. It wasn’t often we got new blood around here. Certainly none of them had taken my breath away like she did.

I was aware of how rude it was for me to not join in on the welcome party, but I was still struggling to breathe correctly from the brief glance I got of her. From my position at my desk I was close enough to hear the conversations being held, well enough at least to hear her be introduced to the team.

Y/N Y/L/N.

It fit her perfectly. A beautiful name for a gorgeous woman. While the others were busy meeting our newest member, I decided I just had to hear how her name rolled off my tongue, even if just this once. In the most quiet voice I could muster up, I released my own personal curse from my lips.

“Y/N.”

Fuck. It just felt so right. It was as if she had been given that name just so at one point in life I’d be able to shout it out for the entire world to hear. Why did the universe hate me so much?

I had gotten so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I hadn’t noticed the woman plaguing my mind had already taken a seat at the desk next to mine. It wasn’t until she sputtered out an overly enthusiastic greeting directed towards me that I realized she was there.

“Hi I’m Y/N Y/L/N! Nice to meet you Dr. Reid.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Immediately as the words started pouring from her lips I felt my body tense. Suddenly I understood the allure of sirens. How a voice could be so enticing to reel in unsuspecting sailors on the sea. I understood their choice of action. But when she called me Dr. Reid. Fuck. That should simply be illegal. Hearing her use my title awakened something deep inside of me that I had been trying to suppress since the moment she waltzed through the door. It also awakened something below my waist, my body twitching as a result. Stop it Spencer. You can’t let this happen, you need to push through it. Make her stay away.

I must have been sitting there speechless for too long because before I knew it she was at it again.

“Sorry if I scared you! I’m not the most socially adept individual. I couldn’t help but notice that-“

Put a stop to this Spencer. Make her stay away.

“You’re rambling.” Fuck that was rude.

“Pardon me Dr. Reid?”

Holy fuck if I hear her call me that one more time I don’t think there’s anything in the world strong enough to prevent me from ripping her clothes off and taking her right here on my desk. Spencer stop! Make her stay far away from you.

“You were rambling. Thought you’d like to know. And it’s Spencer.” I am such a dick. But I had no choice. Letting her into my heart would only leave the both of us in shambles, longing for the pieces to be put back together. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt, I accompanied my rude remark with a slight glance in her direction. Yeah that was a big mistake. Even if it only lasted a split second, I could clearly see the hurt plaguing her beautiful orbs, a hurt that was caused by yours truly. Wow this fucking sucks.

“Oh...ok”, she replied before turning her attention back to her files in front of her.

I really wish I didn’t have to treat her like that, but it was the only option that left us both unscathed. Returning to the task at hand, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander and imagine a life alongside the enchantress sitting next to me.

