#like he’s geeky yes but he’s not that ‘WeLl AcTuAlLy’ kid

[stardust-sunset]

🤓

literally give this enoji a curly red afro and freckles and it’s fanon kyle

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Screw everything else inject On1y into my damn veins

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Aug 2024 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Monster Next Door (Thai Thurs Gaga ) eps 5-6 of 12 - Extreme introvert dealing with a very hot, very drunk, very affectionate extrovert was an excellent experience all around. “I was drunk and talking out of my ass, but I wasn’t lying” maybe one of the world’s greatest confessions. How meta that he’s checking out the book of the story that he’s in. Carry on boys, very enjoyable, very Thai BL.

My Love Mix-Up Th (Fri YT) ep 12 fin - It’s cute. They are all very cute. I do like it when high school BL gives us a coming out sequence. I know it’s old-fashioned, but it’s a trope that goes with this particular setting really well, and I just like it when it’s done nicely. I’m not sure I needed it to totally dominate the final episode of the series. But it was fine.

I gotta say, Fourth is an absolutely outstanding actor. He really did knocked it out of the park in this last episode especially. 

In conclusion:

It was fine and it was charming, but it was also a little lackluster. Thailand managed to take one of Japan's softest cutest most bonkers BLs in recent memory and make it softer and cuter and... dull. They did this by watering it down. JBLs almost always have an edge to them, even the rom-coms, by dulling the edge, MLMU lost a great deal of the sparkle and tension as well. What an office setting managed to mostly maintain in the consummate hands of TayNew felt somewhat lackluster when handed off to the next generation and a high school setting. Cherry Magic was a lovely reinterpretation, Mix Up was an amateur's watercolor rendition of a colorful oil painting. Am I being harsh? G4 tried their best, and Fourth turned in some outrageously good acting in the latter half. But the show? It was fine. If you like water colors and you haven't seen (and loved) Kieta Hatsukoi. 8/10

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (Fri iQIYI) ep 8 fin - This was the first hint we got that the lead's relationship was anything more than sexual. And it was utilized for a breakup?! JJ and Wan's friendship is the best thing about this show. PWan selling JJ out to Methas was great. I was modestly delighted by the big fuck off ownership engagement ring. I admire a boy who likes to mark his territory with bling. I actually thought this was a decent final episode. If very rushed. I know, in general this ending was objectively weak, but I grinned the entire time, so I can’t really complain that much.

Final thoughts?

A story about a kid who infiltrates a cooking competition under false pretenses and then has to deal with the consequences when he falls in love with the head chef. The side couple is a poor little rich boy meets physical therapist (morality chain). The core friendships are excellent and the chemistry cannot be faulted across the (charcuterie) board. What this show lacks in substance it makes up for in health code violations. It was all chili all the time. Considering that the plot centered on betrayal but the romantic relationship never sweetened enough to balance that bitterness; one could be forgiven for throwing this one in the compost. But I got over all its weaknesses in flavor balancing for an ultimately satisfying meal, with a great dessert course. I've always loved spicy food. Plus the blooper reels were fantastic. 8/10

Addicted Heroin (Thai Tues WeTV) ep 2 of 10 - I like the side couple a lot. It’s nice to see that dynamic developed (as it wasn't in the CBL version). Of course, Thailand leans into a secondary couple, but I also like the super popular jock + geeky boy who couldn’t care less. You know what? I’m actually really enjoying this. And yes, I AM biased because it's August. (Wait, that could be taken several different ways this month. But you know what I mean.) Anygay, this is a lot softer than the original, and so Hero is much more of a pining character and less harsh. But I'm still enjoying it. I like the stepbrothers trope (we don’t get it very much from Thailand), and I enjoy the beats and pulses of this particular story. We will see if it derails into inconsequence and lack of conflict the way My Love Mixup did.  

Sunset X Vibes (Sat iQIYI) ep 11 of 12 - I’m enjoying this show but it should’ve been just 10 eps. It’s feeling bloated at this juncture. That said, I loved our little GL kiss. Very pretty. I also really like the bit with Sam and Yo flirting with each other. Sam trying to get Yo to call him P'Sam was fucking brilliant. And then slipping in all of those nongs. Delightful. Linguistic negotiation, it's what's for dinner... along with Sam's d**k apparently. I frankly did not think they would take this couple that far. So, thank you very much everybody involved.

Battle of the Writers (Sun YT) ep 4 of 12 - I do enjoy watching Yim freak out and fall in love all over again. The reality is still better for me than the fantasy parts, but it’s all fun enough. The magic mushrooms bit was odd. In fact, there is definitely a core tenor of ODD going on with the show. Which I’m accustomed to from Japan but I’m not really sure about from Thailand. Thus I remain engaged but suspicious of this BL. 

I Saw You in My Dream (Weds Gaga) ep 6 of 12 - Yu wants to take his baby on a trip, gets thwarted by his younger brother. Ouch. I really do think it’s time for Ai to tell Yu what’s going on with his dreams! Drunken boyfriend bolster pillow is a fav trope of mine. As usual, I’m catching second lead syndrome. What? I liked the rich boy badminton player. And then he picked up a guitar. Oh well.

The Trainee (Sun YouTube) ep 8 of 12 - No one cares about the hets. He was jelly? Cute. Also kinda an arse, by hey this is BL. 

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

The On1y One (Taiwan Thurs Gaga) eps 1-2 of 12 - announced in 2023, high school, stepbrothers, and is reputed to be high heat. Based on a novel Mou Mou + the Your Name Engraved Herein team.