Maybe in a world where I wasn’t so fucked up.

~~~

Ok remember when I said this sucked? Yeah it was worse than I could’ve ever imagined. It had been about three months since Y/N had started working with us and I spent the majority of that time running away from her. She’d walk in, I’d briskly walk out before cracking. She’d wave at me and I’d have to look away before imploding on the spot.

The worst part of this whole ordeal was that it was obvious that she had a thing for me. The amount of times I had caught her staring at my hands or for some reason my hair while she was trying to be subtle, was a number almost too large to keep track of. I’d be trying to mind my own business and block her out of my thoughts, when I’d catch her biting her lip, lost in thought, while her eyes raked my body. It was getting to be too much to handle.

Most of the time while we were at the round table discussing cases she would take the seat next to mine, much to my dismay. Her close proximity always acted as a ticking time bomb to my poor, defenseless body, usually eliciting reactions not suitable for a work environment. Following nearly every meeting I’d hightail it out of the room straight to the bathroom. And while she probably assumed I was just trying to avoid her, the reality was much more humiliating.

What had she turned me into? I felt like a horny teenager all of the time. What would my friends think if they knew I had to run to the bathroom to take care of my arousal almost every other day? It was so embarrassing, but only she could provoke such a reaction from me.

As often as my bathroom escapades took place, I had become a pro at suppressing my true feelings for her. For some reason, however, my attempts to make her stay away triggered the opposite response on her end. I can’t even explain the amount of pain that filled my chest everytime I had to reject her offers to get together and spend time together outside of work. I had even stopped going out with the unit because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself around her, usually coming up some lame excuse about having work to catch up on.

I had no idea what to do. I wanted her so bad.

I felt like I was in my own personal purgatory that had absolutely no escape in sight. All I had to do to set myself free was reach out and touch the ethereal being in front of me and express the feelings I harbored for her. But I still refused to consider that an option.

Not only was she keeping my mind occupied at work, I couldn’t make it through a single night without seeing her beautiful face. While the dreams had started off pretty neutral and innocent, they quickly progressed into territory that shouldn’t have been accessible. I truly felt like a teenager again with the amount of wet dreams I had been having to deal with. I just couldn’t help myself. Her body was amazing. It was physically impossible for me to not picture myself ramming her into my desk or bending her over the round table, making her scream my name for all of D.C. to hear.

God it was getting harder and harder to ignore her. What was stopping me from grabbing her wrist, pulling her into an empty office and destroying her on every surface available. I had to do something or figure out a way to push those thoughts away.

“Hey pretty boy! Get over here!”

I swiveled in my chair to seek out Morgan, spotting him across the bull pen. Sighing quietly, I made my way over to my friend, trying to mask the internal conflict occurring between my brain and my heart.

“What can I do for you Morgan?”

“You gonna tell me what’s going on between you and Y/L/N?” Shit. Fuck. I thought it wasn’t noticeable. Play it cool Spencer.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me pretty boy.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Lies. All lies.

“Reid, come on man. It’s not really hard to notice that something is off between you two. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you interact with her outside of a case and you’re the kid who’s known to ramble to anyone within a five mile radius, nevermind the girl who sits next to you everyday. Did something happen?”

“No...no. Nothing happened and quite frankly I seriously don’t think it’s any of your business to question me about who I do and do not converse with, ok?”

“Geez! Calm down buddy. I’m sorry, ok. I won’t bring it up again.” I once again felt like the biggest dick in the world watching him walk away from where we had been standing. Recognizing that there was nothing I could do about it now, I made my way back to my desk, noticing that Y/N had returned from her lunch break.

After sitting down and working for a bit, I couldn’t help myself. The urge to look at the object of my affections was just too damn insistent. Glancing up at her, I was instantly entranced by the goddess in front of me. She was busy scribbling away at whatever was laid out in front of her, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her face. She was biting her lip in what I would assume was a way to help her concentrate, but all it did was stir things inside of me. Ok this was getting ridiculous.

It was crazy how even the simplest of things, like her eyes crinkling at the corners when she smiled or the way she licked her lips like it was going out of style, would instantly prevent my mind from functioning correctly and make the world around me dissolve until all that existed anymore was her. God those eyes. So intricately designed that even the most beautiful gods and goddesses would be jealous.

WAIT. HER EYES.

Fuck. She was looking at me. She saw me staring directly at her.

As fast as I possibly could, I ducked my head down and cleared my throat, deciding to play it off and pretend like nothing had just happened. Except that that was kind of hard to do when my body decided to say “fuck you” and turned into a goddamn tomato within seconds. Oh god why did I do that? How was I going to get myself out of this already complicated situation? This was bad. This was really bad. Three months of rejections and cold responses down the drain with one stupid, meaningful glance in her direction.

Fuck.

To be continued...

https://safertokiss.tumblr.com/post/623412350001856512/dont-call-me-doctor-part-3

https://safertokiss.tumblr.com/post/623219810962178048/dont-call-me-doctor-part-1

Tag list: @hopebaker @pastathighs @psychedellic-phase @gloryekaterina @sleepysnapesnake

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

hello hello hello!  and welcome to Season 12 of Supernatural. 

I admit that initially I STRUGGLED WITH SEASON 12.  I LOATHED the British Men of Letters (other than Lady Antonia Bevell; her hot working mom energy can get it); I have...mixed feelings about Mary; overall it was not a stellar season for me the first go-round.  HOWEVER I shall now give it a second chance,  and look for the subtext within the bad (and if my theory tracks, there will be much subtext as...there is much bad).  Maybe I’ll even develop Ketch appreciation.  **ONWARDS ONCE MORE INTO THE BREACH, MY FRIENDS:

When we last left Dean, I neglected to mention that Amara brought his mom back (this is how much I repressed Mary Winchester I guess?)  We cut to Mary, confused, in a nightgown (I get this is part of the character and that’s why she is wearing it sO wE kNOw iTS rEAlLy MaRY WinCHEstEr because of her nightgown and not Sam Smith’s exquisite face, but honestly WHY - LIKE DID SHE WEAR THE DAMN THING IN HEAVEN THE ENTIRE TIME TOO?).

DEAN [breathing heavily] 

Mom. Listen to me. Your name – your name is Mary Sandra Campbell, okay? You were born December 5, 1954, to Samuel and Deanna Campbell. Your father, he bounced around a lot for, uh, work, and you bounced right along with him, and you ended up in Lawrence, Kansas.

MARY 

How do you know all that?

DEAN 

Dad told me. March 23, 1972, you walked out of a movie theater – Slaughterhouse-Five. You loved it, and you bumped into a big Marine and you knocked him flat on his ass. You were embarrassed, and he laughed it off, said you could make it up to him with a cup of coffee. So, you went to, uh, Mulroney's and you talked and he was cute and he knew the words to every Zeppelin song, so when he asked you for your number, you gave it to him, even though you knew your dad would be pissed. That was the night that – that you met –

MARY 

John Winchester.

DEAN 

August 19, 1975, you were married... in Reno. Your idea. A few years later, I came along, then Sammy.

***DEAN DESCRIBING EVERY DAMN DETAIL OF THIS HAS MURDERED ME.  Also, I know John Winchester “told him the story,” but something about this retelling - these are NOT John Winchester’s words (other than maybe “big Marine”).  The emotions, the feelings, the “you talked and he was cute” Dean is describing is Dean’s retelling, the version he created in his mind of this damn meet-cute, this little love story he played over and over in his head, and that makes me feel warm and tingly and also want to ingest sharp knives.  

***Everyone already knows about the damn Zeppelin reference but just in case you wanted to be tortured, please recall that later on we will get

THIS FUCKING SHIT

Nothing to see here other than Dean using a reference from this LOVE STORY on Cas.  I HATE it here in super hell.  Next rounds on you, Sam.

Anyway, Mary has caught on:

I paused here just now because I had a tHoUGHt.  This season is all about exploring Dean and Sam in their role as sons (this is discussed at the SDCC panel prior to the season; btw they are all free on Prime and I recommend watching before you start each new season for little “reveals” behind some of the plot lines).  We know Sam has no relationship to Mary really, he was a baby when she died, but Dean was a little boy - with a personality, character traits, identifying characteristics that his mother probably knew like the back of her hand.  That’s why my first run-in with Mary left a bad taste in mouth during this season - LIKE THIS IS YOUR KID, and there is NO inkling or recognition until THIS moment?  In a show that just spent an entire season exploring the “unexplained connection” between Dean and GODS SISTER, there no immediate “OH” from his own mother?!

But then I realized why she only connected at this very moment.  This particular moment - and not the moment where he lists the factual details about her before the story of the night she met John.  That little story with all those cute details - that’s the part of Dean that Mary knew before she died - when that part was ALL of Dean.  Before hunting, before John’s quest for revenge turned him into the person he is today, before he saw himself as a blunt little instrument.  That’s why initially Mary has no recognition that this is her son - because the Dean she knew was sensitive, and kind, and OPEN, and liked love stories, and laughing, and warm hugs and maybe flowers. Because if you think about it WE DONT KNOW THAT DEAN.  We only know Dean AMD. (After Mary’s Death).

*****************************************************************************************************

So maybe Mary represents Dean Before Mary’s Death, and whatever part of that Dean remains, no matter how deep he has been buried.  The part that connects with people; the part that doesn’t want to be alone.  The part that helped Amara.  The part that loves Cas.  And that’s why Amara brought her back.  

*****************************************************************************************************

Ok, if I think of it this way, I may like Mary a little better now.

BUT ALSO MY BABY:

Cut to Cas.

[THE MAN WALKS OVER TO THE EDGE OF THE CRATER MADE BY THE LANDING AND SEES CASTIEL PULLING HIMSELF OUT.]

MAN 

Holy mother.

[CASTIEL STANDS UP AND LOOKS AROUND]

CASTIEL 

Where am I?

MAN

Uh...Earth?

CASTIEL 

No. How far am I from Lebanon, Kansas?

MAN 

Uh... Th-three hours, maybe. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Who – What are you, man?

[CASTIEL WALKS TOWARDS THE MAN AND TOUCHES HIM ON THE FOREHEAD. THE MAN DROPS TO THE GROUND. CASTIEL LEAVES HIM THERE AS HE DRIVES OFF IN THE TRUCK]

***I spy a Season 11 random parallel

And Cas says, “Earth - 

***Also, I often wonder if in his mind’s inner GPS, Cas bases distances on how far he is from Dean. 

In the meantime, Bad Things Are Happening to Sam.

***Toni Bevell, don’t join the British Men of Letters you’re so sexy hahah

Other than noting that this is yet another too oft- repeated Sam, the Victim, Always Gets Tortured scenario, I see no point in recapping these parts.

I will just continue to post Toni Bevell hotness for these portions of the episode. Ok?  Ok.  You’re welcome.

BACK TO THE BUNKER:

I already posted this sweet baby reunion in my final Season 11 analysis/recap, but lets see it again at another angle and from Mary’s perspective CAUSE CLEARLY she has...*thoughts*

Poor Cas had no idea he was about to MEET THE PARENT 

It melts my little heart that Dean uses Cas’s full name to introduce him to people.  Especially members of his family who are trying to kill him.

Anyway, then we get a much longed for gem of typical Cas deadpan:

(*I still miss Casifer a little bit though*)

And then we have 

A MOMENT OF CONNECTION!  

At the SDCC panel, Misha specifically noted that both Mary and Cas are outsiders, so this tracks. 

They head to the garage:

[Exhaling sharply, Mary walks towards Baby. She runs her hand lightly over the car.]

MARY This was John's car. Oh, she's still beautiful.

DEAN Hell, yeah, she is.

MARY Hi, sweetheart. Remember me?

[MARY LEANS DOWN AND LOOKS INTO THE CAR SMILING. SHE STARTS LOOKING AT THE FRONT SEAT BUT HER EYES AND HER THOUGHTS LINGER ON THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LEANS DOWN LOOKING AT THE INTERIOR OF THE CAR WITH PRIDE. DEAN LOOKS AT HIS MOM AND REALIZES SHE’S HAVING VERY SPECIFIC MEMORIES OF TIME IN THE BACK SEAT. DEAN LOOKS AROUND THE CAR, AND LOOKS AT HIS MOM.]

***this is where you truly see that Sam Smith is a genius because she took those directions and put them all into THIS:

And then THIS:

DEAN 

Oh…

[MARY LOOKS UP AT DEAN. DEAN REALIZES HE MIGHT HAVE BEEN CONCEIVED IN THAT CAR, STANDS UP QUICKLY AND LOOKS OVER THE CAR. DEAN SWALLOWS HARD, AND GLANCES AT CASTIEL WHO GIVES HIM A QUIZZICAL LOOK.]

DEAN 

We should go.

***At this time I would like to remind everyone that Cas is also generally in the back seat of this car.  

MOVING ON

Meanwhile-

Back at the bunker, Cas is Continuing to Connect with his boyfriend’s mother:

[EXTERIOR DAY; INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS AND THE NOISE OF VIDEO GAMES ARE HEARD. THE CAMERA PANS TO MARY WHO’S WATCHING THE SCENE. CASTIEL IS PICKING UP COFFEE.]

CASTIEL 

Thank you.

[CASTIEL TAKES THE COFFEE TO MARY AND SITS DOWN.]

CASTIEL

This must be difficult for you. I remember my first moments on Earth. It was jarring.

MARY 

One word for it. I grew up with Hunters. I've heard of people coming back from the dead before. But to actually do it... after 30 years. A lot's changed.

[MARY LOOKS AROUND.]

MARY A lot.

Cas:

This is usually a look Reserved For Dean, so its interesting Cas is looking at Mary here [they also weirdly joked about Cas hitting on Mary at the SDCC panel and now I'm giggling because if Mary represents the soft part of Dean this all makes PERFECT SENSE).

BONUS

Actual footage of Sam in super hell

The Cas/Mary bonding worked BTW:

[INTERIOR: GREGORY IS SITTING IN FRONT OF HIS DESK WITH CASTIEL, DEAN, AND MARY STANDING BEFORE HIM.]

DEAN 

So, you dug the bullet out of his leg, no questions asked?

GREGORY 

She offered me 100 grand.

MARY 

And you took it?

GREGORY 

Student loans were a bitch, okay?

[ANGRILY CASTIEL STARTS TOWARDS GREGORY.]

DEAN 

Cas! Cas! Cas! Don't hurt him. Not yet.

**Disclosure: I do not accept the “Cass” spelling and take creative license to change it in the script whenever it appears**

GREGORY 

All right, look, she didn't give me her name. When we were done, the driver bailed, I got paid, and then some other chick shows up, and they all drive away.

MARY 

And that's everything you know?

GREGORY 

(insincerely) Yeah. Totally.

****Um, Mom that’s my boyfriend you don’t order him around like tha-

Oh, well, ok then.

***This is important, because Cas doesn’t obey anyone (other than Dean) blindly ever since he invented free will and all that.  Hence Dean’s surprised/impressed look to Mary above.  

Meanwhile:

I recall that I spent most of my first watch of Season 12 gushing over Toni Bevell, so I’m glad to know this won’t be changing.  You’ve been warned.

Next up, Sam is again sex tortured, Cas is a Helpful Boyfriend, and for some reason, Rick Springfield.  

[wonnoy]

life long besties (?)

i have returned master kageyama

[][]

warnings: i guess insults for people who (i dont know. )

[][][

1 | 2 | 3

Oh god how you hated him. It didn't even matter what you hated about him, it was just everything.

Kageyama Tobio was the most insufferable person on the planet to you and the feeling was mutual. It wasn't instant hatred mind you, it was more like one action triggered the entirety of the downfall. And it all started with Hinata.

Last year of high school, your last year to make memorable memories. Stuff that would make you look back and hopefully not regret or be embarrassed by anything. Much harder said than done really, being outgoing wasn't the strongest suit you could wear.

You looked around the classroom, it was just buzzing with activity and you were the only one left out of it. A little bit of an outcast, you had spent the better of your time studying. The only semi friend you really had was Tsukishima - and even he was too busy with volleyball to actually spend any time with.

Any time you did spend with him was when the two of you were studying at each other's houses. He preferred it that way, there were less distractions there than at school.

Tsukishima was currently sitting by himself too, but you didn't think he'd be by himself for long. Yamaguchi, if you remember correctly, was always dragging him away from the classroom.

You scoffed and slunk your body further down into your seat, was it worth the hassle to go and try to talk to him? At least once without it being about a certain topic or anything? You sighed internally to yourself, probably.

Scooting your chair back, you started to walk over to him. He had his headphones in and a book in his hands, the usual set-up. You gave him a tat on the shoulder and he took his headphones off.

"Isn't Yamaguchi coming soon?" you leaned up against the desk.

Tsukishima scoffed at that, "I'd rather bite my fingers off," and he looked back down at his book. You would have normally took that as a sign to shut-up and go away but-

"So that does mean he's coming by soon right?" you smiled down at him and Tsukishima only sighed muttering 'any second now'.

The doors to your classroom bust open and in came Yamaguchi, smiling wide and eyes already landing on his friend.

"Come on Tsukishima, we gotta go," and Tsukishima only groaned before sinking into his chair, hastily pulling his headphones back on. But Yamaguchi was having none of it, already keen on moving him out of the chair.

You were still leaned against his desk and tilted your head, go somewhere? It was barely lunch time and you knew for a fact that volleyball practice doesn't start until after school.

Curiosity bit at you while Yamaguchi tried dragging his friend out of the chair.

"I can help," you got off the desk and could feel the burning stare of hatred Tsukishima was sending your way.

"Ah thank you y/n," he sounded relieved and began tugging while you started pushing. With great effort, and a couple minutes later, Tsukishima was finally standing but as an upset toddler.

"Where are you taking this big lug?" you leaned against the desk once more. You needed it a bit more for support this time rather than comfort because of the slight exertion you just did. Tsukishima grumbled at you and rolled his eyes. You ignored him.

"We're off to hang out with some other third years at the gym," he explained and stopped thinking for a second, "you're welcome to come with."

You looked behind you to gaze at your desk and the ones surrounding it, they were all empty. It would have been better than staying here alone, you didn't even bring your headphones today. You turned back to Yamaguchi, you were just complaining about being alone and not having enough memories.

Yet when given the opportunity you want to run away from it? Like hell.

"Sure, lead the way,"

__

Yamaguchi talks a lot, but you kind of already knew that. The fact that Tsukishima and him are close friends is insane, polar opposites those two were. The terrible friend and then the mediocre-ly kind friend, a wild dynamic.

"Someone called me Spongebob yesterday because of my freckles," Yamaguchi said. He went and dotted the freckles under his eyes for emphasis and Tsukishima snorted.

"Does that make me Squidward then," he pushed his glasses up, "the one that makes your life hell?"

Yamaguchi paled and nervously laughed. Tsukishima didn't stop his insult there, he then looked at you, "and I guess that makes you Patrick," and you immediately began to beat on him with your hands.

"I'll show you Patrick, you damn squid," you spat. Tsukishima and you lagged behind whilst Yamaguchi kept strolling ahead to the gym doors.

There was already a racket going on inside and it didn't surprise him much. He looked behind him, you were still pulling furiously at Tsukishima's ears as he continued verbally assaulting you.

Yamaguchi opened the doors, "hey guys, I brought a friend!"

There were only two boys inside yelling at one another, Hinata and Kageyama. Ukai was in the corner reading a magazine, he offered to be the 'parental guidance' last night when the third years asked if he could watch over them.

Doesn't seem like he was paying much attention though, which may or may not have been a good thing.

Hinata was bragging about his jumping when Yamaguchi announced his arrival, immediately turning away from Kageyama. Kageyama was fuming in front of him and Hinata turning away only made it worse.

"Ah, Yamaguchi!" Hinata jogged up to him, "took you long enough," he smiled and slapped his hand on the back of Yamaguchi. Sputtering forward, he grumbled from the stinging on his back from the slap that Hinata gave him.

Yamaguchi pointed behind him, "it's because I had these two in tow," pan-zoom in to you now tugging Tsukishima to ground and claiming that 'he was now Plankton in your eyes'.

You stilled when looking over at the doors of the gym - first impressions were already going down the drain and you quickly climbed off of Tsukishima whilst brushing your skirt down to manageable levels.

You waved, "hi," and the orange man smiled really wide at you. You think you remember him, you believe you actually watched one of the volleyball games after Tsukishima mentioned it at the end of a study session.

Hinata Shoyo, and the one fuming behind him was Kageyama Tobio. They were the star duo when it came to 'quick attacks' if you could remember the term correctly.

"I think this is the first time I've seen you outside of the hallways," Hinata laughed. He was already striding towards you and gripping your wrist, dragging you to the gym with him. Protests were choked back as you slowly skid to the doors and into the gymnasium. You haven't really spent a lot of time in here, normally you were in and then you were out.

It felt uncustomary to be standing here.

You looked over at the last third year of the room, Kageyama. His hair reminded you of a weirdly shaped q-tip and his face seemed to always be holding a permanent look of anger on it.

"Dumbass!" Kageyama bellowed out and you immediately puffed your chest at him like some weird peacock. Did he just - did he just call you a dumbass?

Hinata behind you was about to say something back but you beat him to it, it could have saved you this entire mess of hatred. But no, your fat mouth just had to open.

"I'm not the dumbass, dumbass," you shot back. Your brows were furrowed and fingers were clenching. Hinata still was holding on your wrist and he let you go, setting you free to swing your arms right back down to your sides comfortably.

Kageyama looked taken a back a little bit because it was you who replied and not Hinata. But it definitely didn't grind his gears right when you called him that, if his stiffed posture didn't indicate anything other than that.

"Alright let's just-" Yamaguchi began but Kageyama cut him off.

"But you're clearly the dumbass," Kageyama snuffed at you. By now, he had taken a couple steps closer to you so he could do some sort of intimidation stance to show off his height compared to yours.

You grabbed your forearm and began pushing up the already short sleeved shirt, "call me Sandy Cheeks because I'm about to karate chop your ass," you could hear Yamaguchi stifle a laugh to the side but no further fuss than that.

Kageyama couldn't have looked more disgruntled after you said that phrase. But instead he only mimicked your movements. You clearly took this as a threat.

So because of a tiny misunderstanding in communication, the ten year long feud between you and Kageyama raged without fail.

[][][

this is going to be one of my longer fics - as you can see it's got 3 parts

this is part 1, i wont be posting part 2 for a bit because im doing my first collab.

see you soon, im writing for futakuchi.

[babysizedfics]

Poor roman :( but that being said I am heka interested in 5

remus humiliates roman in front of jamal (but jamal is a sweetheart)

vote from this concept voting post!

TWs: swearing, emotional humiliation, arguing, remus is generally pretty mean in this - not "unsympathetic" but his behaviour is not ok, brief alcohol mention but it isnt a main feature

first some background info on remus and ro:

roman and remus' friend groups actually run parallel to each other by pure councidence in that theyre the same age and are both in the local queer scene

usually they only run into each other on nights out and avoid each other like the plague... until one of romans friends and one of remus' friends become a very serious couple and the friendship groups merge

remus tends to hang it over romans head whenever they argue or remus just feels like teasing him that he could so so easily spill romans secret littlespace to all his friends

and while roman claims to not care he also really doesnt want that to happen, especially the specific things remus threatens to reveal (namely him calling his cgs mommy and daddy, and his fear of the dark - which remus knows are romans biggest embarrassments)

and remus never USUALLY actually follows through on his threats, he loves to freak roman out but he doesnt mean to be intentionslly cruel.

but one night theyve had an argument recently and remus is out to hurt roman and finally follows through on his threat to reveal romans secrets. in front of jamal

((the actual incident below the cut))

all the friends are walking back from a night out, and remus hangs back from the group to talk to jamal. roman is just glaring at remus and not saying anything and holding jamals hand tightly. remus hasnt embarrassed him too bad so far, just asking jamal questions and referring to roman as his "baby brother" which is so annoying, but the thing is roman can tell hes building up to something

then suddenly remus smirks when he sees a completely pitch black side street thats theyre about to pass by, and he calls out to everyone "hey guys, there's a 24/7 mcdonalds through here and its a shortcut to the bus stop" and everyones like WOO mcdonalds and redirects to go down the side street

and romans heart pounds watching the friends all filter down the street without a second thought, theres no streetlights down there, theres light on the other side quite far away, but before that its SO DARK. and he freezes in place and jamal is tugged back by it and looks back at him. "babe, come on"

romans starting to feel shaky and he literally cant move his feet. his eyes flick between the street and remus' sadistic cocky smirk.

"whats wrong baby bro? you stuck or something?" remus leers with that stupid stupid smirk

and roman HATES him so so much

"ro, what's the matter?" jamal asks

"i- um," roman stutters, trying to keep his voice from shaking too much at the sight of his friends just having DISAPPEARED into the darkness - how are they okay with that?? "i- im not hungry"

"okay well i am, and remus said it was a shortcut anyway so-"

"i-i -- no i can't"

seraphina, romans best friend, looks back and notices whats happening and quickly jogs over (knowing roman is scared of the dark) "hey roma, it's okay we dont have to go down there" she soothes

jamal is supportive but he doesnt get it. he thinks roman is scared of criminals or smth. "i promise theres no one bad down there, hun. and i'll be right next to you the whole time, i'll protect you" and he smiles and tugs romans hand to pull him towards the side street

romans eyes quickly tear up and he panics and rambles "nononono dont please please i cant i cant" in a broken voice and plants his feet firmly on the ground, paralysed with fear

remus starts cackling "ohhhhh thats right~" as if he just remembered. "my baby brother's terrified of the dark, isn't he?"

"f*ck off, re" sera barks, standing between the twins, protective of roman

"wait, are you?" jamal asks sounding surprised. roman doesnt let himself look at him, too busy watching remus warily and knowing thats not all he has planned to embarrass roman

remus goes on, shouting out to jamal over sera's head "he's petrified!" he confirms sounding delighted. "yknow that massive blackout last summer? he cried like a baby. literally sobbing for his daddy patton to make it go away"

theres a brief silence because no, sera and jamal didnt expect remus to refer to patton as romans daddy - they both know roman calls him dad but this is a surprise.

and that one second of silence drags on for ages for roman, all he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears and remus' obnoxious laughter

he is shaking, frozen in shock rather than fear now. for all of remus' teasing threats at home, he didnt expect remus to actually do it. hes devastated and humiliated that remus told to his best friend and especially his BOYFRIEND of all ppl

and honestly he's not even thinking about the pitch black side street right now because the streetlights on the main road are blurred by tears welling in his eyes anyway

"why dont you just leave him alone!" sera hisses furiously after her mild shock

then jamal bounces back rlly stern to remus "yeah i already know about that! roman told me and it was HIS choice to tell me"

roman stares at him in disbelief but jamal is too busy staring daggers at remus to notice

remus looks suddenly offended and frowns. hes clearly hurt that the others dont think its funny "jeez youre both such bores. im just having some fun"

"youre demented if you think thats fun" seraphina growls and shoves remus away towards the sidestreet. remus rolls his eyes and runs ahead to join the others who are all oblivious to that coversation, howling with drunken laughter in the pitch black and jumping out and scaring each other

"f*cking prick" jamal calls after remus, seething

sera quickly throws a concerned look to roman "you okay?"

roman just swallows thickly and looks between seraphina and where he saw remus join the others in the pitch black. his stomach churns at the idea of remus telling more people. "i-is he gonna--"

"im on it" sera nods and starts turning around "i wont let him tell anyone else, roma, promise" then she runs ahead to keep an eye on remus and to give him and jamal some privacy

after a moment jamal turns back to roman looking so worried and holds his hands and asks very gently "babe, can you tell me how youre feeling?"

and roman is teary but he whispers "i - you stuck up for me"

jamal looks suddenly sad and cups romans cheek "of course i did"

"but you said i told you about it. i- i didnt tell you that i-" roman gulps after his voice wobbles "i didnt tell you about it"

and jamal smiles sadly and goes "i know babe... im sorry, i just didnt wanna give him any more power. it seemed like he's held that over you for a while"

suddenly the tears in romans eyes overspill and he doesnt really know why but he can't stop them

jama gasps a little "oh roman, its ok" and just pulls him into a tight hug

roman clings and sniffles, glad that he can hide his tears from his boyfriend even if it is in his neck.

and jamal just strokes his back and whispers "its ok baby, its ok" **

they talk about it quietly as they take the longer, well-lit route instead. roman admits he would never have told jamal abt his fear on his own - and the reason he's been avoiding staying overnight at jamals apartment is bc the one time he did he got so scared of the dark that he couldnt sleep and was just anxious all night but wouldnt wake jamal to tell him

after jamal finds out hes like baby why didnt u tell me its okay and comforts him about it not being embarrassing or childish. then:

"so you do actually want to stay at mine, its just because its so dark that you didnt?"

roman nods shyly "yeah... im sorry i know its a dumb fear i just-"

"its not dumb ro. i meant to say if it works for you, we could leave the hall light on and the door open. its not like i live with anyone who can walk in."