ARE YOU READY? I'M GOING TO NOT SO QUIETLY LOSE MY DAMN MIND

This is old-school BL and it’s bloody fantastic. Tsundere seme to beat all tsundere (smartest + tallest + bestest at everything but people) meets socially-ept cutie smart-ass protag.

They living together by end of ep 1 and start kissing by end of ep 2.

There is an Unknown quality to this, and that I love. Also, and ironic to say this while Addicted Heroin Th is airing, but this REALLY reminds me of Addicted. It’s so fucking good. I am all in on this show. Shut up while this eats my life.

Cosmetic Playlover (Japan Tues Gaga) eps 5-6 of 8 - Of course! The POV shift to the seme character at ep 5! How could I forget? Japan loves this beat! AND.... The running of the gays. And a use of a first name! So darling. Also some crazy great communication and conversation that is NOT a hallmark of Japan. Sahashi is so very possessive. I loved the switch that went on in his brain and the mania in his eyes when he thought someone else was interested in Natsume. I continue to love this.

I Hear the Sunspot AKA Hidamari ga Kikoeru (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 10 of 12 - I’m never going to like Maya. Sorry. And the leads were separated for most of this episodes so it was largely disappointing. I did like the insight into the way T sees the world, and sees the alienation of a disability and what it's dong to his friend. It’s very empathic. He’s such an appealing character in his obtuse bull-headed way.

Seoul Blues (Korea Fri? YouTube) ep 2 of 8 - It’s intriguing, and I'm happy to have anything from Korea on my dash. But, like Blue Boys, I’m not entirely sure if I like it or not.

First Note Of Love (Taiwan Mon Gaga) eps 3-4 of 12 - This may be Taiwan but I’m still in the "no singing" camp. I’m getting a slightly better chemistry feel off the leads in this episode. I’m not sure if they’re keeping it stiff because the younger character is under age or if it’s just that the actors aren’t there yet? (In other words is this a directing choice or a performance issue?)

Takara's Treasure AKA Takara No Vidro (Japan Mon Gaga) ep 8 of 10 - I've finally come down firmly on the fact that it’s the uneven power distribution (in terms of interest and enthusiasm for the relationship) that I dislike about this show. Generally, I like a power dynamic differential, kinky and all that. But this particular dynamic, when it’s the weaker personality that’s so much more into the stronger one? I never like it, unless it engages a serious pivot at some point. (See My Personal Weatherman or Takara & Amagi.)

It's airing but...

Sugar Dog Life (Japan Sun grey) ep 3 of 10 - I was really loving this one but I can't find ep 3 anywhere so I guess I gotta wait it out. I hope I get to see it eventually.

4 Minutes (Sat Gaga) eps 1-6 of 8 - Gaga picked this one up so we can watch it there. If I have time, I'll get caught up and put it into rotation.

In case you missed it

Meet You at the Blossom (China) - I'm eating crow, binging the fucker, and live blogging.

The Time of Fever AKA Unintentional Love Story 2 (Korea movie) trailer IS COMING IN SEPTEMBER!!!! (Yeah this is gonna sit here until then).

Next Week Looks Like This:

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

Coming Next Month:

The Time of Fever (Korea)

9/1 Live in Love (Thai)

9/3 Happy of the End (Japan)

9/6 Kidnap (Thai)

9/7 The Hidden Moon (Thai)

9/9 Jack & Joker (Thai)

9/14 Love Sick 2024 (Thai)

9/17 Love is Like a Poison AKA Doku Koi: Doku mo Sugireba Koi to Naru (Japan)

More deets next week. It's late and I'm tired.

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

It was pretty. I am very shallow.

Even more pretty. Petition to have Tenon with his shirt off and hair back in every subsequent Thai BL? Just because.

(SunsetXVibes)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are a pain.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

Sigh, Tumblr in its infinite wisdom doesn't like too many tags.

[dnpbeats]

drop the dan loving goblin phil essay rn

(in reference to my tag on this post)

OKAY SO! In BIG dan says this about phil: "And this is when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe. [...] Especially to anyone that has experienced the kind of self-hatred that I have dealt with, one person accepting you can make all the difference" (ty @goldenpinof for the transcript 🕺). Now obviously, this is in the context of dan being gay so for the most part he's referencing his sexuality here when he talks about being accepted, and I am not trying to undermine that at all. But I think that phil's acceptance of dan went deeper than just his sexuality (goblin Phil comes into this I promise lol).

dan also talks a bit in BIG about how he was nerdy and was bullied for that before he was bullied for being gay. He's also mentioned other times how being nerdy/geeky didn't use to be accepted. In the 4/13 stereo show, dan says: "Before YouTube, if you were a nerd, you felt like you weren't a valid member of society unless you were, like, captain of the football team or whatever. [...] Now, thanks to social media, it's like 'oh, okay, well if someone like Hank Green can exist, I'm fine.'" What's extra interesting about this example specifically is that dan is talking about representation in response to a fan prompting him to talk about queer representation in media. So like, yes the majority of dan's struggles in accepting himself were surrounding his sexuality, but I do also think there was a layer of being a nerdy kid at a time when it wasn't cool or fun that added onto him not accepting himself. And I do not think that that's completely separate from his nonacceptance of his sexuality.

So, what exactly does this have to do with dan expecting phil to be super debonair and then having those expectations shattered? But then still wanting phil, arguably even more than he did before? Well, I think that phil was (and is) unapologetically himself, and that was inspiring for dan to see. dan said in BIG that he didn't meet an out gay person until he was 18, so either that person was phil himself or he met phil shortly afterwards and phil was therefore one of the first out gay people dan knew. and we know from phil's coming out video that he wasn't ashamed of his sexuality at that time. but phil's acceptance of himself goes beyond his sexuality, like just look at his YouTube content at the time. he was doing experimental stuff that was weird as shit (I don't mean that in a bad way I like his old vids!). most people probably would not have the confidence or self-assurance to make the stuff he was making, let alone post it. and then, beyond that, he was just a nerdy guy himself! but it was something that he openly talked about online and we know he and dan bonded over video games/tv shows/etc.