roman blinks "wait you - really? it wont make it hard for you to sleep?"

jamal smiles softly "no hun, honestly i could sleep anywhere. i fell asleep in the middle of the day in the staffroom just last month"

roman laughs, so so so relieved

"so... maybe next time you come over for dinner you could stay the night, yeah?" jamal says with a smile and a blush. he wraps his arm around romans waist and pulls him in, hip to hip

roman bites his lip and blushes. after a moment he suggests shyly "im free tonight..."

and jamal smiles so big, stops walking and puts his arm up to romans chest to stop him too then angles romans jaw down to kiss him

in the near future jamal promises to buy a plain nightlight and always leaves it on for roman when he stays overnight from then on

**side note: roman could never stand anyone calling him baby before because he felt infantilised at school becaus of his undiagnosed adhd. so he sees it as a derogatory name more than anything. but when jamal says it roman feels so warm and respected because he knows jamal would never mean it in that way. so jamal has "baby" rights basically

[lettheladylead]

so i just found a file i dont think i ever posted? it’s a second part to my Goldie Gets Amnesia story i did a little bit of a while back thatll probably never get written

anyway here enjoy

She was leaning against him - her entire body pressed up on his side. Scrooge was all too familiar with this move, which seemed to come to her as easily as remembering to breathe.

“Scrooge…” she breathed out, placing her palm onto the center of his chest.

“Goldie, I, um-” he stammered out his words, terribly embarrassed and not quite sure how to handle this situation. “We can’t, uh…”

Her head was tilted downwards and she looked up at him with a more gentle and pleading expression than he’d seen in years. “...you have feelings for me.”

It wasn’t a question. Scrooge turned his head away so he wasn’t looking into her eyes. “I...I do, yes.”

She reached up and tugged his face back towards hers. “And I have feelings for you.”

He gulped. His hands were twitching like he knew they needed to do something, but his heart was pumping and his mind was racing too fast to keep up. “Well-”

“I’m not asking,” Goldie said confidently as she scooted just a smidge closer. “I know the old me felt this way, too. I can tell.” She tilted her head upwards and pressed the top of her beak against the bottom of his.

Finally, one of Scrooge’s hands reached up and tugged her hand off of his face and out of his whiskers. “It’s not that simple.”

She huffed. “And what if I’m stuck like this, Scrooge? What if I never get my memories back?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If you never get your Goldie back? Am I not good enough?”

He frowned and glared at her. “You are getting your memories back, Goldie.” A pause as he considered his next words. “And you’ll...you’ve always been more than enough. It’s just not right. Not when you’re like this.”

Goldie felt her heart jump in her chest and frowned. “You can’t just assume everything will work out. I may not remember everything, but I know that things almost never go the way we want.”

Scrooge raised his head and stared at her. “Things didn’t always go the right way with us, but...but in the end, we always made it. Always.”

She decided to take this vulnerable moment and try her hand again - leaning even closer than before and laying her hand against his cheek once more. “If you’re so confident, then why not just be with me now?”

“You won’t appreciate it when you’re back to your old self.” Scrooge sighed out, but didn’t make a move to change their positioning again. He missed her. He missed her so, so much. “You and I haven’t...we haven’t been like this in a long time.”

“I was just being stubborn.” She leaned closer still.

“You don’t know that.” He didn’t move away.

“...I know.” She closed the gap between them and pressed her beak up against his - savoring the likely brief moment and enjoying it while she could.

It was a few moments before he pulled away - he was frowning and clearly mad, but he kept his forehead pressed gently against hers.

“Goldie Girl...I do want you. I’ll always want you.” He grabbed her hand again, this time holding onto it tightly in his own. “But I just...can’t.” In a move which he felt was against his better judgement, Scrooge finally separated from her and stood up to walk away. “I’m sorry.”

She glared at his feet as he stepped towards the door, not wanting to dignify his last words with a response. How could a man be so romantically charming and yet so frustrating dense at the same time?

Goldie turned and looked out the window on the opposite side of the room. Maybe she should take a page from her own book and just leave. Apparently he preferred the version of her that didn’t want to be around him.

She didn’t remember enough about their past to know why she kept leaving. Maybe he was a heartbreaker. Maybe she was just heartbroken. But this was a perfect way for them to start over and he was just passing it by for an opportunity to have her abandon him again. She tapped her fingers against her knees.

Clearly, she needed to learn more about herself. More than Scrooge could offer. Probably more than anyone in this mansion could offer. She needed to figure out where she was when she wasn’t here.

-

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17323205/chapters/123978319

[myfriendthedictionary]

so here's a tiny confession: so it's been established that a huge chunk of the wattblr people are musicians right? and yea that is made very much apparent to me whenever i see posts from wattblr people (and your responses to your asks) (especially patroc's asks and posts) mentioning um a lot of choir stuff, music stuff, time signature stuff, all the musical terms stuff yadda yadda. now as someone who has been gifted a piano when she was nine, has been in a lot of church music stuffs, and knows a bit (a very bit) more about music compared to most of my irl friends, i should be someone that actually comprehends whatever wattblr people keep saying when they talk about musical technical terms. but um yea whenever i see those posts (high emphasis on patroc's), my brain just freezes standstill and i mutter out loud "what in the fucking fuck am i fucking reading?"

(context: despite said church music stuffs and piano stuffs, i have never been professionally trained in music. everything i know is from me cutting corners to at the very least try to comprehend music sheets. i am completely self taught and i know nothing wooooo (my sister got a freaking tutor for playing guitar stuffs buT I was never able to even attend summer music classes cause my parents believed that i could teach myself and tHAT'S ON ✨ GIFTED KID SYNDROME✨ so yea i did end up teaching myself but everything i know is probably very wrong) and yea i don't know what time signatures mean so i feel very embarrassed for myself whenever i read your music-related asks cause i feel like i should kinda understand those but i genuinely don't which is kinda concerning cause I PLAY THE KEYBOARD FOR CRYING OUT LOUD (kinda, like i can learn a couple of songs given that there are youtube tutorials but i don't know the technical shit and all that) SO LIKE I SHOULD KNOW THOSE BUT NOPE I AM VERY CLUELESS WOO but i do plan on actually trying to properly learn music once school is over! i dunno how i'm gonna do that since well all i have is me teaching and info from youtube but eh worth a try i guess fjdjs so yea long story short: i know absolutely nothing and all of you guys intimidate me djsjf)

you are literally SO VALID !!!!!!!! like seriously you are so completely valid !! music is so scary and complicated and it makes me go. wait. wait do i know this. like literally every time i see anything haha,, i try to turn my intimidation into being super impressed by people who do know music but most of the time i am Just As Intimidated by the power of our watt mutuals lol! i promise that i am not someone to be intimidated by adkjas i know. nothing. i don’t know how to read sheet music and genuinely i dont think i even know the note pattern for the bass clef... up until like two years ago i didnt know. there was a difference. and i was at some point taking opera lessons so i . i dont know how i didnt learn- whoops!

but seriously, dude, like being self taught is literally??? so powerful???????? like you are selling yourself short !!! for one thing i’ve heard you sing and you’re like mega talented in that respect, but like?>???? teaching yourself how to play the keyboard????????? my dude, that is something to be so proud of !!! literally, like. the amount of skill that takes to figure things out and learn it on your own to be able to play anything at all is incredible !! technical stuff feels important, but don’t let what you haven’t learned yet detract from how cool it is you know what you do!!! 

in conclusion i feel you SO hard!! but confession time back. i very rarely understand most of what is happening or being sent musically (it took me 20 minutes to remember the word for a key signature the other day and then i literally just guessed b and somehow got it right hahah i genuinely didn’t even know that was how they worked-), i just enjoy talking to people about it akjdskas,, i am going to absorb music information through the wattblr if it is the Last thing i do. but make sure that you are not selling your abilities short !! you are clearly someone with a gift and passion for music, and that’s never something to underestimate !!! technical things can always be learned later, but being able to teach yourself anything at all is the coolest thing to me !!! seriously, i’m the one who is impressed / intimidated by that !! 

[normal-thoughts-official]

Ur post made me recall dia del niño and how It can be a huge deal in Mexico depending on where you live. Anyways Magnus believing it's a "celebrate your son day" because that's what he believes it is and every year on that date he either buys a gift for Raphael or invites him for dinner etc. And Raphael is endeared even though the day has always been intended for children, but he cant remember much when he was child or how his parents celebrated so he's secretly endeared when Magnus remembers.

okay so this ask shocked me because like, is día del niño not a thing in the US? because its huge in Brazil, everyone celebrates and gets all the children in their family gifts, schools have a special celebration for it, many many places have a special events schedule for it that lasts the whole month. and it's called dia mundial das crianças (world children's day. i mean we call it just dia das crianças/children's day for short but all official government stuff and etc says world children's day so i just assumed it was a thing everywhere?)

and so i looked it up and apparently día del niño is a thing in most if not all of Latin America, but every country celebrates it on a different date jdbdidndisnsi idk why but that's so funny to me, like. did we all separately decide that we should have a day to celebrate children? by accident? like

also why does Brazil calls it world children's day if it's the only country that celebrates it in october. what is going on. kdjdidndidndkdndkd

but anyway the point is, i love this hc and it's very sweet. like Magnus finds out about día del niño one day and he's like "why did you never tell me? we could have celebrated" and Raphael is like "uh-" and Magnus snaps his fingers and takes Raphael on an impromptu trip somewhere and treats him and Raphael just doesnt have the heart to tell him that its not what he thinks it is, because Magnus is all excited like "this is nice, we always gather on father's day but now we have two different days and i can treat you something nice and we can celebrate. you know i always want to treat my boy. why didnt you tell me? did you think i wouldnt want to celebrate? or- oh, do you not want to?"

and Raphael is like "no, no, its not that, i just. i guess it didnt cross my mind" and Magnus is like "trust you to want to celebrate me on father's day but not want me to celebrate you on sons' day. come on dear, i have something i want to show you"

so Raphael is not about to ruin this for Magnus when hes clearly excited about it and would probably feel rejected if Raphael didn't want to celebrate. so he rolls with it

and from then on its a tradition. like, every April 30th Magnus gets Raphael something or takes him somewhere. Magnus always tries very hard to clear his schedule for it like he does on Father's Day and it's very sweet. but sometimes when neither of them manages he'll just come by the dumort and bring him a little gift and tell him "feliz día del niño," and other latino vampires snicker at it because Raphael is 90 but Raphael shoots them dirty looks like "dont you DARE ruin this for him" so no one says anything rudndidndidndidndidndi

(he's teased mercilessly about it and everyone follows him around saying "feliz día del niño, Raphael" because they are ridiculous, but Raphael doesn't mind. later he tells them the full story and they think its cute. they still tease him though)

it's like, the most well-kept secret in the vampire/shadow world - no one is to tell Magnus Bane that día del niño is for small children. but eventually he finds out about it, after like, a really long time, when Raphael is over 100 already or something. Raphael went to ridiculous lengths over it too, like getting Madzie gifts secretly and telling her that she should never, ever tell Magnus about it. or Alec because Alec is a terrible liar. and he tells Cat the same too. every year. Cat is like "yes Raphael, i know, Ive known since the first year that Magnus got you a gift"

but it does reach his ears at some point and he's very embarrassed and it's super cute tbh and Alec laughs about it and makes fun of him and kisses his face because Magnus is so cute when he's flustered/embarrassed. and Alec tells him "dont worry too much, if Raphael didn't tell you about it, it's probably because he liked that you took him out to celebrate"

so they talk and Raphael is kinda like "i mean. well. i liked it" and he tells Magnus about the bits and pieces he remembers from when he was a kid, and about how he got Rosa a gift every year even after she was an adult just to tease her and tell her that she'd "always be his little sister". how it turned into a tradition of its own, and how it was nice to have it again with Magnus

so they keep celebrating it and every April 30th Magnus is still religiously at the dumort with a gift and a hug for Raphael and he tells him "feliz día del niño" and it's adorable and I'm melting tbh

[stilinskishit]

Too Long (A Stiles Stilinski Fanfic) - Chapter 3

**First couple of posts have a different title but I changed it because I didn’t like it :)**

Summary: Teen Wolf with a female main character alongside Scott and Stiles? Here it is. Ramie McCall is Scott’s twin sister and best friends with both her twin and Stiles. The trio’s friendship means the world to all three of them, so what happens when there are more than friend type of feelings present?

Tags: @multi-madison​

MASTERLIST

Chapter 3 - Batman

Ramie awoke Monday morning extremely confused. She was not in her bed and the alarm going off was not her usual phone alarm. After a second she realized she was in Stiles’ room and everything came flooding back to her. She and Stiles were studying the night before and then watched a movie, and she must have fallen asleep at some point. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Ramie to stay at the Stilinski’s, but Scott was usually there and they would sleep on the floor. Ramie reached over and grabbed Stiles’ phone, turning off the alarm. The boy was still sound asleep, his arm draped over her side and his head shoved into the back of her neck. She was glad he was asleep as she could feel how hot her face was. She wasn’t surprised the boy was a cuddler, but she never thought she would be the one he was cuddling. She regretfully moved away from him, sitting up and moving to edge of the bed, swinging her feet onto the floor.

“Morning,” She heard a rough voice behind her. Stiles was now awake as well, rubbing his eyes. Ramie pretended not to notice his morning voice. She couldn’t help but grin at how cute he looked. “You fell asleep during the movie and I didn’t want to wake you, I texted Scott so he knew you were here and wouldn’t freak out.”

“Sorry, I was exhausted,” Ramie turned away from him again, feeling embarrassed.

“No it’s fine!” Ramie could feel Stiles sit up quickly behind her.

“Stiles do you always wake up this late?” Ramie asked, rummaging through her bag to see if she had a sweatshirt or something she could put on so she wasn’t wearing the exact same clothes to school that she was wearing the day before.

“Late? This is early,” He groaned, pulling himself out of bed. “Do you need a shirt to wear or something?”

“If you don’t mind,” Ramie said sheepishly.

“Pick whatever,” He gestured to his closet. Ramie grabbed a green and black flannel from his closet and pulled it on over her t-shirt. Feeling eyes on her, she turned to Stiles who was still sitting on his bed, staring at her with a small smile on his face.

“What?” She asked. “Do I have bad bedhead or something?”

“No!” Stiles jumped off the bed, moving to his dresser and turning his back to her. “I was just thinking about something funny Scott said the other day.” Ramie narrowed her eyes at the back of his head and went over to the mirror on the back of his door. Her hair was fairly tame, and she had nothing on her face.

After rushing Stiles out the door, the two made it to school surprisingly on time. They met  up with Scott in the parking lot, as they usually did. He looked tense as he walked towards Ramie and Stiles.

“Why do you look… terrified,” Ramie asked when he got to them and they started walking towards the school.

“I had a weird dream…” Scott sighed. “I attacked Allison on a school bus and it felt so real.”

“But it was just a dream,” Ramie reassured him.

“So you killed her,” Stiles butted in, pulling open the door front door to the school, letting Scott and Ramie go before him. Ramie shot him a look and he shrugged.

“I don’t know, I just woke up,” Scott said, shrugging. “I was sweating and couldn’t breathe, it took me a few minutes to relax. I’ve never had a dream where I woke up like that before.”

“Really? I have,” Stiles said. “Usually ends a little differently.”

“Please, no,” Ramie shoved Stiles, pulling a disgusted face. “I slept in your bed last night, I don’t need that sort of information.” Scott met Ramie’s eyes with a slightly shocked look on his face. She looked away quickly, watching her feet as they walked.

“A. I meant I’ve never had a dream that felt that real, and B. Like Ramie said, never give me that much detail about you again,” Scott looked at Stiles. “Especially if my sister is sleeping in your bed.”

Stiles tripped over his own foot at Scott’s words and stumbled forward.

“We just fell asleep watching a movie,” Stiles rambled. Ramie kept her head at her feet. “I swear that’s it.”

“I’m just messing with you guys,” Scott chuckled, hitting Stiles on the arm. Ramie chuckled, it sounding far more nervous than she intended.

“I think I know what this is about,” Ramie said quickly, changing the subject.

“I know, I know, you think it has something to do with me and Allison,” Scott groaned, continuing to walk down the hall. “Like I’m going to rip her throat out or something.”

“No, never,” Stiles said, causing Scott to look over at him.

“No that’s exactly it,” Ramie said, Stiles nodding enthusiastically, his previous response clearly sarcastic. Scott gave them both a death glare. “Hey, I mean honestly Scott, you’re handling it pretty well.”

“Yeah, it’s not like there’s a book for you to read about how to use your wolf powers for good and to not rip out throats,” Stiles patted Scott on the shoulder.

“Maybe there’s not a book, but I could have a teacher,” Scott shrugged.

“What, Derek?” Ramie asked, and Stiles smacked Scott on the back of the head. “It seems you’ve forgotten we got his ass thrown in jail.”

“I know, I know,” Scott rubbed the back of his head. “It’s just that dream, it felt so real.”

“How real?” Stiles asked, just as he pushed opened the door into the back courtyard.

“Like it actually happened,” Scott said before running straight into Ramie who had stopped dead in her tracks. The trio looked up to see a school bus, completely destroyed and covered in blood at the back to the school.

“I think it did,” Stiles said, as Scott and Ramie stared at the bus in shock. Scott turned suddenly, running back in the school.

“God you’re stupid sometimes,” Ramie glared at Stiles before running after Scott. She heard him questioning her behind her but ignored him as she ran after Scott. “Scott, wait, I’m sure she’s fine, dont listen to Stiles. It’s just a coincidence.”

“Yeah, a coincidence,” Stiles butted in, suddenly next to them again. “A seriously amazing coincidence.”

“Stiles!” Ramie gave him a death glare and he opened his mouth but closed it again, putting his hands up defensively.

“Scott I’m sure she’s…” Ramie started as they turned a corner, Scott running straight into Allison, alive and well. “Right here. Hey, Allison.”

“Jesus, you scared me,” Allison put her hand on her chest, kneeling with Scott to pick up the things she dropped when Scott crashed into her.

“Told you she was fine,” Stiles said to Scott. It was Ramie’s turn to smack Stiles on the back of the head. Stiles scoffed at her, rubbing the back of head and turning, mumbling something before walking to class.

“Why wouldn’t I be fine?” Allison looked between the two siblings. Scott looked at Ramie, begging for her to say something.

“I just had a weird dream with you in it,” Ramie said. Scott nodded, giving her a small smile to thank her for saving his ass.

“You’ll have to tell me about it later,” Allison grinned, pecking Scott on the cheek before heading towards her class. Scott and Ramie followed in the direction that Stiles had before, the three of them having class together that period.

“So… nice shirt,” Scott said as they walked together. Ramie looked down at herself.

“I wear this t-shirt all the time… but thanks?” Ramie gave him a confused look.

“No I mean, the flannel,” Scott said, the corner of his mouth lifting a bit. “Looks like one Stiles just wore the other day.”

“Yeah, because it’s his. We woke up late and I needed something to wear,” Ramie said as casually as possible, not looking over to her brother because she could picture the look on his face.

“Wearing Stiles’ clothes after sleeping over at his house,” Scott muttered, and Ramie could hear the smirk in his voice. “Sleeping over in his bed, may I add.”

“Shut it Scott,” Ramie glared at him as they entered the classroom, keeping her head down to hide her face, as she knew her cheeks had to be bright red. She heard Scott laughing to himself as he sat down at the table next to the one Stiles was at, while Ramie sat down next to Stiles. Mr. Harris always made Scott and Stiles sit separately during class, but somehow Ramie and Stiles got away with sitting next to each other.

“Maybe Scott caught a rabbit or something,” Stiles said as Ramie sat down next to him, obviously still trying to piece together Scott’s dream.

“And did what?” Scott butted in from his table.

“Ate it?” Ramie peered around Stiles to grin at Scott.

“Raw?”

“No, you baked it over a campfire,” Stiles deadpanned. Scott glared at the two of them, Ramie covering her mouth so he couldn’t see her smile.

“Stilinski and McCalls,” Mr. Harris called out. “Class is starting. Maybe you three would benefit from some more distance.”

“I don’t think so,” Stiles shot back, shrugging. Harris gave Stiles a look that would burn him to death if his eyes were lasers. “Alright, going.” He groaned, moving across the room while Scott moved up a few tables.

“Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much for you,” Mr. Harris said, causing Stiles to let out a sarcastic laugh. As he sat down as his new seat, his eyes catching Ramie’s and he gave her a grin. Scott, who saw the exchange gave Ramie a knowing look when Stiles looked away, before turning back to the front of the class.

…

After it was found out that there was a bus driver nearly killed in the incident the night before, Scott turned to Derek to look for answers. He suggested that Scott go back to the crime scene and see what he could remember from that night, which is why Ramie found herself in the back seat of Stiles’ jeep late that night.

“You two stay here,” Scott said, moving towards the fence that surround the back parking lot of the school. “Someone needs to keep watch.”

“Ramie’s here, she can do it,” Stiles jabbed his thumb towards Ramie, who glared back at him. Stiles started to climb the fence.

“Stay here,” Scott grabbed Stiles’ arm, pulling him back downwards.

“How come it always feels like you’re Batman and I’m Robin,” Stiles said. “I’m always keeping watch.”

“If he’s Robin I don’t wanna know who I am,” Ramie sighed, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands.

“No one is Batman or Robin, or anyone,” Scott groaned. “Just stay here.”

“Oh my god, fine!” Stiles dramatically pushed off the fence, following Ramie who had already turned back to the jeep. Ramie hopped in the passenger side as Stiles sighed loudly, slamming his door and slouching down in his seat.

“Oh relax, Batman,” Ramie squeezed his shoulder. “You would’ve passed out with all that blood anyways.”

“I would not!” Stiles argued, and Ramie just grinned back. He rolled his eyes and huffed again, sinking back down in the seat. The two sat in silence for a few minutes.

“You wanna know something funny,” Ramie said suddenly, feeling brave. Stiles hummed in response, his eyes still glaring towards Scott on the bus. “The night Scott got bitten, I came home late, obviously, and my Mom thought you and I were hooking up or something. Crazy, right?” She gave a nervous laugh which she hoped didn’t actually sound nervous and glanced over at Stiles, whose head snapped towards her.

“Why’d she think that?” He sat up, a panicked look on his face.

“I dunno, I guess cause we spend a lot of time together or something,” Ramie shrugged, looking away from his gaze. She regretting bring it up. “But it’s crazy anyways, that she would think that. It would be so weird if we were anything other than friends.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said quietly. “You’re right it would.” Ramie glanced over at him. He was looking straight forward, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Usually she was good at reading him, but not now. Her chest felt tight at him agreeing with it being weird. She obviously, deep down didn’t think it would be weird at all.

“Wait,” Stiles shot up in his seat. “Raim do you see that?”

“Lights?” Ramie followed his gaze. What looked like flashlights were coming towards the bus that Scott was currently on. “Stiles, do something!” Stiles started honking his horn over and over, and a minute later Scott came sprinting back towards the jeep. Ramie dove in the back and Scott jumped in her spot a minute later, yelling at Stiles to drive. Stiles threw the car in reverse and sped out of the parking lot.

“Did it work?” Ramie leaned forward as soon as Stiles turned the jeep around, putting her head between the two boys in the front seat.

“Yeah, I was there last night, the blood on the bus, a lot of it was mine,” Scott huffed, out of breath.

“So you killed him?” Stiles asked.

“No, I think I was trying to save him. I saw glowing eyes, it must have been Derek,” Scott continued. Ramie’s eyes narrowed.

“Why would Derek want you to remember that he attacked the bus driver?” She asked.

“I don’t know, that’s the part I dont get,” Scott sighed.

“I bet it’s some wolf pack thing,” Stiles shrugged. “Ripping someone apart together, like hazing or something.”

“But he didn’t, do it, he’s not a killer,” Ramie chimed in.

“So I can go out with Allison,” Scott said, Ramie patted Scott on the shoulder and Stiles rolled his eyes.

“I was gonna say it means you won’t kill us, but that too I guess,” Stiles nodded.

“Oh yeah… that too.”

…

Ramie awoke a few nights later to a loud thud coming from Scott’s room. She checked her phone, it was only 11:30. Scott said he wouldn’t be back from his date with Allison til 1 or so. Ramie shot up out of bed, seeing a figure from across her room in Scotts room, the doors of the bathroom being left open. She grabbed the bat she had been keeping next to her bed and ran into Scott’s room, towards the figure crawling onto his bed but heard a familiar scream.

“Jesus!” Stiles jumped back onto Scott’s bed. Seconds later, Melissa came running into Scott’s room, also carrying a bat.

“What the hell? Stiles!” She groaned, dropping the bat to her side, while Ramie still had hers up in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing?” Stiles yelled. “What are you two doing with all these bats? Does anyone in this family play baseball?” The light flipped on and Scott was suddenly in the doorway, looking very confused.

“Scott, can you please tell your friend to use the front door,” Melissa said to her son.

“It was locked, he couldn’t get in,” Scott said. “He’s Ramona’s friend too.” Ramie glared at Scott for using her full name and putting the blame on her as well.

“I was asleep until I heard a crash,” She looked at her mother.

“Alright, well how about the fact that there’s a police enforced curfew right now and you both are out past that? Do either of you care?” Melissa looked between the two boys.

“No.” They both shrugged. Melissa sighed, throwing the bat onto Scott’s bed.

“You know what, I’m done parenting tonight,” She turned to leave. “Ramie’s in charge.” Ramie grinned and Stiles looked over at her, doing a double take. His gaze stayed on her for a second and he glanced down at her legs, which she noticed were completely bare. She was wearing a huge t-shirt to bed and very small shorts, and she just realized under his gaze that she looked like she wasn’t wearing pants. She tugged the sizes of her shirt down as far as she could. Her stomach flipped a bit, but she told herself Stiles was just being a typical teenage boy. Scott spoke, breaking Stiles’ gaze.

“So what’s up,” Scott pulled his desk chair over towards his bed, and closed his door. He sat down, facing Stiles.

“My Dad left for the hospital a bit ago,” Stiles looked between Ramie and Scott. Ramie leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, listening. “The bus driver, he succumbed to his wounds.”

“Succumed?” Scott breathed.

“It mean’s he died, Scott,” Ramie said quietly. Scott looked between her and Stiles, before getting up out of his chair, turning to leave.

“Wait where are you going?” Stiles followed him into the hall.

“Derek, I need to talk to him,” Scott said taking the stairs two at a time, Stiles and Ramie on his heels.

“Now?” Ramie called, Scott clearly ignoring her as he shoved on his shoes. Without another word he took off out the front door.

“So much for that curfew,” Ramie said, sitting on the stairs as Stiles watched him take off.

“Yeah, I guess I should get home before my Dad gets back,” Stiles glanced at Ramie, his eyes not meeting hers but not looking at her bottom half either. She felt very uncomfortable.

“Stay safe out there Stilinski,” She said from the stairs. He chuckled and shot her a small smile before heading out the front door. She turned to walk back upstairs and found her mother watching her from the top of the flight.

“What?” Ramie asked in regards to her mother’s gaze.

“Just wanted to see if there was any kissing going on down here,” She grinned. Ramie groaned loudly, moving past her mother with a glare and closed the door to her room, hearing her mother’s laugh from the hallway.

[emybain]

Speak Up

hiiiiii I dont like this fic but im posting anyway because im tired and my body is driving me nuts right now! maybe when I can think clearly again ill write another fic where nova and Adrian have a fight (or maybe ill just write it now sksksk) because this didn't turn out the way I wanted it to. I felt bad about just deleting it though so I figured I might as well post it,,,no harm in that other than my reputation

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

Nova draped an arm over her eyes, feeling a headache coming on. Well, she had a recurring headache just about every day so far that week, and it was only Tuesday. Already she was sick of them. They weren’t the only things she was sick of. 

    “Men are stupid,” Danna said from below Nova. She, Ruby, Danna, and Narcissa were all in Ruby’s room. It still felt weird for Nova to have girl acquaintances, dare she say friends, the same age as her after only having Ingrid and Honey for so many years down in the subway tunnels. “Why do you think I like girls?” 

    Nova and Danna were still on rocky terms, Danna being the only one left on Nova’s former team who hadn’t fully forgiven Nova yet. Nova didn’t blame her; she’d be stubborn to forgive herself as well after everything she put Danna through, as well as the others. Still, it could be frustrating at times when Nova stretched to be nice to the other girl and have it thrown back in her face with a snarky comment. At least now, Nova felt as if Danna was finally starting to accept Nova’s apology, and they could hold a civil conversation when left alone. 