And now let's think about this from dan's perspective. He's been watching this guy's videos forever. He's been talking to him online for the past couple of months, and while he was talking with phil (rather than "amazingphil"), I'm sure there was still that element of like "wow holy shit I can't believe I'm talking with amazingphil!" Hence why dan says in the mean girls video that he was expecting phil to be all "hi, I'm amazingphil! 😏" when they first met (also side note, when dan starts to make this joke phil starts doing it at the same time, so I'm sure this is a discussion they've had before lol). but Phil wasn't like that!!! he was all hunched over and awkward and dorky! because he was nervous!! BUT he wasn't ashamed of that. he wasn't trying to put on some AmazingPhil™ Smooth Operator Refined front. He was just himself. Unapologetically so. And for dan, I think that that meant so much in terms of accepting himself, but also feeling accepted. because how was he going to believe phil when he said "dan I love you for who you are" if phil was hiding himself around dan?

So yeah, I think that's why dan saw goblin phil, not amazingphil, and was still like "yeah I want to build my life with this person." Because for him, phil represented self-acceptance and being accepted and a safe place and someone who he could be on the same wavelength with and true unconditional love and someone he can geek out with and someone who will let him yap for an hour about whatever the hell dan has decided to talk about that day. of course he would like phil more than whatever version of amazingphil he had built up in his head. because phil loves dan for who he truly is and dan loves phil for who he truly is :)

[uskomatontakinkohan]

What if I hadn’t desided to follow Jesus?

I mean I made the desision independently, i did not grow up in Christian household. I just sort of happened to find myself in a Christian kids summer camp and gave my life to Christ at 8 years old and it sort of just happened from there on. My mother was worried at first because I was trying to baptise my friends with the Holy Ghost. Still not sure if she was right. I mean. Was i brainwoshed? Or did I really find the truth. Anyway, back to my question.

If I had not ended up on that Christian summer camp and never acsepted Jesus. And never got a hold on a copy of a Bible.

I wonder. When I was in class 6 some boys began to bully me. For no reason. I wasn’t cool. Geeky fat kid. Anyways I got debressed and suicidal by the time I went to class 8. I remember thinking that I wish I could just lie on the rail tracks. But I felt that Jesus would not want that. I began to talk to Jesus more and got through the difficult times somehow. Would I have done something to myself if I had not had this real or imagined relationship with this Jesus person. I don’t know. Maybe I would have chickened. But the idea of someone being there did no doubt help me.

Around those times I started to figure out my sexual orientation, as one does. I noticed I had crushes on not only boys but to girls also. I even confessed these feelings to one of my best friends. Did not go well. She was deep in the closet at the time herself and rejected me harshly. Well I tell that to my ego. I don’t want to admit that I was so repulsive to her that she could not just politely decline. Anyway, I think had I not been Christian I might have at least had that first kiss with a girl. But those times lgbtq+ affirming churches and theology was hard to find. I guess I will never know that side of myself because I then went and married. At age 19.

Yes we are still married. Happily I think. Getting better actually. But thinking back had I been non-believer I don’t think I would have rushed to marry. And not with this man. One of the reasons I married him was that he was very serious Christian. I’m pretty sure that would not have been a selling point to a non-believer me. So yeah, I would have experienced single life longer.

Would I have found love elsewhere? Maybe. I’m having a hard time imagining how it would have all ended up. Dates with boys and girls? Maybe pursued a career of an artists? Probably a very unhinged one to that matter. I always feel like my faith is limiting my artistic choices and I sensor myself because the stuff I want to draw is not erm nice and cute and cuddly most of the time.

I probably would not have gone …erm pescatarian (I wanna say vegan but I have a problem. I will talk about that another time) because I felt convicted that modern animal agriculture is against the will of God. Then again if I had gone vegan as non believer it would have been more straight forward. After all I would not have to go through the troubling topics of Jesus eating fish and God promising a land full of milk and honey to Israelites.

And I think as non-believer I would have consumed way more fanfics. Ah, who am I kidding, it would be just the same. But I could have written my own without guilt. I have a some things in my table drawer that I’m sort of afraid to finish because of the nagging questions of moral (the main issues being faul language, hint at marihuana use and mm / ff romantic scenes). I wish I could just tell myself that it’s all ok, it’s just fiction. It’s not a sin. It’s just harmless fun. But like I said I’m afraid. Not only afraid of the judgement from my community but also from God. What if God is not chill about this?

Lately I have been thinking that God is probably not real. Like evidence is clear. I’m just afraid to let go. God is still kinda helpful for my mental health. But let’s say I left faith. My husband would not take that lightly. He would be absolutely devastated. I’m sure he would keep inviting me to church. As for all my friends they are Christian so would be hard relating with them. Would have to find an atheist group. Not sure they even exist in Ghana.

I would probably join the local vegan movement. Vegans here are mostly Rastafarians which my husband absolutely loaths. Well, that would probably make our relationship even worse. The divorce getting even more likely. If we were able to work it out then life would probably continue pretty much the same. Minus the Sunday church for me. More time to read or make art.