    “Have you tried talking to him?” Ruby questioned, ignoring Danna’s comment. Nova rolled over onto her stomach to peek down at them from her spot on top of one of the twin’s beds. 

    “No.” Nova groaned, sitting up and draping her legs over the mini wall on the bunk bed, meant to keep someone from falling off in their sleep. “I don’t care to see him right now.”

    “Are you going to break up with him?” Narcissa eyed Nova over her book, a mischievous smile on her lips. Her head was resting on Danna’s lap. “That would be hilarious.” 

    Danna swatted at her lightly, affectionately, before going back to playing with her hair. The two had been dating for a few weeks now, and Nova was beginning to wonder if she and Adrian had been as disgustingly adorable when their relationship was official. 

    “No,” Nova said, almost too quickly. Danna snorted. “I don’t know. Is it something worth breaking up over?” She looked down at her hands, feeling her cheeks heat up. 

    Three months of bliss. Apparently, that was all the world wanted Nova to have before it slapped her in the face. It had been three months since the Supernova, and things with Adrian were going fine until last Saturday night when Nova had gone over to watch a movie. It had been a long day for both of them; along with the other Renegades, they were trying to install more independence among the citizens. Now that everyone in the world was a prodigy, more and more people were beginning to see that they didn’t need the Renegades to protect them and do everything for them, and the Renegades, much to Nova’s relief, believed the same thing. It was a lot of work, undoing the system the Renegades had crafted, but Nova enjoyed it. 

    Well, she enjoyed most of it, save the media attention she was getting. A lot of people didn’t know what to think of her, the girl who was one of the most wanted criminals in the city and who was now what they deemed a “good guy” that was dating Gatlon’s golden boy. They wanted to know more about her, and that meant having cameras and reporters constantly in her face whenever she left her apartment. Nova was sick of it, to say the least. And some magazines were starting to catch on, based off of what they were now writing about her and how she had a snippy attitude and a mean composure. Fine. Whatever. She didn’t need a couple of journalists defining who she was. 

    Adrian always tried to comfort her whenever a new story came out, but it never really worked. She could tell he felt bad for her, but what was he to do? He grew up in the spotlight. She grew up in the subway tunnels. He just...didn’t understand. 

    When she had been at his house the weekend before, they had been somewhat paying attention to the movie until Nova got up to use the bathroom. After she got out, Adrian was not on his couch anymore. Figuring he must’ve gone upstairs for more snacks, she had grabbed the empty popcorn bowl and headed up to help him out. But then she paused before she walked into the kitchen, hearing voices. It was a habit, something she needed to break, and she wouldn’t have kept eavesdropping if she hadn’t heard her name mentioned. 

    “...need to keep her in line for this interview, Adrian.” She had recognized Hugh’s voice immediately. Like with Danna, Nova and Adrian’s father had an awkward relationship. While he was surprisingly okay with her dating his son, Nova could tell he was still cautious around her, as if she might break at any moment if someone said the wrong thing. “You know how she gets sometimes, and we can’t have her saying too much.” His tone was light, joking. Nova grit her teeth all the same. 

    “Saying too much?” Nova had leaned in closer, pressing her ear against the door when she heard Adrian’s voice. 

    “He means something inappropriate or uncalled for.” She remembered deflating at Simon’s words; she had thought that between Adrian’s parents, Simon was actually warming up to her. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. “She wasn’t exactly raised in a proper environment and doesn’t know proper manners. You know we like Nova, but once she opens her mouth…” 

    This conversation kept going for a few minutes, and with every second that passed, the sour taste on Nova’s tongue got stronger and stronger. Nova and Sketch’s team had an interview with a major television show in a few weeks that Nova was not looking forward to, but was doing it for Adrian’s sake. It would be their first appearance on a larger platform other than newspapers and magazines following the Supernova, and Nova’s first serious interview. Bleh. Hugh and Simon must’ve been referring to the recent news about her; why else would they have a private conversation with their son? She wasn’t so much as annoyed at the fact that they spoke of her like she was a brash child. No, what hurt was the fact that in the few minutes Nova listened to the conversation, not once did she hear Adrian speak up for her. 

    “Well, what did he say when you found out?” Nova jolted her head up, blinking at Ruby as her mind shifted back to the present. 

    Nova shrugged. “I walked into the kitchen and told him I had to go. I was already out the door before he could say anything.” She let out a slow sigh. “I’m just upset that he didn’t even defend me. I don’t give a rat’s ass what Simon or Hugh think of me, but isn’t Adrian supposed to be on my side for things like this?” She truly felt stupid for having this conversation. Silly, even. Her problems weren’t supposed to be about trivial things like this. Never in her nearly seventeen years of life would Nova had thought that she would ever have girl talk with girls her age, either. It was all just ridiculous.  

    “His parents insulting you based on a bias?” Ruby scrunched her nose up. “Yeah. He should’ve said something, but have you considered the possibility that maybe he didn’t get the chance?”

    Nova picked at her cuticles; it was a new bad habit she got herself into when she was stressed. “I listened to their conversation for a good five minutes. Adrian had plenty of time to interrupt them.” 

    The room was silent for a few minutes. Outside the door, Nova could hear Ruby’s brothers horse-playing. She could smell whatever meal her mom was making for dinner. 

“Well, Nova,” Danna reclined back to rest against the wall, “I’ve known Adrian longer than Ruby, but I think we both know that Adrian would never hurt you on purpose or go behind your back. We’ve seen the way he looks at you, and while it makes me gag,” the edges of her lips curled up, “he’s afraid of losing you.”

“What are you saying? That I should just forget about it and move on?” Nova huffed, crossing her arms. 

“At least go talk to him. Explain why you’re hurt. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Nova wished it were that simple.

__________

    It was Thursday morning, and Nova had yet to take Danna’s advice. She didn’t want to admit it out loud, but she was nervous at the thought of confronting her boyfriend. What if she had overreacted and he now thought she was being irrational? What if she had waited too long and now Adrian didn’t want to see her? 

    She tried to block out her negative thoughts in the Training Hall with Ruby, where she had suggested they work out together that morning. Now, mid morning, they were running laps around the track. Nova was finally beginning to get lost in her element when she noticed two people walking towards them. Oscar and Adrian.

    From beside her, Ruby placed a hand on Nova’s arm and slowed both of them down. She waved at the two boys, a bright smile lighting up her face at the sight of her boyfriend. Nova’s eyes widened, and she pried Ruby’s fingers off of her. 

    “What?” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “I thought you made up with him already.” When Nova shook her head, lips pressed tightly together, Ruby rolled her eyes. “Well, now’s the time to do it. Come on.” With no other way out, Nova let Ruby lead her off the track to meet the boys. Adrian eyed her cautiously, to which she responded with a glare. He averted his gaze immediately, clearly embarrassed, but it didn’t stop him from glancing over her body. She crossed her arms over her chest, suddenly self conscious about the fact that she had discarded her shirt earlier and was now left in only a sports bra and leggings, both drenched in sweat. She looked disgusting to say the least, and it wasn’t how she wanted Adrian seeing her. Not that she cared, of course. 

    Ruby greeted Oscar with a hug, and he pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Oh, I completely forgot to mention this.” Ruby turned back to Nova and hit the palm of her hand to her forehead softly. “Oscar and I made plans for brunch today. Do you guys want to join?” 

    Nova plastered a thin smile to her lips, answering for herself and Adrian before he could even open his mouth. “No, thank you. I want to get in a few more miles before leaving. You guys have fun, though.” 

    Ruby narrowed her eyes at Nova, as if she was saying “Really?” but Nova pretended she didn’t see it. She waved goodbye to the two of them and turned around, starting up her jog again. She ran for a good twenty feet before she heard Adrian’s voice from behind her, getting louder. 

    “Nova! Hey, wait up!”

    Groaning, Nova stopped again. She wasn’t going to get out of this, obviously, so she waited for Adrian to catch up to her until she spoke. “What?”

    He flinched at the harsh tone in her voice, the movement so subtle Nova almost missed it. She bit the inside of her cheek. “You haven’t been answering my messages.” It was true; she hadn’t been. He had sent a few since Saturday, but Nova hadn’t bothered checking to see what they said. She had been too frustrated to care about his apologies. 

    “I’ve been busy,” she replied, pursing her lips. “Sorry that I don’t have proper etiquette in communication. It was how I was raised, you know.” 

Adrian squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them back up. “Listen, about Saturday, can you please let me explain?” 

Nova stepped off the track so that she wouldn’t be in the way of other runners. “Explain what? Because from my understanding, you let your dads insult the only family I knew for ten years. No, they weren’t perfect,” she let out a harsh laugh, “but they tried. Honey and Leroy and Winston, at least. Ingrid at times when she was in a good mood.”

“Were you seriously that offended?” Adrian took a step back. “Because they manipulated you, Nova. I understand that Leroy is a better person now, but for the rest of them, well,” he shook his head, “I’m not even going to say anything.”

“Just like on Saturday?” She cocked her head to the side. “I don’t give a shit what your dads think of me, okay, Everhart? I do care about what you think of me, though, and if you see me as some uncontrollable toddler who can’t keep her mouth shut like Hugh does, then why are we even together?” The last bit stung her as much as Adrian. Once the words left her mouth, she instantly regretted them, but it was too late now. So she huffed and looked up at him expectantly. 

Nova noticed how people slowed their stride when they passed by the arguing couple, eager for whatever gossip they could get. No doubt word would get out to the press, and Nova’s mood would sour more. 

“Nova, you know I don’t think of you like that, not even in the slightest.” He reached a hand forward, placing it on her arm. She shrugged it off. 

“Then why,” she asked quietly, looking down, “didn’t you defend me? I sat there for five minutes listening to your dads talk to you, and not once did you speak up. Are you afraid that I’m going to embarrass you in front of the entire world? Because I’m not a perfect little doll and that I come from what many people see as garbage? 

“Of course not!” Adrian cried out, drawing more attention to them. He glanced around before lowering his voice. “No, Nova, you’re right. I...I should’ve said something. I wasn’t comfortable with what they were telling me but I kept my mouth shut anyway. I guess I’m just...trying to stay on their good side? Ever since they found out about the Sentinel, things haven’t been the same around the house. But that’s no excuse. You’re my girlfriend and one of the people I care the most about.”

Nova’s shoulders relaxed, but only slightly. She hadn’t really noticed how things may have changed around the Everhart-Westwood household, but she wouldn’t be surprised if they had.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Adrian murmured, daring to reach out again and pull her closer by her hips. Nerves spiked through her body at the nickname; he had used it a few times before, teasingly, because he knew it annoyed her. What he didn’t know was the effect it had on her, despite her holding a grudge against it.  “I was an idiot.”

Nova’s leg bounced nervously, her eyes not meeting Adrian’s. How could she stay upset with him? She knew he was actually sorry and not just saying it to appease her; that’s just how Adrian was. 

“I accept your apology.” She sighed, placing a hand on his outstretched arm. “I’m sorry too...for overreacting. I just…” She peeked up at him. “Sometimes these articles get to me, you know? They put it in my head that I’m not good enough for you because of who I am and where I came from, and then I have to hear the same things from your dads, and I was hurt that you said nothing. I-I know that I can act without thinking sometimes, and say things that I don’t mean, but I can’t stand other people berating me for it.”

Adrian took both of her hands and laced their fingers together. “Those articles are full of bullshit. Nova, one of the things that I love most about you is that you’re not afraid to speak your mind and you’re not afraid to act on something immediately. Your stubbornness and bold composure make you you.” His lips quirked up. “Not to mention, it’s kind of hot.”

Nova had to laugh at that, her first real smile in days breaking out on her face. “Thank you,” she mumbled. 

“No more secrets anymore, right?” He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Please come to me sooner when I make a mistake so we can talk about it. I can’t stand you being upset with me.” 

“Okay.” Nova nodded, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck to hug him. “Just as long as you do the same. Going five days without you has sucked ass.”

“It’s a deal.”

[xiuhnny]

a montage of love / mark lee

genre: college!au, acquaintances to lovers!au, slow burn, fluff, a lot more angst than anticipated

pairing: mark lee/female reader

word count: 26.5k jesus christ

warning: alcohol and drug abuse, explicit language, suggestiveness, a bit of heart-wrenching angst

summary: High school was a time in your life you didn’t like to think about, especially when the present days were the best ones you had ever lived. But when Mark Lee shows up in the form of blast from the past, you’re left with emotions you never planned on experiencing.

author’s note: i’ve been working on this for almost a year. amid the mess that is my life, i poured my heart and soul into this project, which is the first official piece of writing i do for the kpop community. it has taken longer than i expected, and i apologise to everyone who had been waiting for this to be published since i posted the preview quite some time ago. however, it is here! i’ll never be the person who can put out a short story because my need to go into fully specific details about every single thing is stronger than anything else. pleathe be mindful of the fact that this is fiction and i dont think any character in this work resembles their real life counterpart besides their physical appearance. also, i’m aware that i mix british terms with american ones, mind you that i’m neither so bear with me for a sec lol

High school was a time you weren’t particularly fond of. 

It was just a clustered mess of stillness-infused events happening one after the other, never having anything really good coming out of it. It was either neutral or downright disastrous and embarrassing, so sometimes you pretended it either didn’t exist or it was a foggy, distant memory in the back of your mind. 

Everything had been just plain, normal, detached, never good enough to think of it fondly.

You supposed being the new kid was probably one of the causes that made your attempts at fitting in with the others fail miserably. The people you hung out with were the type of people you knew your friendship wouldn’t stretch further than the last day of high school: you relied on each other for convenience. That didn’t hurt you at all because it was something you did too. And it wasn’t like you were the best version of yourself back then. 

The best came when you entered college.

The college you was the person you had always dreamed to be. Liked by people who genuinely cared for you and your wellbeing, with whom you shared good and bad moments. Carefree in the sense that you were no longer afraid of sharing your opinions and being yourself yet carrying all the same struggles every other college student did. This was your peak. You were at the top of your game in every aspect possible. And even if you were still flawed, like you would always be, the life you lead was still worth it.

However, not everyone shared the same path as you. Some people just had it all since the beginning: they were consistent in the way they presented themselves to other people throughout the years, and consequently that in itself appeased the masses no matter the environment they inserted themselves into. It didn’t help at all if they were truly nice people, which was the case.

You weren’t sure why the fact that Mark Lee was as loved — if not even more — in college as he was in high school surprised you, but the truth was, it did. 

Going through a blast from the past was something you were expecting, seeing people from your old school navigating through the halls of a place you really liked became second nature. You saw Sicheng every once in a while, the Chinese guy you had to become acquainted because both of you had transferred to your high school closely after each other. You saw Dahyun who was from your Math class though you never really made an effort to be friends, neither did she. You saw a variety of faces with whom you had shared tiny speckles of basic interaction.

But Mark Lee wasn’t just any person. 

Mark Lee was the cool guy who looked like he had everything without even trying or working hard for it. He had reliable friends, good looks, good grades, recognition and respect from pretty much everyone surrounding him. You were sure there wasn’t a soul capable of hating or so much as even having hard or negative feelings towards him. And rightfully so, for while Mark looked like someone who breezed through life without a scratch, he was severely passionate and strived hard for good results on whatever he put his mind in to. To top it off, he had luck on his side.

You couldn’t hate the guy, you’d give him that. He was too much of a good person.

It was nearly the end of the first semester of your second year of college when you saw him for the first time after you had ended your senior year of high school. With Mark being younger than you by one year, you had been swept away out of that hellhole before him. But as luck would have it, you were back to sharing an education facility. Not that it bothered you that much, except you had to be shocked not only by his presence, yet also by the happenstance he was talking to one of your best friends with whom you were supposed to meet up fifteen minutes ago.

You were the one who was late, of course. So many years had gone by and you still weren’t able to be on time whatever the circumstance was. And when you tried to be responsible and leave your dorm early, the universe seemed to be against you. It remained a mystery why public transportation would fail you on only those specific times. 

At that moment, being late was the least of your worries, because there, in front of you, stood two people who represented completely different times of your life colliding with one another, while you watched in the sidelines and wondered why something like this was even happening to you.

 It truly felt weird to you seeing the out-of-reach Mark interacting with completely-approachable Jungwoo. 

Pursuing a friendship with one of the school’s most popular people did not charm you in any way back then. You thought about it sometimes, what would happen if you were to befriend Mark, or his best friends Donghyuck and Yeri, but reality brought you back before your imagination pulled you in too deeply. Besides that, you were never interested enough in that kind of people, the ones who seemed like they were known by everyone and their mothers. The difference between you and them was ghastly, bound to never work out.

“___!” A voice shook you out of your memory lane themed thoughts, your eyes blinking into focus to the image of the two boys now looking at you, one with sheer happiness to see you and the other surprised. For what reason you couldn’t decipher why. He had always been like that. Not that you had paid Mark Lee too much attention in high school. It was just inevitable once in a while to look over to where he was sitting and analyse his behaviour for a tiny bit. You had that habit.

“Hey, Zeus,” You smiled softly, “Sorry for making you wait. Traffic sucked balls.”

Jungwoo rolls his eyes, clearly sensing your politeness had a reason. You had stopped apologising for being late after the first ten times. “Don’t even bother, you talk like I’m not used to it. Oh!” He seems to remember something by the way his eyes jump a little, and then he looks to his left where Mark Lee is, for a fraction of a second before looking back at you again, “That’s right. How rude of me. Remember that guy I told you about named Lucas? The one who is Kun’s cousin?”

“Tall, loud boy?” 

“That’s the one.” He grinned, “This is his friend, Mark. We’re heading together to Lucas’s. They invited me over for a game night! How cool is that, uh?”

“Very.” You deadpanned, completely averting the fact Jungwoo was introducing Mark to you. He would have a field day if he knew you knew who Mark was. Because there was no way in hell Mark would know who you were. Moreover, you couldn’t believe he asked you to meet up just because of a measly textbook which you could have handed to him another time. You were still going to meet up with other friends, but the fact you had to take a last-minute detour when you were already late to your original plans stung just a bit. “Here’s the book, by the way.”

“Thanks, you’re a gem.” The sad thing about your best friend was that he knew you couldn’t resist how cute he acted. It worked every single time, including this one. “Why don’t you come over too? If Mark doesn’t mind, that is.”

Mark immediately becomes flustered, eyes widening as if he’d just heard wrong, but you beat him before he can even utter a word in response, which could destroy your nonchalant façade, “Thanks, but I already have plans. The girls and I are actually sleeping over at Eunwoo’s today, and we’re going to the movies in about…” You take your phone out of your pocket to check, the numbers that stared back at you zipping you back into full awareness that you should probably leave if you wanted to make it on time. “Half an hour. We’re watching Venom.” There’s a strange heaviness in your chest making it hard for you to breathe. Being the centre of Mark’s attention felt so alien to you, so unreal and wildly unimaginable. “And I’m sure Lucas and his friend wouldn’t really be comfortable with having a stranger in their home.” You laugh at the end to soften the truth behind your words. 

As fun as it is meeting new people, bringing them unannounced in the last minute was never recommended, and it could seriously deflate the comfort in those who were present. Jungwoo had good intentions, but that’s all it was.

(You’re not a stranger, Mark thinks, I’ve had a crush on you for embarrassingly too long.)

“That’s a pity, really.” Your best friend pouts adorably, and you chastise yourself inwardly before you changed your mind, “Let’s set up something as soon as possible, though. I feel like we all will get along well if we get the chance.”

His determined enthusiasm was cute, almost contagious if you willed yourself to let your guard down. You’d let him get away with it this one time.

“Of course! Just let us know when and where, and we’ll be there.”

Mark goes back to looking like he could be feeling every type of emotion possible, chewing on his lip with his eyes unreadably stoic, and the three of you part ways at the school’s garden but not without the thought of how well Mark had grown between the last time you saw him and now infiltrating and contaminating your brain. 

Turned out Jungwoo’s ASAP was earlier than you would have ever imagined. 

Actually, if things had gone according to the way you had planned, he would forget about the whole ordeal and you would go on with your merry little way without any unfortunate recollection lurking around and probing into your life. You truly didn’t feel the need to meet many new people; everything was already perfect as it was, so why would you even ask for more?

Clearly, your best friend thought otherwise, seeing how seriously he had taken those words, and in the following week, prompted everyone to hang out at his place a Thursday night after classes ended. Much to your surprise, most of your friends seemed okay with it.

Vernon and Kino were just ecstatic over the prospect of meeting and chilling with new people since their social circle was always willing to expand no matter who tried to come in. Eunseo already spent most of her time in Jungwoo’s house to load off of his Netflix subscription and free food so having three or four more people coming over didn’t bother her at all as long as she had her spot on the couch. Yeeun and Eunwoo seized every moment Eunseo wasn’t home to suck each other’s faces off and do God knows what.

And you… Well. You wouldn’t normally mind under other circumstances, really. It wasn’t like you were actively seeking other friendships per se, but you also didn’t avoid them. So you decided that you weren’t going to scheme your way out of a meeting where half of the people there were people you cared about. Mark made you feel a tad uncomfortable because he was someone you had never thought of interacting so closely with — and by interacting you meant standing within a few metres radius while you looked at Jungwoo’s totally unnecessary yet nonetheless appreciated large 4K TV. 

What were you supposed to do? Confide in someone about it?

It felt overall illogical to tell one of your best friends about the issue, especially when you knew they would say you were blowing things out of proportion. You could already imagine Eunseo saying something along the lines of ‘High school is shitty for everyone’ and Kino agreeing with a stern look that totally said ‘Just because you had a hard time it doesn’t mean you can project those feelings onto people who don’t deserve it’ because Kino was just the kind of introspective person who would lecture you about how to detach yourself from the problematic behavioural ways you possessed. And you would do nothing but stay quiet, because the truth was, whatever words they deemed fit to tell you were going to be true. Furthermore, you knew you had no reasonable explanation as to why you clamped shut every time someone from your past popped up in your line of view. It just happened. Like the invisible string you had around you tightened every single time, and stupidly, you just let it happen. It was wearing you out little by little.

So for today, you were going to suck it up a little for everyone’s sake and relax around a person whose presence felt so foreign and unreal.

The walk to Jungwoo’s was filled with a 00’s hits playlist blasting through your earpods as a way to let yourself loose and calm down your stupid nerves, your steps matching the beat of whichever song came on shuffle. This whole situation was affecting you so absurdly that for the first time in a really long time you had left the confines of your dorm room earlier than you were used to, so you could get to your destination on time, if not before what had been scheduled. Arriving late meant everyone’s attention would be on you as you awkwardly waved to everyone, and you weren’t really in the mood to be the centre of attention to people you weren’t close to. You would fling yourself from the nearest window if you had to go through what happened when you saw Mark, having his gaze burn uncomfortable holes along every single visible surface of your body. Being fashionably late was not on your plans. Not today.

“Uh,” You should’ve guessed Jungwoo was going to be confused when he saw you standing on the other side of his front door at 19:45, your backpack slung over your shoulders and your university hoodie almost covering you entirely because of how large it was, “___… You’re early.”

You snort, “Yeah, I like to keep you guys on your feet from time to time so you never underestimate me.”

He lets you in with a scratch on the nape of his neck, and when you glance around expecting to see the entire expanse of his lengthy living room littered with known and unknown faces, you’re faced with only Eunseo sitting on the sofa with her computer perched on her crossed legs, face too close to the screen as she typed away.

“Wait,” You frown, craning your neck so his kitchen was visible to you, “Why isn’t everyone here? Am I too early?”

Eunseo suddenly chokes, looking up from the screen, “___! What are you doing here?”

“Don’t tell me you guys…” Trailing off your words, you begin glaring at your friends with a hand perched on your hip indignantly, “You guys… Wow! What time did you guys plan with the others? Let me guess—”

“Before you strangle me to death,” Jungwoo raises his hands over his shoulders in surrender, “We never thought you’d be here so early!”

“I don’t even remember the last time you were on time, ___,” Eunseo is pouting exaggeratedly, pleading her case alongside the other traitor in the room, “We just didn’t want the other dudes to have that first impression of you.”

As much as it pained you to confess, they had a point. If you were planning on actually appearing somewhat likable to these other people you didn’t know, several measures had to be taken. Even if deep down you felt stingy about it — about how your mind seemed to only focus on the fact that they probably had done something like that several times — you understood it. Time was precious, and some could even interpret your lateness as valuing your time more preciously than theirs, which wasn’t really the case because you never did it maliciously. It truly felt like it was apart of your nature, being like that.

“I thought it was one fake bitch in this house, but there’s two.” You sniffle dramatically before going into the kitchen to fetch food to eat in the meantime.

Jungwoo fist-bumped the air in victory. Something was up, he was pretty sure.

Until now things had been going amazingly well, as always. Having Kino, Jungwoo, Vernon, and Eunseo together inside the same place was as familiar to you as the way you recognised yourself in the mirror, so the inside jokes and jabs you threw at everyone were comfortable, homely even.

You were peeking into Eunseo’s laptop with your head against her shoulder, your glasses perched on the bridge of your nose to top off your lazy outfit of the day as you proofread the essay she had been working on for the past three days when the doorbell rang and your attention diverted. 

It was incredible how you heard Loud Boy before you could even see him or whoever was accompanying him. A cacophonous, high-pitched symphony of unintelligible screams filled the whole vicinity, Jungwoo’s softer voice practically muffled underneath it all.

“Well,” Eunseo closed the lid of her laptop before putting it back inside her bag, shrugging, “I was expecting this.”

“I don’t even know why you brought it with you, this is supposed to be a chill night,” Vernon quipped from his spot on the floor, the deafening sound coming closer and closer until it was blaring ridiculously loud in your eyes, “Oh, there they are!”

You weren’t sure why you were expecting not to see Mark amongst the other two unknown faces, yet alas, there he was indeed. Looking like a Sim waiting for instructions, stoic with his bugged-out eyes absorbing his surroundings until they land on you. And then he just observes you like he’s trying to make a point you’re unaware of coming across, just until the messy reunion between the other guys dies down. An intense stare-down between the both of you that ends with you averting your gaze not even five seconds later because you’re a little bitch when it comes to eye contact. You swore you would rather gauge your eyeballs out rather than stare at someone for a really long time, and if that someone was Mark Lee, even five seconds was too long.