Or say the marriage did not survive. Would probably move back to Finland and start afresh. No idea, kinda hoping that will not happen. I don’t want to lose him. We have been together for almost 20 years. It’s hard to imagine living alone or with someone else. I mean come on my brain wasn’t fully developed when we married. I have grown with him.

So yeah. Hard things. I really want God to be real and I feel he is real sometimes (because he is the mental support I’ve built to myself, the one thing that keeps me sane and gives me strength); just wishing he was more, you know, less homophobic. Because there is no way around it Bible is homophobic. That was the way things were in ancient Israel and God did use to be just a tribal God of one particular nation with their own culture and moral views. But I stand to be corrected. (Please someone please correct me.) without this issue it would be so much easier to be a professing Christian.

In summary: I believe and don’t believe in God at the same time. I wish I could change the Bible a bit. I wouldn’t be a better or worse person without God but might have had harder time with my depression. Maybe I would have found the strength elsewhere. Who knows.

So erm God, thanks. You have really helped me out. I don’t understand some of your rules though. Hope you can forgive me. Or if I’m just not interpreting correctly, could you please be a bit more specific. Thanks. Love you. Hope you’re out there.

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 100 (Downfall Part Two!)

ACTUAL SAM ad nonsense, this time. Okay, then ... awwwwww ... this is actually really cute ... Liam: "You're the fakest person I know ... you don't have a genuine bone in your body ..." LOL Yeah, that's it, nice save. That was actually quite adorable, even if Liam WAS a little ... less than SWEET with his choice of words. I'm looking at YOU, O'Brien. (I am joking, of course, for those who DON'T get irony ...)

Oh yeah, in truth Sam really HASN'T lost his touch and it's great. Even though it's at Marisha's expense ... XD

"And there's a POCKET!" The way Laura said that was too good ... LOL

Yeah, I expected the stand-up from Matt this time ... hello again, Brennan ... and he's as geeky as ever. I love it ... "Everyone's laughing it up but I am DEADLY FUCKING SERIOUS, okay?"

Chamber of Secrets? Yeah, no ... Brennan: "HBO! No, no, I'm sorry!"

So, the first roll of the evening ... 30? Blimey ... off to a great start, definitely ...

Oh, she's a JOLLY little halfling, isn't she? Yeah ...

The Emissary: "You. Made. Her. Saaaaaaad ..."

What happened in Vasselheim? That didn't sound good ...

An object wrapped in cloth? Something new, seemingly hidden but not well? Oh, that's suspicious. Careful with that, Ayden ... a prayer to "the family that we used to be" ... hmmm ... oh ... that's interesting ... someone's prayed to the Dawnfather here? Recently?

Hallis? Who's that?

An ARCHMAGE?!!! Intriguing ... oh, so it was to the Everlight? also interesting ... so it IS a book of the gods ... a really really OLD one ... whoa, this is PRE-Age of Arcanum? Wow ...

Locate Magic? Or a tracking spell? Hmmmm ...

Umleta: "Is this part of the plan, or are you asking me for a favour?" Trist: "Yes."

Oh yeah, go Raven Mother about-to-die second sight ... aha, so is this kid still alive? Is this something that Emhira COULD fix?

So there's a hospital close? That must be it, then ...

Yeah, I was thinking this too ... if they win an ally in this, they could circumvent a lot of greif in this plan ... Trist's plan could definitely make things a liot easier for them ...

Ayden: "I'm having a difficult time, I like him but also quite despise him ..." Taliesin: "Welcomg to Thanksgiving!"

Disperse and split up, then ...

Sphere of Invisibility. Okay ...

Oh ... a tragic love story? And I was already so compelled about Asha ... also I'm definitely liking that she's bonding with the Emissary ...

The Emissary: "Her first forest ... for you ..." Asha: "That would be a better gift. How typical."

Yeah, she really is hungry ... EVERYTHING'S hungry, apparently ... hmmm ... O.O

Wait ... a SENTIENT lock? Weird ... oh, is it some kind of Aeormaton? Cool ... did it just FLIRT with SILAHA? Interesting ...

Chorus? Okay ... of boy, wow, SILAHA is definitely a little too into this particular facade, aren't they?

So it's some kind of bizarre Aeormaton speakeasy? Weird ... and it's a bit kinky too, apparently ... O.O

Umleta: "You are a clown." SILAHA: "Go join the circus, then."

Apparently SILAHA is having trouble letting go ...

That Aeormaton/elven lesbian engagement was incredibly romantic, ain't gonna deny ...

Oh yeah, 4X is fascinating already ... a stiff? Hmmm ... milk and honey? Sounds suspicious ...

Crap ... the imp is onto them ... Emhira: "Imp ... in my boobs ..." SILAHA: "Oh dear ..."

Slith ... hmmm ... I would already die for this adorable little letch ... clearly he likes Emhira VERY MUCH ...

Command? Oh, here we go ... Wisdom save of 19? Okay ... nice ...

A planetar? So definitely an angel, then ... and SILAHA already has them under his thumb ... oh ... for one round only ... crap ...

Roll Initiative? OF COURSE ...

Hold Monster? Nice ... good choice, Abubakar. Brennan saves ... Abubakar: "I'm gonna use a Lucky!" Of course you are. XD

Shadow Blade and Boots of Haste combo means Laura gets another action ... so Emhira hacks away! 29 DEFINITELY hits ... 12! OF COURSE this thing bleeds gold ... and she's a Warcaster? Wow ... second attack, then ...

SILAHA is going to LITERALLY bend the reality of the space around them to trap this guy ...

Wow ... so that LITERALLY just ended JUST LIKE THAT ... cool. Yeah ... OF COURSE nobody else REALLY saw that ...