Lucas, the boy you had coined as Loud Boy, was just as handsome as he was extroverted. The way he carried himself and the atmosphere around him left you with a good impression of him, just like the other boy who was next to him. Minhyuk — “Call me Rocky,” he said, like the discrepancy between his real name and his nickname wasn’t that big — looked like he was a fun person to be around by the way he reacted pertinently to everything that happened. Mark, however, waved at both of you and Eunseo with what looked like a strained, forced smile, a stark contrast to the ease he seemed to exude when he did those weird handshake guys always did, despite the fact it was the first time he had interacted with either Kino or Vernon.

The way Eunseo gripped your hand tightly against hers when the boys fell into a never-ending conversation about the most recent PlayStation 4 games was a foreteller that tonight was going to drag through painfully slow, the emerging testosterone spreading through the air as the themes of their talk rarely strayed too far from gaming. Which wasn’t normally something you would find so boring if it was just your group of friends talking about it. Because Eunseo and you also played, avidly, as a matter of fact, so the fact your friends were getting lost in the hype of having new gaming buddies was reason enough to put a damper on your mood.

You had her there, though, and that was more than enough for you. These kinds of situations never failed to leave you unsure how to act, afraid of looking like an antisocial snob who looked down on others. Together, the both of you looked the way you felt, a bit ostracised and uncomfortable with the undesired and unintentional division between gender, but you accepted it begrudgingly like the other things that had happened so far.

Half an hour into their bickering and fooling around you decide to go somewhere else within the house, dragging Eunseo with you, and it’s the lack of shuffling behind him that alerts Mark of what’s going on in the back scene. It’s then that it clicks — you. You were still there, alongside your friend sitting on the sofa while the rest of them laughed and talked without even thinking about how you must have been feeling. His chest suddenly feels heavy with guilt, mind flashing back to the way the hem of your sweatshirt almost touches your knees and how much he wanted to roll your sleeves.

He’s reminded of past times, times where you were both just a little younger and surrounded by a completely different group of people, but he thinks the way he looked at you back then hadn’t changed at all in comparison to the way he looked at you now. Like he wants to get to know you so much it strangely makes his heartache from time to time. Like he can’t find a way inside your world when he had been given the chance to see you again after two years of desperately agonising over whether he should send you a friend request on Facebook or not. Yet there he was now, just a breath and a half away from speaking to you and just like the God damned fool he was, Fortnite, of all things, cockblocked him into getting distracted by a conversation which he couldn’t get back on the groove because of how truly shitty he felt. 

“Uh,” He clears his throat, “I think we forgot about…”

“Shit,” Vernon says, and Jungwoo flings his head back to the now empty space on his sofa, eyes widening to the point of almost looking like an exaggerated animation. 

Lucas is shrugging indifferently, “They probably went to drink some water or something like that,” And then he’s back to telling the rest of the story he had been telling before Mark interrupted the flow. That doesn’t deter Jungwoo, who gets up from his spot and goes through the same path you had gone a few minutes before. 

“They were sleeping,” He announces when he comes back, “Said we should catch up while we’re at it, and to wake them when we decide to be… inclusive.”

Kino hisses, his face contorting a little at the blow, “That’s something ___ would say.”

“That’s because it was her who said it,” Jungwoo snorts. Mark feels a pang in his chest at your choice of words: they were words said to cause an impact, to bring awareness, to hurt those who were inconsiderate. You didn’t like these type of things, and now he was not even in the mood to be roped back into a setting where he knew it left you uncomfortable.

“Let’s just play two or three rounds, and then let’s watch the movie,” Lucas suggests, still trying to revive the situation.

“It’s not cool to leave them out,” Mark frowns, and he means it. There were many instances in the past where he really wanted to find a way to bring you into his circle of friends, maybe befriend one of your friends just so he could have you around, but as good he was in some things, Mark was disgraceful in everything related to crushing on someone else. He knew he would make a fool of himself, akin to everything he had done ever since he saw you last week. The closest he had been to you before had been in the cafeteria line, and even then he was cockblocked; you looked at him briefly in the eyes and trapped him there, and when he was ready to smile at you, a sign of friendliness which he hoped was inviting, one of his friends calls him and that bubble involving you two was burst just as quickly as it was formed.

That had happened the last days of his junior year, your senior year. And that was the last time he physically saw you. Until last week, what he considered destiny brought you two together. Or Jungwoo brought you two together. He supposed Jungwoo would be absolutely elated if he knew the extent of his thoughts concerning his best friend.

“Yeah guys,” Mark hasn’t known Kino for that long, but he just knew the guy had a serious and righteous aura surrounding him like a superhero cape. “Let’s keep the game talk for another time. This is a movie night for a reason.”

No one seemed bothered about it, as if the original plans weren’t watching a movie, and Jungwoo once again took it upon himself to go call you and your friend, disappearing once again from their eyes, and then returning some minutes later with a very grumpy looking you with said friend rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“This better be good if you felt so compelled to wake us up,” You huff, pushing the bunched up sleeves of your hoodie over your fingers, and Jungwoo pouts from beside you before throwing his arms over your shoulders. He’s hugging you close to his body and you don’t seem uncomfortable by that: you’re neither recoiling in his arms nor freezing, you just roll your eyes at his antics and even go the extra mile to hold the hand that’s dangling pretty close to your chest. Rub your thumb against it. Lead him to somewhere on the sofa where he leans against your chest so freely it stings Mark’s heart for a moment.

He’s unsure of what to make of this. When he saw you last week, Jungwoo didn’t really make an effort to introduce you to him at all. He didn’t say you were his girlfriend, but he also didn’t say you were just his friend. He’s pretty sure the way he’s looking at you both is obvious, because Vernon nudges his shoulder to catch his attention, and whispers, “It might look weird, but they’re friends.” And just then, your other friend — Eunseo? Eunhee? — sits down and cuddles right against Jungwoo, the three of you doing this really strange yet endearing three-way spooning Mark could never think of doing. 

The mood is somehow better now, he thinks. You are all watching Coraline — your choice, because ‘it’s only fair we choose it’ — and Mark’s friends don’t seem bothered by it, neither do yours. Maybe it’s an occasional reoccurrence of yours, watching animated movies, or maybe it was just pure coincidence, but Mark is storing all of this information inside his brain greedily like a man starving for life, because it’s information concerning you, and he’ll take whatever he can get if it means it lets him get a small glimpse of who you really are. He had always doubted you were that quiet and neutral.

When the movie ends, almost everyone is sleeping. Lucas was knocked out cold against Rocky halfway through, and little by little eyes start closing and fights are lost against tiredness. The only exception to this is, of course, you. You’re still awake, looking at the TV screen with the palm of your hand propped against your cheek, squishing it so cutely Mark has a hard time concentrating on anything else. It’s stupid, he thinks, how you’re somewhat of a badass — or at least that’s the way he sees you — yet you’re still very capable of melting his heart to a dripping mess without even meaning it. It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose, to appease him or something of the sort; you’re just… Being you. Minding your business. And he likes that a lot already. He wonders how he would react if you ever directed your energy towards him to offer him a smile, or caress the back of his hand, or even hug him. He’d combust on the spot.

 But you’re not even giving him the time of your day, and for now, he’ll take that. You probably don’t know who he is, can’t remember how you two go way further back than everyone else thinks. He wonders how he can get close to you when it seems like ten million miles are separating the both of you as opposed to the fact that you’re actually sitting close to each other.

You shake him out of his reverie when you meticulously and carefully withdraw yourself from the tangly mess of limbs you had been for the past two hours. Your friends don’t wake up if anything they snuggle even more against each other like two baby otters hugging as they sleep. Mark’s heart is crawling up his throat with the desire to follow you to wherever you had gone, probably the kitchen, and for the first time ever he doesn’t let the opportunity go to waste. There’s no one to stop him from his quest, he’s a man with a mission and he will knee kick whoever tries to stop him on the throat.

As predicted, you’re in the kitchen. Your back is turned to him, the billowiness of your large sweatshirt — the colour this bright orange that immediately caught anyone’s attention — engulfing your frame, making you look so tiny and huggable it’s no wonder Mark imagines a scenario where he just approaches you and hugs you from behind, cheek poising on your shoulder before your own arms reach back and stroke his hair. It was ridiculous of him to let his mind run so wild when the reality was that you two had never spoken to each other directly. But that was about to change, even if he was on the verge of peeing his pants because of how nervous he was.

A sound startles you, seemingly someone clearing their throat from behind. Much to your dismay, it’s the person you least expected to be there.

 Mark. 

You’re stunned beyond words to see him standing with his eyes trained on you and nothing else. There was no apparent reason for any interaction between the both of you, nothing was tying you together expect the fact that you both had gone to the same high school. But you were sure he didn’t remember you. You weren’t that recognisable. Just a normal looking face amongst the crowd.

“Um,” He starts off, blinking twice as if he’s gathering his thoughts and pondering how to word them correctly, “Sorry ‘bout… What happened out there.”

Now, this was interesting. Verging on the edge of uncomfortable if you really tried to apply some logic and let your mind take over. Though the mild curiosity plaguing you felt more enticing. You really wanted to know why he was here, apologising on behalf of the others for something you had decided wasn’t that deep. Annoying, perhaps, but deep down understandable. It had already washed out.

“What do you mean?” You cross your arms against your chest and lean back with the bottom of your spine against the counter. 

“I, uh. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m sorry that we ruined your night.” He sounds strained like he’s not proud of the things he just said, but had to do it because that’s how normal conversational situations worked.

It was cute, you thought. His words. His stance. The way he was jiggling his foot up and down in what you assumed was nervousness. Him, in general. 

Mark Lee was an attractive boy, and the stiffness you felt at the absurdity of what was happening wasn’t enough to stop you from acknowledging that. He just had to be absolutely handsome, because being perfect in almost every other aspect probably was insufficient to him. No matter the circumstance, even now — looking like he would rather pop off his head like a balloon instead of standing there — he looked divine. 

If you could bet he was unaware of how heartbreakingly good-looking he was, you would. He looked like that kind of person.

“You don’t have to apologise, Mark. It’s whatever.” His name slips out of your mouth so unfamiliarly you’re taken aback. This is the first time you’re addressing him personally, hell — this is your first conversation. You almost want to discreetly pinch yourself to see if it’s true, but you don’t. Mark was apologising to you for something you no longer cared about as a way to spark a talk between you two, and if that was just a figment of your imagination then so be it.

“Really?” He’s surprised, that much you can tell by the way his irritatingly cute lips round up. “You looked pretty pissed…”

“I was,” You shrug, “It was a bit shitty of you guys, if I’m being honest, but I’m over it.” You meant those words. It wasn’t something you were saying as a means to sweeten him up. You wouldn’t do that. Not to him, not to anyone else.

“I still feel bad… But I promise we didn’t do it on purpose.”

“I know.” Words cease, because you truly don’t know what to say other than that. What were you supposed to do? Instigate something that wasn’t related to the current topic? You felt weird even contemplating it.

Seconds go by, the sounds coming from the TV in the living room muffled yet audible, and voilá, there it was.

The uncomfortable silence you knew would happen if you ever were to speak to someone like Mark. It was there, and it made you inwardly wince at how obvious it was. You were looking to everywhere but him. Feigning interest in the speckles of black in the marble countertop of Jungwoo’s home was better than looking to him. Deep down you were planning your escape route. You were ready to gulp down the rest of your glass of water and flee to the living room, maybe grab your stuff, go home to your bed where you could think about whatever you wanted without fearing someone peeking into the mess your head was. 

And then,

“I’m… I’m not sure if you remember me, but we went to the same high school.” His voice is soft, so soft but still so capable of boggling you to the point of silencing your inner thoughts. 

Mark Lee knew who you were. He knew you, and not just because you were Jungwoo’s best friend, but he knew about your existence since the time you had always dreaded. The heavy feeling in your throat resembles bile, and you try to push it down for the sake of looking presentable and okay in front of Mark, despite feeling completely the other way around. Your hands are clamming up, you can sense them and the urge to fidget with something, the urge to shrink in size to the littlest you possibly could. 

But you couldn’t just disappear out of thin air. Unfortunately. So once again, you suck it up, remember who you are and where you are, and reply with a meek, gentle, “I know.”

He laughs dryly, a hand scratching the back of his neck, “I thought you didn’t know who I was.”

You’re somewhat befuddled by his statement, “What?” A chuckle leaves your throat, and abruptly you’re no longer feeling mortified by all of this, just bewildered, curious, intrigued. He made the leap, opened a path where you both could meet in the middle, and you weren’t going to let this one go without prodding it to its bone and core. “Mark… Everyone knew you. How could I not know you?”

“Not everyone knew me,” He sounds exasperated, and you deadpan at his reply, calling him out on his bullshit. The hue of the lights in Jungwoo’s kitchen must be completely fucked up because you swear if you squint there’s some lovely baby pink dusting Mark’s cheeks. “I was just… trying not to let the conversation die. Also, you’re the only person I have recognised so far that went there. It’s nice to see someone familiar.”

You almost choke at him calling you familiar, “Your best friends go here too, though.”

“That’s different.”

You want to roll your eyes but decide against it. “How so?”

They’re…” He trails off, “My best friends. I know them. I’m with them all of the time. And you’re…”

He must have a habit of not finishing his sentences, you realise. Either that or his brain cells are trying their hardest to formulate coherent, plausible thoughts so he can say them. If that’s the case, they’re failing miserably.

“A stranger.” You quip. It’s the truth. You racked your brain for a more appropriate word, but the scan you did for approximately two-thirds of a millisecond failed you. He bites his lip and looks away like he knows you’re right but he’s afraid of confirming it. Great, you muse privately, now I’m focusing on his god damning lips. “You know something? I think I should be the one saying that.”

“Saying what?”

“I thought you didn’t know who I am,” Dropping the tone of your voice by an octave, you mimic what you think Mark’s voice sounds like. As a response, he bursts out laughing at your silly imitation, even going to the point of lowering his upper body against the island separating the both of you, and covering his mouth a few moments later because of how loud it was in comparison to your tranquil surroundings.

His laugh starts low but then ends high-pitched, and as surprising as it is, it doesn’t overwhelm you like you thought it would. It’s kind of ridiculous how something so absurdly normal is capable of making your night, but it does. Also, his face looked kind of cute when he laughed, but you weren’t dwelling too much on that.

“Sorry… That was funny as hell.” He lifts his head, scooting his body closer so he’s closer to you, so he can see you better, so he can be more attentive. There’s still that island blocking him from being too close to you, and for that you’re thankful. Having him where he was already proved to be nerve-wracking if he was mere centimetres away from you… You’d take your previously forgotten escape plan in consideration. You note that it’s the first time you can physically recognise how he’s feeling. “But to reply to what you said, I saw you around school a lot, so it’s normal for me to know who you are, I guess?”

“It’s not, Mark. Okay, let me see if I can explain it to you the best I can.” You sigh, hopping onto the counter behind you. This boy had to be oblivious of all things. “You were popular in high school. A lot of people liked you because you were cool and funny, and good-looking, and a plethora of other annoyingly good qualities.”

It’s too late before you can fully grasp what you just said. 

Because being the normal human being you were, you had just revealed to Mark you thought he was good-looking. To his face. On the first conversation you two were having.

This was one of the reasons why you had always steered away from people like him. They were dangerous, but your idiot of a brain, which was known to be very quick when thinking, was worse, and subsequently, it left you with a variety of unfiltered, unbridled voiced opinions you should keep to yourself from time to time. 

It didn’t happen this time. And if Mark is aware of it or not, you can’t really say. The weird lighting is still playing tricks on you, making his cheeks appear flushed. But you know he’s not. His expression is as confusing as it had always been.

“You have to at least know that,” You giggle nervously, “It’s okay to acknowledge it. It’s not bad to be popular.”

“So a lot of people knew who I was. What’s the big deal about it?”

“Nothing,” You shrug, “I just find it weird how someone like you recognises someone like me, that’s all.”

He furrows his brow, “I don’t follow.”

Of course not.

“I was the most ordinary person in that school. I guess I’m just surprised you know who I am from back then since we pretty much were on opposite sides.” He sends you a look, silently asking you to explain further, and with a grumble, you add, “You ran with the cool kids. I ran with… normal kids.”

He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms against his chest. You’re impressed with the range of emotions you’re pulling out of him. “We ran with different crowds. That doesn’t mean I can't know who you are. If that was the case, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Pausing for a dripping second, he eyes you intensely, the same kind of look he gave you earlier when you saw him. So he was trying to make a point come across after all. “I’m not an asshole… or a fuckboy if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“That’s exactly what a fuckboy who’s an asshole would say.” You’re obviously joking. Mark was a wonderful person, you heard it a lot through the grapevine back in high school. How much of a selfless person he was. How caring he acted towards his friends. How serious he took things. It was simply impossible to hate the guy. You tried to hate him for being so nice, back in your sophomore year when you moved, but that just said more about you than him, really. 

He’s grinning at your choice of words, so you know he took it as a joke. You’re thankful for that. You already felt stupid enough trying to clarify your point of view in this whole You-Know-Me fiasco, it felt childish now that you thought about it, but if he wasn’t able to detect your sarcasm it’d be awkward time anew. “No, but really. I’m not that kind of person, ___.”

It’s the first time you have heard him say your name, and it floors you so inexplicably you can’t help but scratch the non-existent itch you were feeling in the back of your hand. 

Mark Lee was dangerous, you already knew that. He was that person who was able to lure you in without even wanting to, to make you feel important because you were on the receiving end of his attention.

You were dipping your foot, testing the waters. Seeing if the temperature was ideal. Like you’re standing above a swimming pool, buzzing with the rush of wanting to dive in, but holding yourself back because you don’t want to suffer a shock.

Curiosity gnawed at the frays of your being. You wondered if you would back out because you’re lazy and scared if you would submerge yourself in it, little by little as not to spook. 

Above all, you wondered if you would leap intrepidly into it and let yourself drown without a care in the world.

You smile, genuinely, “I know. You’re a good person, Mark Lee.”

Jungwoo pops up in the exact moment you finish saying Mark’s name, rubbing his fists over his closed eyes as a child does. Your heart swells at the sight. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

You grin. His timing was impeccable, as always. You were thankful the conversation ended that way.

One hour later, when you’re in the comfort of your own home, huddled underneath your warm, fluffy blanket, you put on your big girl shoes and do something for once. 

You were going to add him on Facebook.

Mark had the initiative to talk to you, which you were somehow grateful for, even if you were positively puzzled by his effort. So taking a big breath to calm down the incessant knock of your heartbeat, you click on the little Add Friend button before locking your phone quickly and shoving it under your pillow.

Turns out the prospect of never befriending Mark because you two were too different was embarrassingly ludicrous.

Your friend request on Facebook had been accepted not even five minutes after you sent it, your grubby, anxiety-ridden hands clutching your phone as soon as you heard it vibrate against your pillow. And when you woke up the next morning and checked your phone for notifications, one of them belonged to him, standing out and asking you to click on it while the others blurred in the background.

Did you get home safely? He texted, followed by a smiley emoji. In the haziness of the morning, where your senses weren’t still quite acute, your heart pounded intensely. It wasn’t like it was something out of the ordinary, but the fact it showed an inkling of worry and courtesy left your mind reeling and aware of your surroundings.

That was the beginning of a long string of texts that just never seemed to stop. From genuinely getting to know each other through questions to tagging each other on funny memes you saw on Facebook and reminded you of each other. You finally understood and were experiencing first-handed the hype about Mark Lee. And even if you didn’t hang out that much in person, the way you two had connected through messages was satisfying to you already.

Your schedules didn’t exactly match most of the times, so you could only see him in fleeting appearances when he popped up in front of your classroom, waving enthusiastically with a smile so cute it made you melt a little. Or when he went to lunch with your group of friends on Wednesdays instead of going back to his dorm room to study because he wanted to spend time with you. You supposed he was also speaking about Jungwoo, Vernon, and Kino too. He had gotten close to them as well.

On Christmas break, Mark goes back to Canada. The brief thought that floated through your mind about distance being an obstacle to your friendship is quickly washed away when he calls you through Facetime at 1:27AM, daylight clearly radiating in his surroundings while only your forehead showed on your side of the screen.

He wanted to show you the snow.

There were these instances in your conversations where your heart almost leaped out of your chest because of him. You weren’t going to make a big deal out of the first time he tagged you on Facebook until you saw the thought about you lol comment that was right after your name. 

It was annoying, the way he was making you feel.

You try to convince yourself you’re just thrilled over the prospect of being so close to him because your high school friends would be jealous of you. You tell yourself over and over it isn’t deep at all, that you have a greedy, superficial, and mean reasoning behind befriending Mark. But every time your phone dings with a notification, it feels like your heartbeat is crawling on your throat, leaving you no room to breathe at all. Like stepping on a seemingly shallow puddle yet it swallows you whole by surprise. Surprisingly enough, you don’t mind being underwater. 

Even if it means you’ll be gasping for oxygen soon.

______

It’s December 31st, and you’re sitting in the middle of Kino’s apartment deep in thought. Drunk, yet pensive nonetheless. 

If your calculations were correct, you still had two more weeks of classes left, and then the semester would be over. Normally you wouldn’t allow yourself to become so inebriated when you had finals just around the corner, but Vernon had told you Mark returned earlier than expected, subsequently confirming his attendance to the New Year’s party your friends had planned. 

Spending some days away from everyone really had put everything into perspective, and that scared you beyond words. 

The truth was, perhaps you were crushing on Mark Lee. It was insignificant, though. Everyone had a crush on him, it was as ordinary and common as liking superhero movies. As singing along to songs you like when they come on shuffle. It was as ordinary and common as breathing. So you weren’t dwelling on it too much. Except you nearly panicked at the thought of seeing him in front of you while your emotions ran high, unfiltered. It left you no choice but to chug three vodka lemonades in five minutes.

It was 11:05PM, there was a random song rumbling through the speakers you neither didn’t care about nor recognised, and you were sitting down on the floor, wondering about your academic life. Not one of your best moments, you reckoned.

But that’s how Mark finds you, anyway. 

He had shaken Lucas off of his back the moment he arrived at Kino’s, the boy clinging to him like a Koala, yelling a much-slurred m’ssed you bro against the shell of his ear, and hugged the other guys quickly. There are a lot of people he doesn’t know or run within his circle of friends. Furthermore, there seems to be a particular spot amongst the crowd that’s void of physical presence, like a black hole of sorts keeping people away from getting near. He doesn’t understand why he’s walking towards it until he gets there, sees you, siting crisscrossed and completely zoned out.

The most irrational chunk of his being wants to blast someone’s ear off for leaving you unattended and alone while you’re clearly not in a position to be so, but he’s Mark and you’re you. So he kneels beside you like he’s on autopilot mode, touches your shoulder to get your attention, and when you look up to him he just knows.

It would truly be an understatement to say he didn’t miss you.

You blink twice at him as if you’re in disbelief. He tightens his hold on you ever so slightly, just enough to make you realise he’s not a figment of your imagination. It’s obvious you’re questioning his presence. The way your eyes are glossed over so heavily plus the inconvenience of being sat on the floor rather than a normal sitting surface. They indicate your lack of sobriety. 

And when it dawns on you, amidst the fog of your thoughts, that he’s really there, you’re looping your arms around his middle, spooking him beyond words as you pull him into a hug. “Marky!” 

This is uncharted territory. Public display of affection wasn’t something you two ever did, well, except the occasional shoulder bumping or once when you grabbed onto his wrist because he was going in the wrong direction. There was no logical reason behind what you were doing, Mark was aware of that, you were drunk after all. But you have your forehead against his chest — awkwardly, if he really thought about it — and your arms are crushing his back, and yeah. In times like these, all logic flies right through the window.

“Hi.” You’re beaming and Mark feels nauseous.

“Hi, you okay?” He says in your ear, brushing away a small strand of hair. Not even the loud pounding of his heart could overtake the worry he was feeling. “Do you need anything?”

“I’m good, Marky boy! Now that you’re here, I’m even better.” 

There it was. That jolt in his chest.

It was much like a constant whenever he was with you. Whether you were with friends or not held little to no importance, it happened every time you said or did something that left his mind reeling with unrealistic possibilities. Normally, these things would be mildly dubious, like that one time where you wiped some sauce he had on his chin with your thumb — he dubbed that your motherly nature, you did similar stuff to pretty much everyone in your group. But you had hugged him, indicated his presence was a positive aspect in your life. He was about to overthink the hell out of that for the next two weeks.

“How much have you drunk?” You blink at him, pat the spot in front of you. He’s so focused on everything concerning you he doesn’t even feel the strain on his thighs from being on his knees. But he humours you anyway, sits across from you and mimics your position.

“M’drunk.” You shrug, “Not too drunk, but drunk. My feet hurt so I sat here, there’s nowhere else to sit.” 

“Kino’s room?”

“Yeah,” She snorts, throwing her head back, “That was my plan until I saw Jungwoo and Eunseo aggressively making out. I’ll pass.”

Mark’s eyes just about grow twice their size at your statement, “Jungwoo… and… Eunseo?” He pauses for some time, “Is it surprising that I’m actually not that surprised?”

“I’m not either. It’s like you’re expecting it but when it happens you’re surprised that it actually happened… It was a matter of time, I suppose.”

“I mean, she spends so much time at his place. I’m surprised, but not shocked.” He says, “It seems like everyone is getting a significant other, don’t you think?” His attempts at flirting are lame, yet he was going to try nevertheless, considering the circumstances you two were in, of course. 

“Everyone but me, m’forever alone.” You’re pouting dramatically, wringing your fingers together. He wishes he dared to say you didn’t need or were fit to be forever alone because right in front of you was someone who would die to make you his. 

But Mark was a coward. He would sooner shit his pants than say that out loud.

“Let’s cheer to that.” You take him seriously, rejoice at his suggestion, and drag him to the kitchen to get alcohol into his system. He doesn’t mind the implications of what he was about to do at all, you held his hand all the way through, only letting it go so you could grab a cup and mix a concoction you promised he wouldn’t regret drinking. And it wasn’t those palm in palm kind of hand-holding. You had your fingers laced in between his.

There’s a bitterness in the drink you hand him, yet he can still feel the sugar rush in the aftertaste. It’s something acidic, a mixture of passionfruit and lemon, and he winces at the first gulp only. It gets progressively easier when your eyes seem to make him burn a lot more than the alcohol.

One cup turns into two, two cups being enough to make him way past the tipsy stage. To make matter worse, Kino drops by the kitchen, slobbers a kiss on your cheek and offers you a blunt before skidding away. You get giddier than you already were, jumping around in your seat like a small child. It’s actually endearing.

Mark already knew Kino and some of the other guys indulged themselves with weed, and even if deep down he already knew you were one to do that too, it still shakes him a little.