Meanwhile the door LITERALLY SWALLOWED the angel ...

Oh yeah, those two demons WOULD just brick it, wouldn't they? Nice defuse, at least ... and that's a break then so Brennan can take a dump, I suppose ...

Over to Trist and Ayden, then ...

Somehow I doubt he really NEEDED to PRAY n order to melt that lock ... mostly he was just doing it to be an arsehole, I reckon ...

Emergency, yeah ... definitely the smart word in THIS environment ... 21 persuasion? Yeah ... not here? I kind of doubt that ... and it doesn't SEEM like it either ... another persuasion check? 25 this time ... Ashley's rolling HARD tonight ...

Archmage Previn? Okay, there we go then ...

Oh, this play is FANCY, yeah ...

Here he is, then ... poor kid's in a STATE, clearly ...

Graygill's Wasting? Sounds nasty ...

Aha! This would be Previn, then ... Cassida? Yeah, first names might be smart right now ...

The book? Oh, okay ... that's a risky move ...

Okay, yeah, figured she was a worshipper.

Oh yeah, get rid of that cranky git ... Milo: "It ever follows."

Trist uses Lay On Hands to remove his disease ... is this actually gonna work? Oh shit ... is she too broken for it to really succeed? Hmmm ...

That's right, Previn, you're in the presence of the Everlight herself ... so the kid's HEALED and now has 70 hit points ... wow ... O.O

Hallis: "I'm hungry ..." Yeah, you bet his mum just bursts into tears ...

Milo! You massive prick! Teach him a lesson, Ayden.

Channel Divinity? So Ayden's just on a healing tour, then ...

Well, that seems like a very ... humbling lesson ...

So ... Archmage Previn is DIRECTLY involved in this great undertaking of Aeor against the gods, then? So this is potentially a VERY helpful development, then ...

Wait ... is she trying to SABOTAGE this weapon?

The Society of Primes? Sounds helpful ... maybe they DO have some allies here, then ...

Oh dear ... yeah, this might NOT work out how they'd like after all, then ... oof ...

Back to Asha and the Emissary, then ...

A lone single tree ... at once beautiful and foreboding, really ...

One more hour of their Sphere of Invisibility ... so maybe just try a stealthy infiltration, then ...

"A gift of the Golden Scythe ..." Hmmmmm ...

Well now ... at least the little things know to honour their patrons ... but also I feel VERY SORRY for these poor tiny birds, this is a HORRIBLE place to be trapped in ...

Yeah, looks like being sneaky IS the smart move right now, then.

Oh, that's just SWEET ... see, nature isn't ALWAYS cruel ...

And now the tree's talking to her too ... O.O

Brennan: "It is not only humans that worship." Yes indeed ...

Holy fuck ... Asha just made the tree SPLIT THE WALL OPEN with its roots. That is a fucking FLEX right there ...

Asha takes a twig from the tree for later ... ALSO smart ...

The Emissary: "Bird ... she bares her teeth ... but I know what Mother sees in her."

Tishar cleaves the pipe open and starts burrowing into it ...

And now we're back to Emhira and SILAHA ...

So ... questioning the angel, then ... they followed their commander here? So ... this is NOT the rebel angel that came here to offer up secrets, then? Interesting ... but clearly they are still a moody shit ... hmmm ...

SILAHA's actually trying to SUCK THE ANGER right out of them? Interesting ... 9 on a Charisma check? Oof ... yeah, that's roundly rejected, then ...

Acastriel? Is that the traitor, then?

So that happened, the ... the angel just CUT ITS OWN HEAD OFF ... lovely ...

Oh dear ... yeah, so Garathran, the angel, is now FACE TO FACE with the ACTUAL Matron of Ravens on the other side ... yeah, they done fucked up after all ...

Yeah, they are SCARED now, clearly ... but she's being SO SWEET even when she's bracing them for information ...

Here we go, then ... the much needed infodump ...

A DRAGON?!!! Sweet fuck ...

The bottleneck and the breaking point indeed ... the information HASN'T gone out yet ... so they COULD just nip this in the bud right here ...

They just vanish in a puff ... and all the knowledge floods into her instead ... yup ...

It's all happening ALL AT ONCE!!! Yeah ...

And meanwhile Taliesin and Noshir have to roll Initiative ... CRAP!!! Oh, now he's getting EVERYBODY to do it instead ... okay then ...

So they burst out of the pipe into a chamber ... oh dear ... two massive constructs bar the way ... crap indeed ...

Yeah. Kill the Archmage, then ...

The Emissary charges their energy up and makes a dash for the mage. The closer construct swings and VERY MUCH misses as they pass ... attack as a BONUS ACTION?!!! Holy shit ... two big axes form one larger weapon and they CHUCK IT at the mage ... holy fuck this weapon cleaves CLEAN THROUGH the sudden shielf spell and cuts right into its target ... a rune that says "Denial"? No shit ... 11 damage, but with Scales of Justice he's also grappled and dragged ... so another 12 points, 23 altogether ... nice ... next attack which ALSO hits with a 28 ... holy fuck ... more axe action, then ... 12 points of damage this time.

The Emissary: "REPENT." Oof ... O.O

So Emhira and SILAHA have to get to the Engine under the Scribe, then. HOW?!!!

Emhira sends her raven, Dearest, through the pipe into the chamber ... okay, then ... Arcane Gate? Oh yes, nice one indeed ... so there's a portal RIGHT where they want to be, then, and she steps straight through ...

So she's right in the thick of it, then, and SILAHA casts Dimension Door in order to directly follow her.

Clockwork Cavalcade? Sounds FANCY ... yeah, DO THAT!!!

Abubakar: "Gimme two seconds ..." Oh fuck yeah ... yes, that's EXACTLY it ... SILAHA literally just PACMANs the fucking Scribe and ALL of its data ... fucking SWEET ...

A poem so beautiful it could convince reality to kill a god ... holy shit ...

Zaharzht hobbles in and casts Silence on the Archmage ... all the sound leaves the room ... hmmm ... two Counterspells from the constructs fail SPECTACULARLY ... yup, no verbal components, then ... essentially he can therefore now do FUCK ALL ... XD

The Archmage manages to slip free from the grapple, but gives the Emissary an attack of poortunity ... the mage gets out of the range of Silence and dumps a Misty Step to flee ...

The group at the hospital are currently very much OUT OF THE FIGHT ... hmmm ... so Arcadia casts Teleport and just jumps ALL OF THEM into the room ... okay, then ...

Trists casts Guiding Bolt on the Orb ... nice ... Nat20! Yeah! Double damage, then ... 8D6? Wow ... 36 points of Radiant damage! BOOM!!! Advantage on the next attack, then ...

Awwwwwww ... Topher gave her a little slingshot? That's so sweet ... she casts Blinding Smite on it, then holds her position for whatever's next ...

Which is a construct coming right at her ... oof ... she takes 44 POINTS OF DAMAGE in a single hit ... fuck ... and she just TAKES IT ...

Zaharzht takes a hit too ... and has to make a concentration save to maintain the Silence ... which stays ... phew ...

Asha runs round, lands on the Emissary and reaches into them, pulling out a rusted metal ring, produces a vine of briatwood, and forms them into a really nasty spear ... she spots the mage just in time before he emerges from Misty Step and attacks ... 24 to hit ... effortlessly bypassing the Shield, she inflicts a monstrous amount of damage and completely STUNS the fucker ... following through, she batters the prone body and then delivers a Flurry of Blows ... ouch ... HDYWTDT indeed ... yeah, she just rips his throat right out with her bare teeth ... O.O

Tishar rushes in, sees the Orb's already fucked up, and Rages as she starts battering it ... 38 points of damage, then ...

Ayden points his staff at the Orb and hurls a Guiding Bolt at it ... 30 to hit? Oooof ... 20 points of Radiant damage ... then turns to Tishar and says: "It's taking you that long?" before granting her an Additonal Attack ... fuck, REALLY?!!!

Oh, nostalgia ... hmmmm ...

She smashes it to pieces ... oh yeah, this shit EXPLODES, definitely ... both the constructs just instantly go inert and that's IT for the fight...

Wind? Hmmm ... osh shit, wait ... yes, of course, the gates are open as the gods are starting to come in ...

Meanwhile they all pile through Emhira's gate and leave the chamber behind ...

And that's IT!!! Branna calls it a night ... roll on next week, then.

[messenger-of-stupidity]

Redacted Summer Camp HC Pt. 1

Hi and welcome back! Since summer is now officially upon us and I want to live vicariously through fictional characters and pretend my summer started well, I’m building headcanons (And a story but that won’t be posted until July if I get it done in time) about the redacted characters and whether or not I think they went to camp, what kind of camp, what did they do, ect. 

Redacted Masterlist   Part Two

HERE WE GO! Starting off strong with thee..... *drumroll please...* UNEMPOWERED (+Cutie)!

Aaron - I wanna say yes, but after his recent audio it doesn’t seem like he got much of a chance to even HAVE a childhood. So he was never a camper at any summer camps. HOWEVER, since being a counselor was a pretty easy summertime job, he signed up for that. (more on this in part two :P) He didn’t enjoy having screaming children to wrangle, but he got paid which was the whole point.

Smartass - They were the kid that had to be supervised during arts and crafts. You KNOW if they had a chance they were bringing scissors with them from the art barn to carve their name into the bunk bed frame (and maybe also a swear word). Also overnight camp. I headcanon them as a problem child, so any peace their parents could get, they took.

Ollie - Yes. But only because his parents forced him. And only when he was in elementary school. He gives me the vibe of the kid that really just wanted to stay home, and tried his best to be ignored by everyone, campers and counselors alike. He made pretty good friends with the camp chef, but it was only a day camp, so he only had to be away for a few hours. When no one was looking, he would sneak off to the kitchen to see if he could help the chef make lunch and maybe eat a few snacks himself. If only the baby learned about the camps made for the geeky (affectionate) people.

Mentor - Yes, but they got involved in summer camp when they were like... 10-12ish. So they were only ever with the older kid groups. They were a counselor for one summer session and never again. They never went to any overnight summer camps, but that was fine with them. Once they were old enough to get a job, they did that instead of camp.

Ivan - I’m not actually sure. For some reason he gives off the vibe of playing soccer/football when he was a kid. So if he did go to camp, it was a soccer camp. After weeks he was miserable and quit.

Baby 1.0 (pre-vega) - Yes. They were in that soccer camp with Ivan. They didn’t quit though. 

Baby 2.0 (post-vega) - No. Just no. I feel like their family took trips during summer instead of camp.

Geordi - We know his parents are geeks, so he was definitely sent to those geeky camps. Like the Camp Half-Blood RP, and Space camp. You’d think all that exposure to so many people would have made him less nervous but no. He can get along well with other geeks, since he knows how to share interests. But anyone outside that group and he’s all anxious. Give him a hug.

Cutie - I feel like there would be camps specifically to help newly manifested empowered to learn their abilities. So Cutie was definitely sent to a telepath camp, even though their family already taught them. It was just so they could learn more about their magic and become a stronger telepath.