It was kind of hot, the prospect of you smoking.

And he was about to witness it.

“This place is filth. Let’s go somewhere else.” You say. And by somewhere else you mean the floor. The one you two were sitting before you came here. But this time you find the rug in the living room empty and take him there, claiming you two should be comfortable.

His vision is spinning and blurry, the loud voices and music in the background muddled, and he curses himself for being such a lightweight. Mark was never much of a drinker.

You plop down on top of the fluffy red rug and he follows suit, watching you take a lighter from the back pocket of your jeans. You light the joint and take the first hit with calculated expertise only someone who did it way too frequently could pull off.

“M’conflicted.” You say after a while, blowing the smoke far from his face. Mark keeps quiet, just eyes you silently, waits for you. “I want to offer you the blunt because I don’t want to seem indelicate or selfish, but at the same time I don’t want to because I’d hate it if you felt pressured.”

There’s a twitch in his heartbeat. He hates it. “I… I have never done it before.” He gulps, pinching his hand to keep himself sane, “So I wouldn’t know how to do it.”

“I can teach you. If you want.” You quip, the joint still poised against your finger, “Only if you want, though. It’s cool if you don’t, more for me.”

It’s somewhat a dilemma to him. He wants to try it, not because you’re the person he has been crushing on for quite a while, but because he was always curious about it. Lucas was his housemate after all, and getting contact high was inevitable around him. That small buzz he felt those times was appealing to him, it made him wonder how it would be if he experienced it firsthand. He had always been curious, but never really acted upon it. Until now, with you right in front of him, offering him a chance at squashing his curiosity. 

That was his problem. You.

Mark was all for taking risks, and experiencing what life had to offer, but only if the people embarking with him were his friends. His friends friends, who knew how fucking silly and weird he was, and that definitely didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to explode inside out. 

But here you were, right in front of him, being so incredible considerate it was borderline annoying how even tipsy he could feel every nerve end. 

“Okay. Yeah, teach me.” Those are some dangerous words, he realises after he says them. His tummy feels like it’s a pot of lava, burning and waiting until it spills over.

You scoot closer to him until your knees are knocking against his, smiling brightly when he jumps a little. “It’s no big deal, really. Put the joint between your index and middle finger.” He’s frowning in concentration, and to avoid any messy situations — because of your hazy surroundings — you grab his palm to steady it and put the spliff in between his ready fingers. 

“Feels weird…” He says, and you roll your eyes playfully.

“Of course, it’s your first time holding it. It’ll become second nature to you once you do it more often.” You hum a bit, “If you keep on doing it, that is.” You hope he does. You’re nowhere near prepared to see the glorious sight of Mark smoking, and if he decides it’s just not it for him you’ll have to store that mental picture forever in the depths of your brain.

He doesn’t take his eyes away from the blunt, or if he does you miss it, so you continue instructing, “Now, you put it in between your lips, just the tip.” You’re aware of how blatantly sexually charged these instructions could sound to anyone else, and you were feeling it too. The crude images on the back of your lids were truly unnecessary when you were trying to teach the guy how to take a hit, not how to… do other things. You felt too hot in your clothes. “And you inhale. But lightly. I don’t want you to cough to death.”

Mark giggles at that, his shoulders less tense than before, “Okay,” He exhales nervously, “I’m gonna do it.”

“Lightly, Mark. Don’t forget it. After you inhale it, try to keep the smoke in for a little, and then you can push it out.” The hand he’s keeping free is wiped insistently against his jeans. Before the little rationality you have left on your brain kicks in, you put your hand on top of his and squeeze. As a way to comfort him. As a way to maybe let him magically know you had a stupid crush on him without saying it out loud. Who knows.

He inhales just like you taught him, the flame burning alive in front of you for a few seconds. The small cough he lets out is expected, and you laugh way more than you should have, considering it was his first time.

“You’re making fun of me!” He whines, the little pout adorning his lips testing your patience.

“M’sorry, Marky… It’s just cute, that’s all.” You mumble, feeling a blush take over your cheeks at your unfiltered confession. “Was it good? Did it feel nice?”

“It’s… different.” He places the joint back to his lips, takes a drag once again. His eyes widen at the intensity, and the way he exhales the smoke seems like he’s somewhat disgusted. “This shit is strong as fuck, Jesus.”

“Kino has a soft spot for me.” You shrug. 

“It seems like everyone has a soft spot for you,”

“I wouldn’t say that,” You roll your eyes at his statement, “I just feel like I have really good friends. I love them a lot. They mean so much to me I don’t think I can put it in words.”

Normally, you weren’t much of an emotionally forward person. The dullness in your life had never allowed you such novelties. 

Sometimes it truly felt like you were void of them, void of the feeling of showing someone how much you cared, outwardly. That changed when you got drunk, or high. It was as if every repressed emotion you crushed into the pit of your being just spilled out without any warning. You didn’t mind it though, neither did your friends. Jungwoo said it was a very you thing but still berated you constantly with hugs, which you didn’t mind. Eunseo always bragged about being the only person with whom you were affectionate. Kino and Vernon probably didn’t even realise it. Eunwoo and Yeeun were similar to you except when they were alone together.

“I’m glad, really. You deserve it.” He’s looking at you in a way you can’t possibly describe because he’s Mark Lee after all. And he could be looking at you in ten million different ways and you wouldn’t be able to decipher which one corresponds to how he’s really feeling. Sometimes you wished you could crack open his skull and take a peek inside his mysterious brain. 

The two of you keep chatting and passing the blunt to each other, the paper burning at the tip of your fingers as time flew by. Your eyes were droopy and your vision blurry, Mark’s body becoming one with the background. Even if you had important things to take care of, there was nowhere else you’d rather be than there with him. And so the two of you keep passing the blunt back and forth, enjoying each other’s company in silence.

Two minutes or five hours could have passed, and you wouldn’t even realise it. You’re unaware of how it happens but when you come back to your senses you have your cheek pressed against someone’s chest, their hand loosely wrapped around your back. At first, you assume it’s Jungwoo or any other of your friends. But the gentle pout of lips you see when you raise your head slightly tells you otherwise.

It was Mark.

If you were in your right state of mind, your heart would probably be catapulting out of your chest, splattering against the nearest window. Lucky for you, the weed just leaves you calm, and the slow drum of your heartbeat proves it.

There’s a sudden startling commotion in the room, voices rising in pitch as they start screaming a countdown. The countdown for New Year’s, those specific ten (and plus) seconds that held so much meaning for so many people, but to you had always been sort of a silly thing you did with your friends. When it came to the dreaded New Year’s kiss last year, Eunseo had been your partner since both of you were single and close enough to peck each other amid a drunken state.

“10! 9!”

The year was about to end and Eunseo was nowhere in sight. You figured she was finally smooching the hell out of Jungwoo, leaving you alone to kiss the back of your hand. You didn’t even have the strength in you to get up from Mark’s comfortable hold to go bother her about it.

8! 7!

Right. 

The year was about to end and you were cuddling Mark Lee in your best friend’s living room, tucked away in a corner where no one could see you both. You sit up, the arm he had around you sliding to the rug. He only opens his eyes for a second before he closes them, a smile permanently etched on his lips.

6!

These stupid traditions were not your thing. 

You were not getting swayed into kissing someone just because 2019 was six seconds away. Though it had been too long since you kissed someone. To make matters worse, you were a needy drunk.

5!

Sure, you weren’t one to fall through with silly traditions. But then again, you had a crush on Mark and he was a breath away from you, looking so peaceful it hurt you to even disrupt him. And you had liquid courage coursing through your veins.

Maybe you were going to kiss someone this year. 

To keep the tradition going.

4!

The seconds are ticking by, and there’s a foreign weight settling on top of Mark’s thighs. When he opens his eyes, he is almost sure he’s dreaming, the weed he had smoked fabricating cruel inceptions out of spite. Because the prospect of you really sitting on his lap, legs caging his, was so unrealistic he had to prop himself on his elbows, gaze wide and unblinking as if he was being deceived, scared it would vanish.

3!

You don’t have much time left. 

Processing the fact you were about to kiss Mark Lee for the sake of tradition — an excuse you would take with you to your grave, and the excuse you would give to anyone and everyone who asked you about it — was making you sober, the rush of acknowledging your decision clearing up your vision just enough so you could see how beautiful he looked.

He really was stupidly attractive. And you were going to kiss him.

“Mark,” You yell over the voices, scooting yourself closer to his waist and leaning closer to his face, “M’gonna kiss you, okay?”

2!

This was a dream, it had to be. Reality was probably playing sick tricks on his mind. Still, the weak, cowardly part of him was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

So he nodded towards you — the fabricated version of you sitting prettily on top of him.

1!

You were one second from kissing Mark Lee.

Before the last second dissipates you clasp the sides of his face gently, eyes zooming in on his lips. He swipes his tongue over them just then, and it resonates so deep within you it’s imperative to close that space distancing the both of you.

“Happy New Year!”

Calculated plans usually looked and sounded better in theory, when they were just a pencil-drawn draft with little annotations scribbled around it. The end result doesn’t always go exactly as planned. Theoretically, Mark and you were supposed to be passionately making out as others did the same around you. You had envisioned it clearly in the few seconds you had before putting your plan into action.

That’s not what happens.

You miserably miss your aim by a few centimetres and end up kissing half of his mouth instead, the force behind the puckering of your lips so strong he loses his balance, elbows giving out below him. There’s some nose bumping on his jaw, chests touching, a mess of limbs even the non-sober you feels embarrassed about. Mark knocks his head quite harshly against the rug, but his reaction ends up being a laugh. This severely high-pitched squeak like he’s truly in disbelief.

(He wasn’t dreaming, after all.)

“You okay?” He keeps on laughing loudly as you put your hand behind the nape of his neck, “Stop laughing, you idiot!”

His laugh is also stupidly contagious. As if every other quality he had wasn’t enough to make you like him. So you end up laughing with him, put your head on his chest again and listen to the sound of his heartbeat.

You’d worry about the consequences tomorrow.

You prided yourself for never getting serious hangovers in the past — usually, alcohol ran fast in your system and by the end of each night you drank plenty of water to avoid those terrible happenstances. Being the designated drunk mom of your group didn’t come with many perks after all. But the dull throb palpitating in your temples was a telltale on its own. When you opened your eyes, it only intensified. The blinds had little sits in which the light came in, and they only seemed to worsen your state.

If a pile of shit was a state of mind, it would be exactly how you were feeling.

The kitchen is completely spotless when you enter it, the bottles and snacks that used to be littering every possible surface simply gone. It’s not much of a surprise since Kino abhors having a messy house, his reasoning being one’s personal space reflects one’s inner self. Another thing that’s not a surprise is the fact that Kino is cooking, his back to you as he concocts something you are pretty sure it won’t disappoint you. Vernon is as useless as one can be in the kitchen; if it wasn’t for Kino he would be living off of frozen meals and warm tap water.

“Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty.” He only acknowledges your presence when you sit down in one of the kitchen chairs, resting your closed eyes against your palms due to the sunlight hurting them. You don’t even make an effort to look at him.

“Afternoon— Jesus. How much have I slept?”

“It’s almost 3PM.”

“Jesus Christ. Get me some sunglasses, will you?”

He snorts but still obeys. It takes a minute for him to come back, yet when he does he drops not only the sunglasses in front of you — which you scramble to put them on —, but an Advil alongside a water bottle as well. “Can’t believe I’m friends with a real-life vampire. Do you want to feast on me for breakfast?”

“Shut up,” You groan, pausing to unscrew the bottle and down the pill, “I’m a wreck.”

“That you are. We found you last night drooling on Mark’s chest. The boy was positively spooked for life.” You nearly give yourself whiplash with how quickly you glance up to a head-shaking Kino, yet he turns his back on you and goes back to preparing his food.

There are a lot of things you want to ask: if Mark was okay, if he had told anyone what happened, how he had left, if he really had been spooked by your whole behaviour — even the one you prayed only you and him knew about, but you compose yourself before all of those questions tumbled out of your mouth without you even wanting it.

“What did he say?” A seemingly innocent question on your behalf. You couldn’t show too much emotion.

“Not much, if I’m being honest,” He shrugs, reaching upwards to grab two bowls from the white cupboard, “Just told us to get you safe on a bed and to make sure you drank water. He was baked as hell, by the way. I didn’t peg him as a stoner.”

Your heartbeat picked up unconsciously at his display of concern, once again. “He’s not. It was his first time yesterday.”

“Look at you, you little nymph, luring the innocent boy in with your illegal ways.” He’s taunting you, you can feel it. Kino always knows more than he lets on, it’s one of his specialties besides being incredibly insightful and introspective. There’s this little smirk on the right corner of his mouth you are entirely too familiar with. He doesn’t say anything else, just puts down the bowls of rice mixed with vegetables and scrambled eggs on the table, and sits on the chair opposite of yours. 

“I know, right? I’m such a bad influence. Someone tattoo BAD FRIEND on my forehead, please.” You roll your eyes, spoon digging into the mixture, “Speaking of bad friends. Where are Jungwoo and Eunseo?”

“They—”

“I know. I saw them eating each other’s faces off last night, unfortunately.”

He shudders, “They left together. It was painstakingly obvious, but it still threw me the fuck off. If he does so much as comment about what they did, I’ll choke him to death.”

“The fucker would probably like it.” You say in between a mouthful of food.

“That’s what worries me the most.”

The conversation dies down comfortably after that, both of you indulging in your bowls of food and throwing the expected occasional jabs that came along with befriending an idiot. Your friendship and Kino’s was just like that, there was this mutual understanding that neither of you pressured the other into spilling their hidden thoughts or emotions to the other. The glint in his eyes was loud enough, it said ‘I’ll be here whenever you need me. Take your time. Don’t rush things. They need patience to grow, to gain form’. Each one of your friendships was different, distinct in their own special and important way. Kino’s held a dear place in your heart for the eminent trust rooted in its foundation. You would always find a safe haven in his presence.

“Oh, that’s right. Yesterday, Mark also told me you should check your phone after you woke up.”

“You only tell me that now? We should skip strangling Jungwoo, I think you should be the one to go first.” You push the chair back and get up, making your way to the room while your friend only laughs.

“It’s probably on the bed!” He yells.

The blinds are still closed, so you paw around the bed aimlessly until your fingers clutch the glass screen of your phone. You don’t even grab it, you just throw yourself onto the bed and frantically tap the screen twice so it comes to life.

You could swear you had never clicked on something so fast.

[03:09] mark: I know you’d probably say to text you when I got home safe so

[03:09] mark: I got home safe

[03:11] mark: Rocky was the designated driver last night lol Lucas and I were fucking out of our minds

[03:24] mark: I already told kino but make sure to drink a shit ton of water, you’re not getting a hangover on my watch

[03:25] mark: Text me when you get up so I know you’re okay

[03:36] mark: Tonight was a dream

[03:49] mark: Goodnight

[13:33] you: hiiiiiiiiiiiiii

[13:34] you: i’m glad you got home okay!!!! you know damn well i’d freak tf out if you didn’t lmk

[13:42] you: btw i’m sorry i drooled on your shirt. and got you high as a kite. amongst other things……. lmao 

[13:45] you: woke up with a bitching headache but i’ve drunk water and taken an advil so worry not kind sir

[13:53] mark: Good morningg

[13:53] mark: Have you eaten yet?

[13:53] mark: I mean good afternoon lol

[13:54] you: gmornin!! yes kino cooked for me omg:( i love him

[13:54] mark: Also don’t apologize you dummy, I really didn’t mind any of it

Grabbing the pillow from beneath you, you put it over your head to stifle the embarrassing yet necessary scream you let out. Mark hadn’t given you any sign he didn’t remember the sad excuse of a kiss you shared last night, so you would have a little bit of faith in him, pray to the Gods he dared to make the next move since you had already taken quite the leap.

The ball was in his court now.

Or you hoped so.

For someone who had the ball in his court, Mark Lee did absolutely nothing that proved it. You were dreading for a move on the inside, every single moment you spent with him leaving you analysing in detail all his mannerisms and actions while hoping something would be a dead give away of a smidge of retaliation to your feelings. 

Nothing. Weeks went by, and nothing happened. Nothing. Nada.

The hope you once felt dissolved slowly into plain misery and heartbreak like toxic acid on untainted skin. And still, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you bend and break before him, even if you didn’t really believe he was at fault.

At the end of the day, Mark never did anything specific that could be interpreted as flirting or as a suggestion of different intentions other than a friendship. You were foolish to believe he’d look at you in any different way: you had created expectations all by yourself and now you were left to collect the shards of not only your broken heart but the hope you had built up alone as well.

He never mentioned the kiss, never even allowed himself to be presented in any other way than the way he always was, the social, happy-go-lucky boy everyone loved to be around. And you were stuck pretending you felt fine, pretending everything was okay. You should have known better than to even dream someone like him was interested in someone like you. Becoming his friend had already been a marvelous feat considering how much of a disparity existed between you two.

You delve into your studies to take your mind off of him, which works out for the best, really. Getting good grades, as a result, soothes your heart in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Before you know it, the semester ends. 

The gang meets up after the last exam at Jungwoo’s house to discuss plans for the holidays. One month was a lot of time, so some of you are expecting to visit your parents for the most part, while saving the last week for the group trip. Not any group trip, the group trip. This was going to be your second year, and you were excited to go back.

“What about you, ___?” Eunseo inquires from her spot where she has only one foot on top of Jungwoo like she was lazily claiming her property. The two had started dating on the first day of the year and since then they had been the grossest yet cutest couple to ever exist. “Jungwoo, Mark, Vernon, and I are staying for the whole month. I don’t really feel like going back to my mom’s.”

You look at Mark to find him already looking at you in the same way he always did. It used to bemuse you but now it only irritates you. He looks dead inside. Averting your sight from him with the most stoic expression you can give, you then hum, “I think I might go home. I really miss my family.”

“No,” Jungwoo moans, dragging on the vowel, “Stay with us, ___. Please.”

“And risk me into getting roped in couple activities with the lovebirds? Thanks, but I’ll pass.” You snort, and Kino joins in.

“We’re gonna miss you, though.”

“Yeah,” Mark adds, “You always make the mood better.”

Your heart still skips a beat for him, there was no denying that. Even listening to his voice was enough to make your mind reel, but now you were no longer on cloud 9. Rationality had taken control of your heart. Getting over this stupid crush was the best for everyone, especially for you.

“Sucks for you, because I can’t wait to take a break from seeing you almost every day.” You looked Mark dead in the eyes as you said it, desperate to make him understand the coldness of your speech had a reason. You were hurting on the inside, though you couldn’t let it show. Words of indifference and annoyance were your defense mechanisms, the armour you had to built to preserve and protect yourself. Before your words felt too personal and too targeted at someone in specific, you quipped, “You guys tire me.”

The laugh was collective, but Mark’s was forced. Maybe his eyes were unable to make you see his true self, but the way he squared his shoulders while he laughed couldn’t fool anyone, not even you.

It seemed like the shoe had fit. He looked uncomfortable.

Good. 

Mission accomplished.

Seeing your mom smiling at you because she missed you was almost enough to make you sob right in front of her. 

But you don’t do that.

You only allow yourself to break down when you close the door to your childhood bedroom, the secureness it transmitted being enough to break apart the dam holding you together by the seams. It wasn’t like the tears rushing down your cheeks were there only because of how stupid you felt for liking Mark. Sure, part of it was because of that too, but you had the tendency to bottle your emotions until they couldn’t be contained anymore, so everything that had caused you pain during the past few months was being let out after suffering repression for a long time.

Spending three weeks in the company of your family proved to be a better remedy than you expected. Even the inevitable arguments and misunderstandings were welcomed, for they brought a sense of nostalgia which calmed the storm inside of you. In the times you isolated yourself in your room, it gave you a safe space to freely think about everything surrounding you, especially the Mark situation. 

He didn’t want to talk about the kiss, and that was fine. You were sure he had a reason for it, namely not wanting to go through the whole I’m sorry but I don’t see you like that scenario, which once again, was understandable. Mark didn’t owe you anything. You had set up the trap and fell for it all on your own.

You still talked to Mark throughout your time away from the group, because you’d hate yourself even more if you alienated him for something that shouldn’t intervene in your friendship. It was weird at first, the chemistry and dynamic between the both of you didn’t change whatsoever, which was good. Whenever he mentioned doing Facetime you always found an excuse to avoid seeing his face. Hearing his voice in the inevitable phone calls you did was already causing so much damage to begin with, imagine if you tended to his every wish. You would never improve. But you held on and followed through with it, as you knew you would. 

Those three weeks made you rationalise your feelings, swallow them whole and cage them in the depths of your chest. The longer you kept on daydreaming about you and Mark doing mundane couple things instead of focusing on the harsh reality that he didn’t like you back, the more it was going to hurt.

So when you got back in the city you deemed yourself normal again.

Jungwoo gave one of his infamous dramatic speeches about you never leaving his side again otherwise he would commit atrocities, while Eunseo did her best as the supporting role of a sidekick. These two were the closest to you out of everyone else, and the fact that they were dating now used to scare you in the beginning. Scared they would eventually distance themselves from the group like many couples do when they start dating. But that ended up being far from the truth since they annoyed the hell out of each other so frequently they even begged to be away from each other whenever they were with other friends.

The gang only had one week left until the second semester began, and this meant it was time for your group trip.

Besides being several things, Jungwoo was also absolutely loaded. Well, his parents were rich, which technically made him rich too, though he always preferred to say he just lived a comfortable life.

When the two of you met in your first year of college, in a class both of you were starting to abhor, you would never imagine how close you would become in the span of a few months. But little by little, your group began to form — Eunseo and Vernon came next, then Kino — and when the end of the first semester neared, he had suggested for the lot of you to head down to his vacation house, the one he went to every Summer. The prospect of going to a place like that in the middle of February was ridiculous until he said he had an indoor pool. Just like any other person who lived comfortably.

This year, though, there were going to be new additions to the trip. Including, of course, Mark and Lucas.

Everything was going to end up just fine because, at the end of the day, your friends were there. And no matter what happened, they were more than enough for you.

The downfall of Kim Jungwoo was being too kind and considerate of others no matter what the situation was. He didn’t have it in his heart to say no to most requests, especially if those came from someone who he considered a great friend of his. He really disliked seeing other people unhappy or lonely.

One hour into the drive to your destination for the next week, shit had already hit the fan. Jungwoo breaks the news that some friends of Mark and Lucas’s friends were tagging along because they were going to be left all alone back in the city without anyone else to keep them company. Lucas supposedly mentioned quite aloofly that statement, and Jungwoo, ever the altruist saviour, couldn’t resist but to make a proposal.

Eunseo almost choked on her gum, Vernon was sleeping with his head resting against Kino’s shoulder, Kino made this awfully funny stank expression, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t really avoid the poker face after he drops that bomb on the four of you.

“Are you fucking serious? Again?” Eunseo sounds completely exasperated, rightfully so. You were thankful she was taking the lead, as his girlfriend, it was more acceptable if the nagging came from her, and not from you. Even if deep down you were itching to slap the side of his head.

“Listen,” He tries to reason, side-eyeing her to keep his focus on the road, “They were going to be all alone until the semester started! And it’s not like we can’t accommodate two more people. My house is enough for all of us.”

She scoffs, “It’s not about the size of your fucking house, Jungwoo. It’s about how you just said fuck it to a comfortable environment between people who know each other to bring two more people because you pity them!”

“I know, honey,” His voice is soft, a twinge of regret and desperation coming through, “They know Mark and Lucas, though! It will turn out okay, trust me.”

You doubted it, but you couldn’t possibly hold some judgment or impact over Jungwoo invited over to his house. It was his after all, and if he had deemed fit inviting people who weren’t apart of your group of friends, you just had to accept it. Much like when Mark, Lucas, and Rocky came over to Jungwoo’s place for movie night. They were strangers to the rest (except Mark, but well, no one knew about the circumstances of your prior acquaintanceship except the both of you), but your best friend really tried hard to make his both group of friends become one.

If these friends were like Rocky, who unfortunately had gone abroad with his parents for vacations and couldn’t be present, maybe the environment was going to be amicable, fun even. You were willing to keep an open mind, despite the primary discomfort of mingling with people you weren’t familiar with refusing to wear off.

Eunseo slapped Jungwoo’s hand when he tried to hold it across the console, and you closed your eyes, repeating everything will turn out fine in your head over and over like a mantra until it became true. 

Fake it ’til you make it.

Someone had to be playing some kind of sick, cruel, and twisted trick on you.

Whoever was pulling the strings up there in the sky, God, that abstract deity or deities, were definitely set on making you suffer. Or perhaps someone who was into voodoo had a little stuffed doll version of you, and they found pleasure in pinpricking you whenever they were bored. That person must have been bored to death because nothing had prepared you for what you saw when you stepped out of the car.

You knew it was over as soon as your eyes landed on the two petite, dainty, and incredibly beautiful girls in front of you.

In your stupid, dumb, sad excuse of a brain, these friends Jungwoo was talking about were boys, rowdy, stupid boys, to match the rowdy, stupid energy Mark and Lucas emanated whenever they were together. It never crossed your mind, the possibility of these friends being girls, so unaware yet so powerfully able to destroy your self-confidence and childish hope that something would blossom between Mark and you. One of them, the tallest one with long wavy dark brown hair, has her arm on Mark’s shoulder as she laughs, head thrown back like he had just told the best joke of the century.

You feel sick to your stomach, there’s something akin to bile rising to your throat and you furiously try to swallow it down alongside the feelings you thought you had buried and locked safely in the confines of your chest.

“Guys!” Lucas bellows, and everyone’s attention shifts to your group, “Now the party can officially begin!”

A forced smile breaks on your lips, the kind everyone could see how fake it was. The girl’s hand slides from his shoulder as Mark shuffles forward, eyes on you, towards where you were standing next to Kino. The anxiety makes you grab his arm for safety, to keep you from acting stupid. You can tell Mark knows something is up by the way he scrunches his nose at your small, dismissive wave in his direction, but he neither says nor does anything about it. Thankfully.

The girls — the petty, hungry and jealous monster living inside of you ached to call them intruders — introduced themselves as Yoojung and Doyeon, the latter being the one who had been cosying all up on Mark. Much to your dismay, they’re both incredibly sweet and genuine people, to the point of helping the rest of you set up everything in the house so your stay is comfortable.

On the first night, Doyeon cooks everyone dinner and nothing but high praises are sung to the food she makes. Mark repeats the dish twice, compliments leaving his mouth incessantly, and the dagger piercing through your heart is dug deeper. You were painfully aware that she wasn’t to blame, but when even your friends begin asking for more of it, you were bound to feel the metaphorical blow on your stomach. The cook of the group was you. The person whose food always had everyone raving about was you. You can’t even stomach more than three bites before you say you’re not feeling too well.