Guy - YES! HIS PARENTS WANTED HIM OUT OF THE HOUSE! They couldn’t handle him home all day every day for the entirety of summer vacation. This extroverted dude was totally cool with going to camp. He got to experience and put his immunity system to the test. He was the kid you could dare to eat something and he would do it as long as he was going to get something good in exchange. Also he would come back home (since sleepaway camps he was scared of. Homesick baby) with several pet rocks shoved in his pockets. He filled up buckets and his parents would slowly take the rocks out throughout the summer. He did become a counselor and he was the best fucking counselor in the whole camp. Everyone wanted him. 

Honey - They were a camper. A sullen little thing that didn’t want to be there. By the end of the day though they had fun, even if they refused to admit it. They went to sleepaway once and never again. They prefer day camps, especially the ones connected the local school system. (Honey meets Guy at summer camp fic anyone?) They did become a counselor (Guy counselor with Honey fanfic anyone?). They were that counselor that everyone but their campers were scared of. They basically gave their camper scary dog privileges, but they would spoil the hell out of their campers when no one was looking. You could also bribe them with sweets.

Next up! The Wolfs and the Mates! (+Vincent & Lovely) (Part two will contain DAMN, and the others. Idk if there will be a part 3. maybe.)

David - Only because Asher convinced his dad before David was able to stop him (See more on this later). He’s not happy about it, but he will go. The only problem is, he’s that snitch of a kid that the bunk counselors leave in charge when they go to the nightly meetings. He’s left in charge. All the kids that don’t know him that well are too scared of him so it just leaves him, Asher, and Milo to do the shenanigans themselves. He makes sure they always clean up afterwards. He never became a counselor even though he would have been the most responsible. Not even Asher could make him. Besides, when he was a teenager he was preparing for leading the pack, so he was busy. 

Angel - I can feel it in my bones that they were like Smartass in the way that their parents wanted some peace. I feel like Angel went to the same day camp for June and then during July they would do sleepaway camps. They ended up becoming a counselor at both their favorite camps once they were old enough. They were the most popular counselor because they let the campers get away with all sorts of nonsense and would join it with a grin and three cans of silly string. If you got them as a counselor, you were having a bomb ass summer vacation. As a camper, Angel was a total anklebiter. They would throw that dodgeball at your head, they didn’t give a fuck. They would also be the kid the lurks by the prize table so they don’t have far to go if their name was called. It never got called, but they had a fun summer nonetheless. (Basically the same as Guy since similar energy. Although now I wanna write a fanfic where Guy and Angel are paired up to be camp counselor and the shenanigans as Honey and David watch on in growing horror.)

Asher - He went to boy scouts camp, I just know it. His favorite part was the archery because David would get all pissy when he pretended not to know where to point it. Asher would routinely get lost  in the woods and would just randomly show up hours later with twigs in his hair and a toothy grin. No one knows where he went or what he did to this day. If it’s ever brought up he just starts grinning but doesn’t answer. He also snuck in candy into the camp and would stay awake eating it with Milo while David lectured them on the importance of routines. When he was old enough to be a counselor, he got a job as a pool lifeguard instead. Camp was fun, but it’s too restrictive in routine for him to properly claim as enjoying his summer vacation.

Baabe - I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Baabe gives off such an artsy vibe. They definitely went to a day camp or even a sleepaway camp dedicated purely to arts and crafts. They had a blast and came home with paintings, pottery, string art, sketchbooks, tie-dye clothes, ect. They were never a camp counselor though. And they only went to camp once, but spent the rest of their summer doing whatever.

Milo - He was brought along to the boy scout camp along with David and Asher. David cleaned up from the pranks, Asher did the pranks when he wasn’t lost in the forest, but Milo was the one that got the original materials. He claimed since he was shorter than the other two, he would be able to sneak it out easier. He really just finessed his way into getting the counselors to pretend they didn’t see anything. He loved the rock climbing, but could have done without the heights. David told him it was counterproductive and Milo told him to get off his ass. He did, however, volunteer at the geeky roleplay summer camps for kids. He liked being able to chase kids around and make them laugh. He especially enjoyed the werewolf oriented camps for empowered kids, and he would become like some kind of mother duck. Like, he would walk out of the tree line in his wolf form with a bunch of pups following him like baby ducklings. It didn’t even need to be in his wolf form. He routinely came back since the campers basically worshipped him. It helped him build up his confidence.

Sweetheart - They were a master at the obstacle courses at scout camp. A menace not to be trifled with. But they didn’t ever really enjoy it. They did enjoy going to empowered focused camps and playing the games there. They were the undefeated winner of hide and seek, magic or no and seeker or hider it didn’t matter. They were going to win. They also pulled several pranks but no one ever thought it was them, so they got away with it. But I also headcanon that Sweetheart knew what they wanted to do with their life, so when they were old enough to be a camp counselor, they were too busy training to enter the Department.

Darlin - Oh they DEFINITELY WENT TO CAMP! They hated the activities where they needed to work in a group. If they went to a scout camp, their favorite part was swinging the knife around at arm’s length to represent their “blood circle”. The knife was taken away after that. But they also were the kid the chased other kids with a worm on a stick or something. They were a menace. But when they didn’t have something cool they wanted to show others, they were pretty quiet. They tended to sit away from everyone else and be quiet. The counselors didn’t know what to do with them. No they were never a counselor. Sleep away camps were their favorite.

Sam - Horse. Camp. Cowboy. Camp.  Nah but for real, he does seem like he would spend his summers on local horse ranches. I can feel it in my bones that Sam liked the calm atmosphere that horses can give off. It also taught him to be patient and not express his temper as much. Valuable lessons. He was never a counselor, but he did keep volunteering to help when he could until he left to go to DAMN.