 It was starting to resemble like that fateful movie night all over again, with you feeling retracted and alienated. For the remainder of the night, you claim to be extremely tired due to the traveling and withdraw yourself to the room you shared with Eunseo, — since she still wasn’t completely over the stunt he had pulled, but you just knew she was going to trade places with Kino midweek, who was rooming with Jungwoo for the time being — covering your entire body with the duvet. You can hear the cacophony of laughter coming from the living room. It rings in your ears until you fall asleep.

On day two, you wake up earlier than usual. Scoping around the enormous place, you find that no one else is awake, just you. Not even Lucas, who was curled in a ball on the U-shaped sofa, snoring. You tiptoe your way to the kitchen, set on making something guilt-free to ease the relentless growling of your stomach. After last night’s dinner, you were positively starving.

Cooking had always been something you loved to do as a hobby. As a kid, you had watched your grandmother, and your mother too, make the most delicious food with so much gusto it was inevitable for you to follow their steps and prove how cooking ran in your blood. Acknowledging how good you were at it was far from bragging: it was barely the result of kinship. So it was safe to say your ego was bruised at the lack of request from your friends to cook last night’s meal. This particular breakfast was meant to be therapeutic, to settle the sensitive nerves you had clawing inside of you.

You were finishing pouring the first spoon of pancake batter onto the oiled frying pan when the scraping of a chair against the floor sounds behind you, announcing someone else was now with you. The sudden heaviness clutching around your heart is a foresight, it’s like your body had become so in tune to his you were now able to feel his presence without any of your five senses.

“Good morning.” You don’t turn back to look at him, afraid the sight of a sleepy Mark would devastate you beyond the point of no return. 

“Morning,” He hums. You’re floored at how sultry and comforting his voice sounds. “What are you making?”

You were silly to think sharing a vicinity for a whole week with the person you were crushing on was going to be okay. The hand holding the scoop trembled pathetically against the bowl, and you hadn’t even look at him whatsoever. Every little thing concerning him was enough to make your heart grow in size and volume until it occupied the entirety of your chest.

“Nutella pancakes.”

Mark groans, the sound rumbling deep from his chest, and it’s so effective in the way it elicits a shiver down your spine, “That sounds amazing. Care to share some with this boy who feels like crap?”

That’s enough to make you face him. As expected, it shakes you to your very core. You couldn’t even muster up beautiful and coherent thoughts about how good he looked. His hair is obviously finger brushed, yet there’s a cowlick standing cutely stiff against the rest; the urge to put it down is so immense you claw your nails in the meaty part of your palm. “Did something happen?”

“I could say the same thing to you. You barely ate yesterday, and fled so quickly I didn’t even see you.”

You roll your eyes, but inside you’re scrambling to find an excuse while you go back to your main task, “It’s called being car sick, Mark. I’m not used to really long drives.”

“Sure,” His lips twist as a visual cue to show he didn’t truly believe your words. “If you must know, I feel like crap because I didn’t check up on you.” 

You hum once again, taking a dollop of Nutella and dropping it in the middle of the pancake before covering it with another scoop of batter. He continues, “I was going to, though. Then decided against it because I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Maybe you should have.” You say, using the spatula next to you to flip the pancake, “I wouldn’t have minded the company.”

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs. You don’t reply, and the pancake sizzling on the stove speaks on your behalf.

Silence wraps around you so uncomfortably your skin crawls at how awkward it feels. What were you supposed to say? ‘No, Mark, I’m the one who should be sorry for acting all stupid around you’? Or perhaps saying ‘The reason I’m acting this weird is because I have a big, fat crush on you and seeing you act all chummy with an attractive girl makes me want to bash my head against a wall’ would reflect the dangerous tides drowning you better. So you do what you always do best, and place your feelings in front of him in the form of probably the most perfect looking pancakes ever. He would never realise it, and at this point neither did you want him to. The sting of being rejected had over-imposed itself over any fake bravado you could possibly pour out. 

He digs in like he hadn’t eaten for days, the moan coming out of his moan paired with his eyes rolling back into his skull so obscene it propels you to swivel your body so you could actually make something for you to eat.

You sit across from him while you eat your breakfast, and all Mark does is stare at you in the meanwhile. It weighs burdensomely on your shoulders for the first minutes, then disappears when the familiarity settles in. After you’re done, you go back to your room with exhaustion seeping through your pores as if you hadn’t slept in years. 

He doesn’t get up after you, just stays there sitting on the chair.

On day three, you try to keep a more positive aspect about every possible outcome. Sulking around in possibly one of the best occasions had little to no sense. You mingle a lot more with everyone, including Jooyoung and Doyeon. It pained you to admit, but they were really sweet, witty girls, which made it incredibly hard for you to hate Doyeon when she was so likable and genuine.

You didn’t want to be consumed by this restricting feeling of insecurity whenever she was around, because really, she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Sure, she was extremely touchy when it came to Mark, it seemed like she had to be touching him in any way, whether it was the side of their arms touching whenever they were sitting down — because they always ended up sitting next to each other, leaving you to be sandwiched between Lucas and Kino — or her hand seeking solace in the slope of his shoulder as she laughed and leaned forward, but that could be simply coincidental. Or maybe Doyeon and you were on the same boat, sharing a crush on the most oblivious guy on Earth. Yet the difference between the both of you lied in the fact that she wasn’t afraid to act upon it unlike you. Even if you had kissed him, which was probably way more than she had ever done. 

But Mark either didn’t remember, or he was pretending not to.

By the end of the afternoon of the third day, everyone seemed to be in the mood for a dip in the indoor pool. And your nightmare began to unravel from that moment onwards.

If Doyeon already looked absolutely stunning with loose-fitting, comfortable clothes and minimal makeup, it was no wonder she was five times better with a swimsuit and barefaced. The simple pink one-piece she was wearing outshined your navy striped one by a long shot. You never really stood a chance against her to begin with, but now that everyone was as less clothed as one could be in public, you were feeling insecure beyond words.

Especially because Mark and she kept on splashing water towards one another, the underlying tones of flirting barely visible to anyone else but you. The way he ruffled up his wet hair, his lips parting whenever she spoke, the crinkling in his eyes. It all made nausea boil up in your throat, so you tried to distract yourself by playing silly games with your friends. Pretending was your strong suit.

Or you liked to believe it was.

That night Doyeon huddles in a sweatshirt that is too big to be hers with her head poised delicately on Mark’s shoulder, and whatever resolve to keep being strong you thought you had withered away, the bitter poison of definite heartbreak taking over and spreading like an incurable virus.

This was it.

You had reached your limit, there was no going back. A silent sob tears through your throat, your hand reaching to clamp over your mouth to prevent any sound from coming out. This was too much, even for you. Parading his probable relationship in front of everyone while completely forgetting to acknowledge what happened in New Year’s Eve was proving to be too cruel. Never in your life did you think Mark Lee, the person who you didn’t believe had a bad bone in his body, was capable of crushing your ribcage and whatever was inside into fine dust. 

The waters had completely pulled you under, and there was an anchor strapped to your ankle continuously dragging you down until you no longer could fight back.

You had taken for granted how sweet it was to breathe.

Eunseo is sitting on her bed, back leaning against the headboard when you storm in with your face blearing red and tearful. Her eyes catch yours and your knees buckle under the metaphorical pending weight of your heartbreak, still covering your mouth to stifle the ugly sobs reverberating against your palm. 

It was funny how amid your sinkage, the main thought going through your mind was not to alert anyone but to suffer in silence and alone. But it seemed like she wasn’t going to allow that.

You hear the clicking of your bedroom door closing followed by frantic hands grabbing your shoulders. Your best friend has shock painted all over her face, like this façade you were allowing her to witness was not one she was expecting.

“What happened?” Her voice is shaky, hands shaking your frame, “___, what the hell is going on?” There’s no strength left in you, you can’t even support your own weight, let alone verbalise the tsunami inside your chest. Eunseo lets you drop your body against her, her arms wrapping around you to cradle your head against the juncture between her neck and shoulder.

She doesn’t pry any further, and for that you are thankful. You just keep on crying quietly while her fingers run through your hair, humming a tune so soft and sweet it lulls you to sleep, the now dry tears leaving stain marks in its stead.

You wake up in the middle of the night to find yourself sharing a bed with your best friend. She is latched onto you so tightly it almost glues back the broken pieces of your heart back into place, and the protective streak it possesses brings a fresh wave of tears to your waterline, but you hold it back because you already feel too bad for ruining her — it was Jungwoo’s, actually — shirt. Sleep comes back to you once again, the headache resulting from your mental breakdown dissipating in the process. When the morning comes and both of you are awake, she lets you be the one to open up instead of being the one to poke through your sensitive state.

“I…” Red burns your cheek yet for a different reason than yesterday. You felt so disgustingly embarrassed to confess to another person about your innermost feelings, disregarding the fact this was one of the people you trusted the most. “I like someone.”

“I see,” Her reaction is neutral. She’s void of facial expression as if she’s cautious with the way she should react to your words. “You like someone. And the reason you cried yesterday was because of this person.”

You gulp, “Yeah. It was.”

“This person hurt you.” Eunseo doesn’t ask any questions. She resorts to making blanket statements to help you untangle the mess going on inside of you. As if you didn’t already love her enough.

“He did, but I don’t know if it was intentional.” You laugh low on your throat, shake your head in disbelief. “He’s so fucking oblivious about everything, I highly doubt it was.”

“What happened yesterday was prompted by something you saw, then.”

She was getting closer to unveiling the grand truth. The thrum of your heartbeat picked up as if your body was giving you a sign that even if it felt like you had drowned, it was still beating for you. You were still alive. You weren’t okay, but you hadn’t died because of it. “Yeah,” Confirming it was leeway to compressing the scope of potential people. She now knew it was someone in Jungwoo’s house.

“Okay, correct me if I’m wrong. You like someone so much it made you break down, and that said someone is currently in this house. Therefore it’s a person you and I both know quite well, except if it is either Jooyoung or Doyeon. Which I highly doubt because you haven’t known them for longer than four days, and the fact you said he.”

You scoff, flicking her on the forehead, and Eunseo tries to swat your hand away but fails. “Of course it’s not them. Who do you think I am?”

“I was just crossing people from the list,” She shrugs, “This was the easiest way. I also suppose you’re not in love with Jungwoo.”

“Eunseo! What the fuck!” You shove her now, appalled. She laughs aloud at your reaction, and it only makes you even madder. 

“Oh, bite me, will you?” She huffs before shaking her head with a grin, “It’s called process of elimination. “I have to narrow my options here. Do you want me to take a guess or do you want to tell me who the person is by yourself?”

And there it was again, the stinging of incoming tears behind your eyelids. They don’t come out, however.

You knew to cry meant you had held on for too long, but you couldn’t shake the nagging perception that it somewhat weakened you. Especially since the reason behind it was related to the mechanics of your heart. But this was Eunseo, your best friend. The person who had been there for you through thick and thin, while never belittling you for your complex way of being.

She deserved honesty. 

Even if finally admitting it to someone out loud was beyond scary.

“It’s…” You take a deep breath, “It’s Mark.”

She doesn’t show any major physical reaction to your confession, zeroes in on something behind you and keeps her gaze there for a few seconds. It’s unsettling to you, the anxiety buzzing underneath your skin as you wait for her to react.

“Oh my God,” You whine. It has been too long since she has spoken, and it was slowly getting on your nerves, “Just say something.”

She exhales loudly, her shoulders sagging, “Am I allowed to freak out?” You roll your eyes at her comment but nod nonetheless. Any reaction was better than none. “This is so exciting. I’ve been holding it in since yesterday but now I can finally lose my shit.”

“This is not exciting, Eunseo.” You frown. There wasn’t anything exciting about heartbreak. “He doesn’t like me back. These feelings I have aren’t mutual.”

“And how do you know he doesn’t like you?”

“Because yesterday he was all cuddled up next to Doyeon as if we didn’t fucking kiss on New Year’s Eve!” Thinking about it again made the anger you tried to tamper down close to surface. Mark was cruel.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Kissed?! I haven’t had time to process the fact that you even like someone, and you drop the K bomb on me like this? Tell me everything. From the beginning.”

And that’s what you do. You tell Eunseo about how you two go way back, way farther than everyone else thinks you go. 

You tell her about how your high school experience hadn’t been the best, and how Mark was the person you had always aspired to be back then. How popular and versatile he was. About how meeting him two years later had been extremely uncomfortable because a person like him wasn’t supposed to mingle with your people, yet there he had been, laughing at what Jungwoo was saying. About how you had reluctantly given this friendship thing a try, since her boyfriend was so keen on him and his friends, and since deep down you had always wanted to see how he was truly like. 

You tell Eunseo about how well you two match. How every conversation was never-ending, like an infinite, sturdy string that went for miles and miles and never stopped. How caring, and genuine he had always been, even in high school. You tell her about how little by little your resolve wore off, and his company began to feel both needed and appreciated. How on New Year’s Eve you get drunk together, and you teach him how to smoke. 

You tell your best friend how you both ended up cuddling on the rug of Jungwoo’s living room. And you tell her about how compelled you had felt to kiss him when the countdown began. Not because of some lame fucking tradition like you had tried to convince yourself, but because you really wanted to. You had never wanted anything in your life so badly.

Heartbreakingly, you tell her then about how the saddening part of the story unfolds. He doesn’t acknowledge your kiss, he doesn’t make a move, he doesn’t give you so much as an inch of leeway to convince yourself he could be feeling the same thing as you were.

By the time your storytelling ends, her hand is overlapping yours in what you consider empathy. She’s rubbing the back of it with her thumb, and the way she’s looking at you makes the lump in your throat almost lurch. You want to cry, to show how sad you were, though you don’t do it. Yesterday’s shenanigans had proved themselves to be enough — you were mentally tired. There was no more room or strength to do so.

“I can’t believe all of this happened underneath our noses and we never realised it…” She’s incredibly surprised, that much you can tell. Her face scrunches like she’s trying to remember something, and you just keep looking at her in amusement. “I seriously just thought the two of you were really good friends.”

“And we are.” You pause, remember how recently things hadn’t been that okay on your side. “Or were. I don’t know, honestly. I just feel like it will be really difficult for me to pretend that nothing is affecting me, because I have the urge to punch someone every time I see them together.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I noticed that they’re close but I just assumed it’s because they’re friends.”

“That’s such flawed logic.” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms against your chest. “You and Jungwoo were also close but there was nothing platonic about it.”

“That’s differen— Okay. You’re right. So what are you gonna’ do?”

“There’s really nothing I can do. I’ll have to get over him.” You shrug innocently, and Eunseo glares at you. She wants to call you unbearable, you know it. “Three more days to go, and then I can put my distance.”

You can tell she wants to lecture you, tell you to find another way other than giving up. But she doesn’t, in true Eunseo fashion. 

The rest of that day is spent holed up inside your room without contacting or interaction with anyone except Eunseo, who takes one for the team and keeps you company during the whole time. She tells you Mark asks for you when she gets back from getting snacks on the break between the second and third Harry Potter movie you were marathoning on Netflix. You shrug in response, drink big gulps of water as if it would drown your feelings to death.

Sometimes you wished that was possible.

Day five arrives, and the prospect of things looking up is nothing but a mere pathetic theory. Quite on the contrary, it’s on day five where everything gets worse than worst. 

Throughout the day, the interactions between Mark and Doyeon are so disgusting to your whole system that you actually end up dry heaving against the toilet, retches tormenting you as you try to make sense of the situation. You had reached the lowest of lows, the rock bottom. 

But this wasn’t you. This had never been you. Not even back in high school where you longed to belong somewhere.

The migraines had been the only constant on that trip, and they kept on becoming stronger and stronger as the days went by, much like your mood. You had gotten to the point where the only people you tolerated were Eunseo and Kino, everyone else just contributed to the hammering going inside your head.

Still, you had been able to avoid Mark.

That is until the fateful day six begins, and Jungwoo corners you in the kitchen, a furious scowl etched on his face.

“Would you care to tell me what the fuck is going on with you?” His tone is accusatory, hurtful. He’s not there to be nice, that much you had already gathered.

“Is this an intervention?” You cock your eyebrow at him, leaning your lower back against the counter. He keeps staring at you, stance aggressive. 

“Let’s call it an intervention, if you want. Why the fuck have you been acting so weird lately? Why have you turned your phone off? Why are you avoiding Mark?” He’s firing question after question, not even giving you room to process them. The way he’s handling his energy is so chaotic, it makes your blood boil underneath your skin. Jungwoo had no right to be mad at you when he didn’t make any effort to consult you about your wellbeing during this whole trip, and the moment he does, his only instinct is to spit venomous words instead of choosing a more careful approach.

“And why the fuck do you care?” There’s a fire building up inside of you, the flames licking up your throat. You’re now almost chest to chest with him, your eyes wide and vicious. If it was possible, laser beams would be shooting out of them.

“Are you serious right now? You’re my best friend, of course I care about you!”

You scoff, “Took you long enough to figure out something’s not okay.”

“You’re being so unfair.”

“Am I?” You laugh darkly, eyes roaming around the room. Jungwoo hated being left in the dark. It made him feel powerless like he wasn’t doing enough for those he loved. And you were deliberately doing what you knew would hurt him. Because that was the person you had become. “Or were you simply too occupied to realise it?”

“Now you’re just pushing it, ___.” He grits out, “I don’t know what is going on, but you’re acting like an asshole. Everyone is commenting about how you’re avoiding us. Mark is like a lost puppy wandering around because it’s like he’s the plague to you.”

The thought of Mark feeling miserable because of you is just so absurd you don’t refrain from laughing out loud sarcastically. “Mark looks absolutely fine to me. Doyeon seems to be a qualified substitute.”

“Okay, I get it now. Something happened between you two.” He says, plain and simple. You feel the blistering heat on your cheeks, and words can’t even slip from your lips because he carries on, “Honestly, I’m not really interested in knowing what happened exactly. I care about the fact that you’re being an asshole to everyone else because of it. Don’t take your anger out on someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

Shame is staining your face in such an ugly red shade you can’t even muster up the courage to look him in the eye, and fight back. Mainly because there’s nothing you can really say to him. 

“I’m putting you on shopping duty today with Mark.” He pauses, reaches for the back of your hand, and runs his finger just once against it, “Running away from confrontation is literally the worst thing you could possibly do. It will never fix things.”

He’s right, of course, and it hurts you.

It hurts you, but not because of how bittersweet truth can taste. It hurts because of all people, it had to be Jungwoo. Jungwoo, whose words had always been like rivers of honey flowing through your ears, now felt like they had blasted your eardrums off, leaving nothing but blood trickling down in its wake. This was a side of him you were seeing for the first time. But then again, this was also a side of you nobody had ever seen.

The extremes to which you had taken the situation was destroying everything around you. This vacation was supposed to be filled to the brim with beautiful memories you would never forget. Instead, you were letting your childish emotions dictate your whole persona, and disregard everyone else around you as if they didn’t exist, only him. 

You had nothing left to lose.

Maybe the truth would set you free.

For a few seconds, Mark thought he was seeing a ghost, the apparition of something supernatural right before his eyes. He was more surprised than the moment you kissed him on New Year’s Eve if that was even possible. But it wasn’t a ghost, it was you making your way to him while he waited for the person who was supposed to help him with grocery shopping. 

Now he understood why Jungwoo was acting all secretive and straight-up refusing to say who that person was.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” You sound annoyed, and he has no clue why. Actually, Mark has been in a permanent state of confusion ever since that day.

He remembers how going home after being so intimate with you felt like he had been floating in a cloud, instead of having Lucas push him by the collar and throw him on the bed. He remembers how soft and supple your lips felt, even if they had missed the initial aim because of how much of a fucking idiot he was. Everything had felt so surreal, like a dream too sweet to come true. 

But you never said anything about it or mentioned it ever again.

And Mark didn’t have the guts to invest further, because he was a scaredy-cat who felt too weak when it came to you.

“Oh. Sorry.” He makes his way to the driver’s seat, spares a quick glance in your direction only to find you staring stoically ahead. You’re wearing a navy blue cap, it sits so low on your head he can barely see your eyes, just the end of your nose and the lips he had been fantasising about for the past month.

The lips which had touched his — kind of — and since then Mark only grew defeated at the lack of response coming from you.

There was such a tense atmosphere between both of you, in comparison to how comfortable you had been around each other at the party. Everything had been going so well, Mark had never been so happy in his entire life, and in hindsight, the end of the night was just perfect. But the truth was, the kiss had been the catalyst to how distant you had become. 

No more facetime calls, no more feeling at ease whenever you both were together. And in Mark’s perspective, this trip was supposed to make the spark from the New Year’s Eve party ignite between you both again.

His expectations paled in comparison to the reality. The person he saw was avoiding him, glaring at him across the dinner table, refusing to interact with other people. Something was going on, and it was killing him not knowing why. Or worse, if he was the reason behind it all.

The eery silence ceases when you’re inside the supermarket, standing awkwardly still in front of the small magazine stall near the registers. 

“Do you have the list?” Your voice lacks any emotion, yet it still startles him. He misses talking to you freely, hearing you laugh through the speaker on his phone as he buries his face against the pillow because he’s smiling so big his cheeks hurt.

“Yeah,” He takes the folded slip of paper from his back pocket. It’s crumpled and frayed at the edges — he had been fiddling with it before he saw you. 

You clear your throat, avert your head to look at the tabloid newspapers, “We should split up, it’s quicker that way.”

“No,” He takes pride in the way his answer makes you look at him, the sternness in his voice showing. Mark wanted to be selfish for once. “I don’t want to lose you.” The pregnant pause is meant to make you think about his words, but he continues before things got too awkward, “This place is huge.”

You say nothing, but still rip the paper from his clammy hand, and storm ahead of him to find whatever was written on it.

Jungwoo’s scrawny chicken handwriting is barely legible, Mark notices once he peaks over your shoulder. You’re deliberating between two brands of rice as if it’s the hardest choice you had ever encountered in your entire life. It’s adorable, to say the least. But he doesn’t say anything, like always, because that’s what people like Mark do: they wallow in self-pity until feelings dissipate within the particles of the wind. They cower behind the false pretense of unrequited affection. They never chase their dreams to the fullest. They let them wither and fall between the cracks in the pavement.

Change scared him. Still, the thought of losing your friendship was enough to sear his heart.

So that’s why Mark was going to tread a very fine line, in hopes of at least getting back what was slipping through his fingers.

“Can we talk?”

You look over at him, a light frown adorning your face in spite of the poor attempt at hiding your face with your hat, grabbing a bottle of Coke at the same time. “We’re already talking.”

“We’re talking about groceries.”

“Are you saying groceries aren’t important enough to be considered a conversational topic?” You muse, laughing dryly right after. This indifference was starting to get on Mark’s nerves.

He strides so he’s standing right on the other side of the cart, hands holding it so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Cut the crap, ___. What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Now move.” Scoffing, you try to push the cart in your direction, but Mark tightens his hold even further so you’re unable to take it with you. “Mark. Let go. Don’t make me cause a scene right here in the middle of a fucking supermarket.”

He falters with the intensity of your voice and takes his hand off, sighing loudly, “We’re not done. I’m tired of this.”

Your head flings back violently to stare at him with the widest eyes he had ever seen. Mark finally takes note of the incredibly purple under-eye circles, the tired, dull-looking skin. The deep, heart-wrenching feeling in his gut was slowly confirming what he had been fearing: he probably was one of the reasons why you were like this, if not the only one.

“Oh, you’re tired? How sad, Mark. Maybe take your head out of your ass for once and take a hint. So many things are happening around you and you either choose to ignore it or you’re just fucking dumb enough to not realise it.”

“What do you mean?” Mark feels like he’s being stabbed all over again with every poisonous word falling from your lips. It’s not the words themselves that are hurting him, it’s the fact that he was the person who caused you to become this way and not knowing exactly what he had done.

You let out a low shriek of frustration, “Unbelievable. You wouldn’t see it even if it hit you in the head.”

“Let’s talk in the car.” He sighs. You don’t say anything back, but Mark takes the eye roll you throw in his direction as a small victory for now. The rest of the grocery shopping happens in complete silence sans the squeaky wheels of the cart and the Ed Sheeran song humming throughout the store.

Mark is dreading getting in the car with you, afraid of getting another earful of rejecting comments or worse, not being able to find out what exactly he had done for you to completely shut him out. Was it because he allowed you to kiss him while you were both not in your right state of mind? Should he had been more firm in his morals instead of giving in to what he had been wanting for the past three years?

More silence carries both of you back to Jungwoo’s house, Mark’s hand gripping the steering wheel on the way back so tightly his knuckles are ghostly white against the dark leather. The air felt stuffy, full of resentment and opportunities for new beginnings. You reckon the time to pour your heart out has come: there, inside that parked car, you were going to tell him everything without holding back. This crush had grown to lengths you had never expected, it had turned you into the shell of the girl you used to be. 

Your inferiority complex had never gone away.

“Can I ask you something?” You start off, taking the baseball cap off of your head before running a hand through your slightly greasy hair. Mark’s eyes immediately lock on yours, nods in your direction. “Did it even mean something to you? The kiss?”

“I- I thought you didn’t remember that.” He gulps, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You thought or you didn’t want me to remember?” You hate how feeble your voice sounds, how crystal clear the pain echoes with every word you say. “You know, Mark, it’s okay if you don’t like me back, the thing is that I can’t really go on any longer pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.”

Mark’s body coils like a springboard at your implied confession, his muscles tense, and the way he looks at you resembles a madman. You allow him some seconds to formulate some type of reply, yet all he does is open and close his mouth as if there is nothing he could say.

“Yeah, newsflash… I like you, Mark. I thought the kiss made it pretty obvious but then again we were drunk and high so I understand if you didn’t think too much of it.” There’s a lump sitting at the top of your throat and tears brimming in your lash line. The urge to cry is so strong now, you had never imagined that confessing your feelings to the person’s face would be so emotionally and mentally straining. “I guess I’m the one to blame because I expected you to make the next move, to show that this crush wasn’t one-sided but… Yeah… We all know how that one went, uh?”

“Anyway… This is why I’ve been distant.” You chuckle, wiping the stray tear that decided to go rogue against your will, “And as you can imagine, seeing the guy I like acting so close to another girl was bound to make me feel all types of sad. I don’t know if you’re dating or not and if you are I am sorry for telling you this. I guess I just needed to let this all out before I began moving on.”

He’s completely still, zoned out as if his body was there but his soul was absent. You’re unsure of what to make of this since you were expecting him to say something back. But maybe this was for the best, him not saying a word. It would spare you an even bigger heartbreak.

“I’ll ask the guys to come get the groceries.” You smile sadly before opening the door, leaving him confined in that tiny car alongside his thoughts.

You don’t see Mark for the rest of the day, fortunately. While in the previous days you had been the one acting all weird and evasive, now Mark had taken it upon himself to fulfill that role. It gives you time to reflect upon yourself and your situation.

Dinner that night is made by you and everyone loves it. The conversation flows beautifully between everyone, even with Doyeon: you find out the two of you have a lot more in common than you imagined. Surprisingly, the heavy burden sunk in the depths of your chest is no longer there, only a dull ache which throbbed only whenever your brain conjured any thought about Mark. You’d take that as progress. Except you can’t help yourself but think about what prompted him into isolating himself. Maybe he was too embarrassed to face you now that he knew you liked him. Or maybe he didn’t have the courage to be your friend anymore. All in all, your pride was hurt. Not having your feelings reciprocated sucked.

Later on, you watch Bird Box sandwiched between your best friends, let yourself shed a few stray tears over the sentimentality of the movie. You can hear sniffles and stifled sobs coming from Doyeon and Kino while Jungwoo holds Eunseo’s hand and brings it to his lips to gently peck it from time to time. It’s enough to make you reminisce about New Year’s Eve, about how right it felt to be with Mark in that kind of intimate setting. You want to do it again and again and again until you can’t even remember how many times you have been like that until it becomes second nature to you. But that won’t happen. So you force yourself to eradicate that painful thought from your mind and train your eyes steadily on the screen until it all blurs.

People start going back to their rooms little by little, eventually. The clock is ticking near one in the morning and contrary to what you were expecting, there’s not one ounce of exhaustion in your body. You are awake, you feel awake like there’s a buzz in your bloodstream that’s preventing you from getting sleepy. It’s as if not even your own brain wants you to stop thinking.

Lucky for your brain, you can’t stop thinking. So while everyone else is sleeping soundly in their beds, the cogs in your brain twist and turn desperately trying to formulate any reasonable explanation for everything that had happened recently. And in spite of the sting caused by rejection, your heart still called to him, pathetically so, and during this whole fiasco, you were worried about his wellbeing. You were worrying if he was hungry, thirsty, tired, either if he was crying or in need of a hug. Above your state of passion for him stood a friendship you valued tremendously; you were losing both at the same time.

The blood boiling beneath your skin makes the air around you feel too stifling like you’re in the middle of a heatwave on a July afternoon instead of a February late night where the temperature doesn’t even waver beyond 20ºC. You trudge outside to where the pool is, the moon illuminating and reflecting upon the tiny ripples of water ever so gently, just enough to showcase how beautiful stillness and darkness can be. There’s this urge within you to just dive in, even if the water is not as warm as you want it to be, and you do just that, damned be everything and everyone. 

You’re swimming in Jungwoo’s summer house backyard all by yourself in your underwear and somehow, despite the trials and tribulations of your pathetic life, you wouldn’t change anything about that moment. They are the ones that make you grow as a person, that help you shape yourself into a more mature, better version.

But moments like these are also meant to be changed. Like the way the pitch-black sky is coated with hues of pink, yellow, and orange just as dawn becomes daylight. Those seemingly slow and everlasting shifts in nature you can’t help but acknowledge: they’re meant to happen.

That’s why you don’t even flinch when you hear a small splash behind you, yet that restlessness comes to life, the one where you can feel in every fibre of your being whenever he was around. But you don’t turn around, don’t act surprised. You’re ready to embrace whatever it is that is about to come your way.

“Hi.” Mark’s voice is so soft and faint you can barely hear him. If it wasn’t for the stupid fact you like him so much to the point your chest felt like it was about to split open violently in any second, things like his uneven breathing pattern would go amiss. 

You flip around, see how sunken his face looks. It breaks your heart even further than it already was to begin with. Resisting the impulse you were having of swimming across the pool so you could hold him in your warms was proving to be the most difficult thing you had ever done. 

“Hi, Mark.”

In any other occasion, seeing Mark shirtless would be more than enough to make you go through hot flashes for the following hour, especially when you were only wearing your bra and panties, yet there was absolutely nothing sexual about this moment. You were both near-naked, stripped of barriers, of façades you put on in order to protect yourselves. At that very moment, there was only vulnerability oozing from your pores and his.

This was it. The grand finale was finally about to happen.

“How are you feeling?” You start off, lowering your shoulders inside the water to keep them warm from the breeze. “You look like shit.”

That elicits a snort from Mark’s lips followed by a gleaming smile which you can see from your spot on the other end of the pool. It’s sweet and it sticks to your memory like golden honey, reminds you of how much you have missed him in general. He was your friend before he was the one who could either make you or break you, so you yearn for his friendship way more than any other thing in the world. No one could understand you with the same intricacy and intimacy as Mark did; you would rather not be able to feel the suppleness of his lips than to lose him altogether, lose the gift of his friendship.

“Honestly?” He asks, mimicking your position and lowering his shoulders as well, “I don’t think there’s any way I can convey how I feel right now without it sounding like complete nonsense.”

This statement intrigues you. It sparks something deep within that you know it shouldn’t, but falling in love with someone brings out the person’s most vulnerable state to the forefront. A person in love will go back on their word if that means one step closer to the heart they want. “Try me,” You shrug, “I’m all ears.”

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“If this is all because of what I told you… because I like you, then I’m sorry.” You cast your eyes downwards and flick mindlessly the water around you. “I know that it’s a lot to take in and maybe it was selfish of me to let it all build up and then lay it all on you like that.”

“No,” He interjects quickly, treading the pool waters in slow but steady strides until he’s more than an arm’s reach from you. “I was surprised, yes, and it was overwhelming because that was the last thing I was expecting you to say.”

You laugh, “You were malfunctioning back there. I get it though.”

“You don’t,” He deadpans, voice solemn, “You don’t understand at all… What it’s like waiting for years to hear something and then your brain completely shuts down when it does finally happen.”

Your heartbeat is thrumming so loud you can feel it reverberating all over your body, it courses through you like a rush of blood, intensely so, that you refrain from pinching yourself. The nuances in his speech are making you feel like you’re dreaming the sweetest dream and if it was indeed a figment of your imagination, you didn’t want to wake up any time soon.

“I’ve had a thing for you since high school, ___.” He confesses, angling his body to the side as if ashamed or embarrassed or afraid. Deep down you want to laugh because there’s no reason for him to feel like that at all. You’re desperately in love with him in every intricate and complex way possible in the world. Like a galaxy and constellations, and the moons, the planets, and the stars within orbiting in sync yet light-years away from each other.

But the heavy rise and fall of your chest and the tears welling up in your eyes tell a different story.

Mark liked you back.

He continues, “And I know you used to think I was too popular to even become your friend, but that sure as hell didn’t stop me from liking you. Hell, it made me like you even more… I knew it back then and I know it now too… I really, really like you. A lot. Like, you make my heart do these funky, weird flips every time we hang out.”

You’re crying by the end of his little confession, sniffling quietly so he doesn’t notice, yet when he finally dares to lift his eyes towards yours, he sees you wiping the back of your palm against your cheek. As if it was an instinct, he crosses the space left dividing the both of you, pausing right before his hand could touch you. Like you were a dainty marble statue that could break even with the tiniest of touches.

“Shit, I’m sorry— Don’t cry, please.”

“No,” You protest, “I’m crying because I’m happy. I’m crying because I never imagined this moment would actually happen. It’s just surreal.”

His hand stutters when it finally grazes your skin, yet his thumb still spans the surface of your cheek ever so gently, ever so softly. You refuse to believe it isn’t real, these last interactions you two were sharing were so dream-like your own hand reaches up to press against his, to feel the texture of his skin, your eyes closing in the process because of how full your heart was feeling.

Mark liked you. The person you liked, liked you back. You had been torturing yourself for the past week with thoughts of not being reciprocated to the point that you felt the very core of your being dim. And it had been all for nothing because he had a thing for you way before you even considered him a friend. 

Miscommunication was such a fickle thing. This whole situation could have been avoided if the two of you had been more open about your feelings instead of repressing them in fear of the reaction of the other.

“Mark,” You say, his hand still cradling your face, “Can we hug? Is that okay?”

Mark is unable to properly reply with words to your question, only a smile breaking through his lips at the pure disbelief of how happy such words could make him feel. He doesn’t need to say anything at all, he reckons, as he lowers your hand, and his too, before snaking his arms around yours, tumbling you softly into his chest in the process.

There’s a newfound comfort in the way your face is squished against his shoulder, like every single worry that had been weighing him down had completely vanished the moment you stepped into his arms. The pounding of his heart is no longer rooted in venom, it has tiny flowers blooming along each branch and stem, a small, lovely glimpse into paradise on earth. 

A wave of nostalgia hits Mark in the gut and he can’t help but to think about New Year’s Eve, think about how similar this moment feels to the one almost two months ago yet the contrast is so very stark. Back then you were both tiptoeing around your emotions, scared of taking a leap and finding out that there’s nothing but concrete down there. Now you’re worn down, you and him, by the cluster of emotions and the lack of experience on how to handle them. Yet you’re together in whatever this is, may that be navigating through the corridors of young love or finding out what’s on the other side of the door doesn’t quite correspond to what you’ve been idealising. 

“I’m sorry,” You’ve been in an embrace for probably more than ten minutes and Mark’s voice breaks a little, right hand spanning the middle of your back, “For not being so forward… I’m not very good at this— I’ve never been. I tried, back in high school, you know? I tried but it always felt like the universe was against me. Every time I mustered the courage to do something, another person cockblocked the shit out of me.”

You bring your head back to look him in the eyes, “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not very good at this either. I had this crazy way of thinking that you were like… unreachable to someone like me. So I never expected us to become friends, let along like you or have you like me back.”

“Please,” He scoffs playfully, tightening his arms around you, “I liked you first.”

You roll your eyes, stepping out of his embrace and flicking some water in his direction, “Anyways… I’m also sorry. For being too pushy and demanding too much from you. And for ruining this whole trip for everyone.”

“I wouldn’t say you ruined the trip, just… confused the shit out of everyone, maybe?” He tries to reason, voice a little doubtful. You’re aware of how your little jealous stints made the mood a little sour for everyone, and you feel remorseful for letting such negativity consume you. Love really made you do the unthinkable.

“Jealousy is a bitch, I’ll say that.”

“Jealousy? Were you jealous?” Mark asks, curiosity splattered on his face, “Jealous of wha— Oh. No way…”

Mark has a stupid little grin on his face like he already has you all figured out, and you stubbornly, yet playfully, turn your back to him as you begin to tread back to the other end of the pool to try and get him to follow you. Maybe hug you from behind. Kiss your neck or whatever. You’d leave that for him to decide.

A giggle leaves your mouth as you hear the water swishing from behind you. You keep going until you reach the border and when you twist your body to rest your back against it, Mark is hot on your tail, immediately caging you in between his arms.

“Jealous, uh?” He’s coming across as cocky, and given the circumstances you were now, it was far from making you annoyed or turned off.

“Yeah,” You breathe out, focusing on the droplets of water gliding from his neck to his collarbones. This game was getting dangerous. “What about it?”

“What were you jealous of?” He begins, taking another step towards you until you were chest to chest. “Or let me rephrase that. Who were you jealous of?”

You’re beginning to like seeing this new side of Mark. The Mark who unveiled what he was thinking and feeling free instead of masking it behind a façade of confusion. It was making you unravel a lot more from within yourself as well, the way you were reacting to his advances and stance just proved even further the extent of your emotional and romantic involvement. 

“You were all cosy with Doyeon during the whole trip. It was so annoying.”

“Okay, first of all, Doyeon and I grew up together.”

“That’s even worse,” You roll your eyes and Mark is feeling so inexplicably elated over seeing you express something as ordinary as jealousy that he decides to be ballsy and grab you by the waist. He ought to compensate you somehow. 

The blush dusting your cheeks makes it worth it.

“I only like one person, and that’s you,” He rasps, heart skipping a beat when you put your hands on his shoulders, feel the sturdiness of his muscles.

“I know now,” You say, caressing the nape of his neck as you look up to him, a fond smile on your lips. Mark feels so overwhelmed with the urge to kiss you. Kissing you had always plagued him, but now when it was just a breath’s away he felt dizzy with the anticipation of it really happening.

“Can I—”

You don’t even give him the chance to finish his prompt, for you take the initiative and kiss him yourself, too thirsty for something you were sure you were never going to get tired of.

Mark’s lips are exactly what you had always dreamed about being, yet more at the same time. They’re soft and supple and timid, and you don’t really mind taking the lead, spanning your hand across his jaw and tilting it to the side so you can deepen the kiss. You’ve been waiting for the opportunity of properly kissing him since what feels like forever, it shows in how you press yourself against him desperately, turn him around so he’s the one being pinned against the wall.

That seems to shake him out of his shy reverie: he poises his hand against your throat to keep you in place as the rush finally kicks in and he begins to take over, tearing a gasp from you at the sudden change in dynamics. He hums low in his throat then, using it as an opportunity to add his tongue to the mix, bravado fuelled by the desperate nature of the moment.

When the heat of finally being able to kiss each other dies down, the kisses become slow and languid, the touches delicate and sweet rather than frantic and wild, until you both stop completely to catch your breath. 

“Shit,” Mark is heaving as he starts laughing crazily, “If this is a dream I’m going to be so fucking pissed.”

You begin to pepper pecks all over his face to prove a point, “This isn’t a dream, Mark Lee. We like each other.”

“And had one hell of a kiss in the middle of the night at a pool. This is going to be a cool story to tell. After I tell the New Year’s Eve one.”

“First off, this was our first kiss.” You retort, grabbing his cheeks in between your fingers to shut him up when he starts protesting, “That will not account as a first kiss, it was a sad, sad attempt at demonstrating how much I liked you.”

“I can’t believe it didn’t dawn on me back then that you liked me back.” Mark snorts in disbelief, “What can be more clear than a kiss? Jesus Christ.”

“I was honestly disappointed but not surprised, coming from you. Such a dense, dumb ass person.”

“Take it back!” He starts tickling you in retaliation, the giggles coming out of your mouth so loudly you were sure you were going to wake someone up. But that didn’t matter at the moment, the unavoidable sweetness of the occasion is all you could think about.

You and Mark eventually get out of the pool when you notice your fingers get pruney, which in hindsight should have happened way before it did. He goes inside to fetch two towels while you sit on the little deck with your legs crossed, looking at the sky before you and wondering how a little over an hour ago you were looking at the same exact spot plagued with the opposite mindset of the one you had now.

He drapes the fluffy towel over your shoulders and sits right to your left, knees knocking against yours as he gets comfortable. His hair is sticking up in every possible direction and when he turns his head to look at you you notice how dull his skin looks and the tired under-eye circles, an exact match to yours. If this was another time before now, you would feel the itch to smoothen your thumb against them yet refrain yourself from doing so, but this isn’t the then, it’s the now and you no longer feel anxious about acting upon your desires. So you do as you wish and when Mark grabs your wrist to kiss it absentmindedly, you feel like nothing in the world could ever bring you down from the state of mind you were going through.

You and Mark stay together outside just until your underwear stops sticking obscenely to your body, not even saying anything to each other. The comfort in being around someone in complete silence, namely the person you love, warms you to your very core like there’s a fire gradually burning in the pit of your stomach, not strong enough to hurt you but not soft enough to go unnoticed.

“Mark?” You say when Mark slides the patio door open to go inside. He turns back to look at you with that facial expression you had grown to love instead of hate, the one where it truly looked like he was unreadable. 

“Lord knows if I wait for you to do this I’ll be fifty before it happens.” You laugh dryly, gaining momentum and courage, “Do you— Will you be my boyfriend?” 

His eyes widen in response and he stays frozen in place, much like what happened in the car. This was not happening again, not on your watch. “Are you having another mental breakdown? What I meant was— Do you… Do you like me enough to maybe like, want to date me?”

The cogs in Mark’s brain kick back to life the moment your voice becomes small as if you’re beginning to feel uneasy and uncertain about the situation. He really needs to work on how he reacts to positive events.

“Shit, yeah— I, yeah. I do.” He says hurriedly, fumbling for the right words, “Let’s do this thing. Let’s date.”

You duck your head to hide your smile inside the towel, but Mark notices it either way. It makes him all fuzzy inside, cotton-candy hearted. 

“Okay,” You tiptoe quietly until you’re right in front of him, reach for the back of his neck so you can press a quick peck right on the lips. “Goodnight.”

Mark blushing at you kissing him is a wonderful sight you want to see repeatedly. 

Contrary to what you think, you don’t dream about anything at all. It’s like you’re now catching up to all of the sleep that you had lost in the past, blacking out the second your head hits the pillow.

You were now going back to reality, back to civilisation. Back to having a routine and a schedule and abiding by it. For the first time in a long time, you were actually looking forward to it. 

Since Mark was on your side.

Literally and figuratively. 

To the others, the fact that Mark and you are sitting next to each other in Jungwoo’s car on the way back home was just pure coincidence, but Jungwoo knows what’s up. In fact, he didn’t even need to do much digging. He was such a light sleeper he had woken up in the middle of the night due to some strange sounds coming from his backyard. At first, he was afraid someone had broken in, even going the extra mile to grab the baseball bat from the kitchen.

But when he peeked through the glass door leading to the outside, what he saw left him in a state of disarray for only a few seconds before it settled in and he saw you smiling, giggling, and Mark beaming at you. Deep down he always knew something was bound to happen between you two, and he didn’t know the extent of your circumstances, but he was glad whatever happened before now was a done deal. 

You deserved to be happy.

“No funny business back in there, ___.” Jungwoo says loudly, bumping his arm against Eunseo’s.

“What?!” You gasp, quietly sneaking away the hand you had inside of Mark’s hoodie pocket, “What are you even talking about…”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll talk later, missy.” He replies, amusement in his tone, “You better not complain ever again about Eunie and I being all up in each other’s business. I’ll revoke your best friend privileges right away. And you,” He glares at Mark, “No breaking my best friend’s heart unless you want to end up like a headless chicken.”

“I…” Mark gulps, his trademark bug eyes widened to the max, “Yes, sir.”

Everyone except Mark (and Vernon, who had fallen asleep the second his head hit the window) start laughing at his response and a few moments later he ends up joining in. He looks at you then, holds his hand in front of you expectingly, and when you interlock your fingers right in the middle of his, he ends up putting both your hands inside the hoodie pocket once again, a big, goofy smile plastered on his face as he drops his head against your shoulder, shuts his eyes close, and snuggles closer.

You peck his temple affectionally, because well, you loved him. A lot. You weren’t afraid of acknowledging it any longer, even if you hadn’t told Mark how deep your feelings ran for him, even if there was a possibility he took a little longer to come to that conclusion as well. You just really, really loved him and everything that entailed being in love with him. Your mind goes back to that time where you tried so desperately to root obstacles between the both of you, for you belittled yourself so much and put him in such a high pedestal, avoiding constantly the slightest chance of interacting with him. Mark wasn’t stuck up or anything of the sort, he had never been that kind of person. It wasn’t his fault your high school experience hadn’t been like his. It wasn’t his fault that he had what he had. And maybe it wasn’t your fault either, but you shouldn’t have assumed he’d be iffy about getting to know you. About becoming your friend. Because those were your insecurities coming afloat and projecting onto Mark what you wanted him to be, so it would be easier for you to detach yourself from him, to not sympathise or like him.

Well, you had failed miserably at that. Gladly so.

You could only be a dumb ass for so long.

“You’re late.” 

“The bus—”

Mark sighs, “The bus arrived earlier than you expected. I know.” 

“Yeah,” You beam at him, kissing him softly. “Hi.”

“Hi, baby.” He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, “Let’s go, the guys are waiting for us.”

You grab his hand as both of you start walking from the bus stop to Jungwoo’s apartment. “We’re still leaving after the movie ends, right?”

“Yes, don’t worry.” He bumps his shoulder lightly into yours teasingly, “You’ve been so frisky lately, Jesus Christ. Can’t wait until you have me all to yourself, uh?”

“Mark!” You gasp, stopping in your tracks to hit him in the chest. He giggles at your feeble attempt at hurting him, “Okay, let’s not go to my house later, then.”

“Noooooo,” He whines, enveloping you in his arms and tightening them so you can’t leave, “I was only joking. You know I, uh… I like it when we’re alone.”

“You seem to like it too much if I remember correctly.”

Three months had flown by in the blink of an eye, so quickly you didn’t even realise it until Mark texted you one day with a screenshot of Lovedays, an app that showed how many days you had been dating with your significant other, and the number 100 was staring right back at you. A lot had happened in the span of that time since it was the first relationship for the both of you a lot of trial and error had taken place during the first weeks. That pent up flame you felt had been completely let out that time at the pool, which was followed up by a bit (read: a lot) of the awkwardness of navigating through intimacy and sentimentality for the first time.

Especially when Mark’s so clumsy and his brain runs one hundred miles an hour. But you had gotten used to it. Just like he had gotten used to your incessant rants about what you’re learning in your most interesting class, even if they leave him confused 99% of the times. Mark said you confused him in general.

You called it compromising.

“Shh…” He puts his hand across your mouth, “You’re being too loud.”

You strike back by putting your tongue out and licking his palm and he yelps in surprise, pulling it back, “Oh, now you don’t want to talk about it.”

He goes back to holding your hand“, You know I’m not very vocal about… that stuff.”

“Oh, you’re vocal alright, Mark Lee.”

“La, la, la!” He screams childishly, and you roll your eyes playfully at his antics, “I can’t hear you!”

When you arrive at Jungwoo’s, only Eunseo is there, as per usual. While getting a boyfriend had changed some of the dynamics in your life, some things would never change, like your friends scheming into making you arrive on time. Or three-way hugging Jungwoo and Eunseo in a way Mark never understood how it was done, yet respected. 

Or how college was proving itself to be the best timeframe of your life. 

Sure, things weren’t perfect, though we can’t expect them to be something that isn’t by all means achievable. You still had a long way to go, growing up and maturing was a never-ending process and every day that went by you learned something new either about the world or yourself.

Yet the very imperfectness of it all was what made it all worth it. In spite of every trial and tribulation that life had thrown or was going to throw at you, you’d face it with vigour and strength.

Because you were happy. 

[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

(My response is below the dashed line)

hey, so. this is gonna be a long ass post i think, at least is long enough that tumblr’s inbox doesn’t approve. it’s just, at first i started reading this series bc the summary of medicine felt like the rest of fics of this kind, they hook up, go through some angst, make up, happy ending, an easy read basically. i was expecting it to be like the rest of them, it’s also a type of fic i’m not fond of, i don’t dislike them but i don’t seek them out you know? but it sounded interesting and medicine was so well written and the scene with hunk and pidge on the car left me wanting more... so i started reading the rest. i checked up the lovesick series and at first i was confused by the chapter format (1 chap of addition and the next is on side effects and so) but as i got more and more invested this type of format actually helped me to see the story from both sides more clearly. i spend three whole days reading every single word that was posted non-stop, finishing the chapters on ao3 and going straight up to tumblr because i couldn’t believe what a masterpiece, deserving of being one of the best works on this fandom, the lovesick series was. i was blown away, it felt like i was 10 yo again and i just found a book that i needed to finish as soon as i can or i couldn’t be able to rest. you made me feel a rollercoaster of emotions all the way, made me see how nothing, and i repeat nothing, is black or white in this life. how the communication is important. what i’m trying to say is, i’ve learnt a lot with your work.

i’ve learnt about all type of relationships, familial, friendship, romantic ones... i’ve learnt that we need patience with people, that we can’t drown on resentment, that we have to listen. that not all of us communicate the same way or know how to do it properly, to look closely for tiny details someone is showing us but we’re not paying attention to. more times that i can remember i found myself remembering scenes from lovesick when there’s a problem in real life, remembering how they solved it and applying into the real life situation and it worked, because it’s something i learnt from a fic but it’s something that /happens/. it’s not fiction. that’s way i undoubtedly feel like this work is reality put into words.

lovesick taught me to always think of remembering to try and see things from all the perspectives, to not get stuck into one point of view without thinking. and yeah i know i sounds like before i was a human being with no sympathy which (i hope) i wasn’t, i actually always looked for the other’s person well-being first but, i’m not sure how to explain it, now is like i’m more calm about it?? you know how one of my last asks was about how i feel hurt for keith? it’s because that. i was like keith at first, acting impulsive and lost, but now everything’s just feel.... more mature. idk, sorry i’m being weird.

i also want to thank you for showing me how a healthy relationship should work, like i said i apply a lot of things i learnt from lovesick to my irl relationships, i never had a romantic partner and i always kind of freaked out about thinking about it but now i feel like it’s not really a big deal? like i’m gonna be okay? don’t get me wrong, i still freak out a lot about it but now i feel more relaxed!!

so anyway, sorry for this bible, thank you for sharing your writing with us, for teaching me so much and i hope you keep doing so! aaaand now im going back to my cave so i can die from embarrassment, have a good day!!❤️

((btw i wrote this on one go so it’s probably really messy and confusing but i needed to get this out ;;))

---------------------

Oh god. Oh man, okay. Uh. Whoa. I’m also writing as I think hence the..sloppiness. 

Just. 

God. Wow. I’m so- i don’t even know. I really dont know how to explain it. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that this fic has managed to affect someone as much as it’s affected you. I get whiplash hearing (or reading) it be described as a masterpiece or “the best fic in the fandom.” But it makes me so ridiculously happy that someone thinks so. 

I just. Thank you so so much for taking the time to write all of this to me. However messy, it really means a lot to me because I guess. I mean it can be hard writing fanfiction. It’s not something I get paid for, so all that time put into it isn’t really acknowledged in a way that lets me pay my bills, but I do it because I like writing and its fun and i make my own rules. And this community that has come from it has been so encouraging and amazing and I guess. When I get feedback like this, I guess it just feels like proof that regardless of getting paid or not, I’m making an impact. Which has always been the dream. To leave a legacy behind with my words, to affect someone the way that books used to affect my life, to be someones getaway when life is just too much. And messages like these are so validating because it doesn’t matter if this writing isn’t on a shelf at B&N, I’ve still managed to do that! I’ve managed to reach people in states and countries outside of mine! I’ve reached my dream. 

So don’t apologize for a long message or a messy one. When I say it means a lot, I really mean it. The words “It means a lot” suck to encompass the feeling but. I like rereading messages like this when I’m in a bad place and they all sort of reel me back from the edge. So thank you. Thank you so so much <3