Vincent - Despite his fancy attitude, he seemed like the rest of us average mortals in his first video. I think he only went to a two week long day camp every summer with his friends. It wasn’t ever about the activities. He just wanted to hang out and goof off with his friends. But he was a camp counselor. He was labeled “the hot counselor” behind his back. He was well aware though and as awkward as it was, it was also kind of flattering. He was a really fun counselor though and would try to make sure that his cabin always got the good shit. He also tried to follow the rules, only allowing a small bend in the rules. He doesn’t want to get a bad reputation after all.

Lovely - They were the fantasy rp camper. They found every single one that they could, attending each other as much as possible. Everyone who was a permanent staff member there knew their name by heart. Lovely was content to just go along with what they were supposed to do, mainly just excited to be there. And yes, they did become a counselor there. If only because they wanted to continue to experience it.

[surveillance-0011]

I was wondering if you could maybe do some Kenny high on life headcanons if you haven't already

yes ofc! im also gonna take the time to say feel free to send asks + hc requests whenever bc ill most likely get around to it even if it takes me a bit to think of things. just nothing abt the comic yet bc i'm still working on getting my copy :3c

he/him polysexual demiaroace

Big on collecting, had a huge collection of geeky merch back at home and he'd love to build that back up again asap

huge weeb huge nerd duh

Very very glad general space culture is a bit more open to the sort of things he's interested in and very very glad the Bounty Hunter is also a huge nerd

exaggerating a liitle bit of how much space loves anime but he's not far from the truth

Loves Akira and NGE. Also big on Gurren Lagen and Gundam.

Gunpla builder. glad BH, Lizzie and Gus have hands to help with this. Gene DGAF so he don't count

Likes fruit flavored candy a lot. Like anything from hi-chew to juicy drop n peach rings n stuff

More than a little impulsive and impatient. Gets restless easily.

Trusts easy, kinda gullible especially before the events of the game. Easily fell for spectacle/face value assumptions.

Generally just. doesn't read the fine print. not as observant as he could be. should be.

But also very curious very excited to learn and see new things he needs his enrichment. take him to aquarium take him to library take him to museum

Wanted to be an astronaut when he was a kid

Likes those glow in the dark stars that you can stick to walls.

Went to trade school, good with mechanical work.

In a human au he’d wear headphones with lil antenna attached

Chill with knifey if concerned by his perpetual bloodlust. Tried to get him into Chainsaw Man and Akira.

If he ever meets Harper I think things would be more than a little awkward but they would end up getting along really well. Like besties well

BUT she would kick his ass/spray him with the hose on the highest power setting in the back yard first. It's only fair.

I don't say this as "ew icky kenny must suffer" i have the idea in my head that they mutually agree to something like this since harper has repressed so many of her emotions that something weird and cathartic like this would be the only way to work through it and Kenny just decides it's better to get it all over with in this kind of self flagellating manner than deal with someone else being mad at him for years perhaps in a moment of weakness he instantly regrets but it ends up working out.

Maybe he'd feel slighted at first?? Or insecure about it?? But Harper being so buddy buddy would make him slip back into place more and feel more like it's alright in the end.

And also anime buddies. We can make this happen. we don't have to fight. peace and love

that being said...

More below the cut but warning it's all abt the whole G3 thing and uh warnings to mentions of character death, manipulation and mentions/implications of suicidal ideation.

I think Rel was taking advantage of him but it wasn't like. 100% trying to play Kenny like a fiddle. It's just that he definitely cared more about infinite ammo, a mechanic, and quirky commentator for his exploits 3-in-1 than Kenny as an individual and had no qualms about bringing him into his shady, dangerous lifestyle.

Kenny definitely let a lot of information slip to Garmantuous and the G3, under the impression that maybe they would just cooperate with the Gatlians and it would be a mutual helping sort of thing. He didn't know the extent of the G3's crimes or what they would really do to Gatlus.

I think Garm and/or Nipulon mostly pressured/ encouraged him to talk and he figured at worst they’d be pushy or get some folks on Gators into hot water

Escaped from their clutches for a while only to be recaptured. Rel became much crueler to him as a result of the attempted betrayal.

Conflict-averse, when it comes to actual social disputes.

Creature forgave him quickly. Gus and Sweezy had to gradually warm up to him and it would never really be the way it was before.

Kenny felt pretty distressed by this. didn't they know he lost everything too? Couldn't it just. be over now?

I mean. Let's be real here. Yes Kenny was manipulated and his worst crime was mostly just running away and trusting the wrong person. But when that mistake leads to something so big? Ofc it's gonna make people mad. Esp with a vague, rushed confession instead of really being able to speak his peace

And I think not wanting to tell people, only being prompted to in order to tell the story first, and that whole "you mean i didn't even have to tell anyone ermwhat the sigma!!" bit really do seem. pretty selfish. i'll admit it irks me more than just a little.

Granted I'm sure no one's thinking straight when their whole planet's been wiped off the census and I think general survival and trying to keep a stable group came before most else in Kenny's mind. And in general he wanted to get out into the world, really see it, and prove himself only to fuck up more in the end. but it's a principle sort of thing to me.

But I like to think (and definitely want to write/draw a little something about this) that he eventually managed to really talk things out and reach a slightly better middle ground. Because everyone else really suffered for his fuck up and ofc they can't just "oh it's okay" it all away. But at the same time changing the trajectory of the galaxy's politics and wellbeing as a whole, getting entire planets destroyed because of one wrong move would break anybody down.

And I think they were getting somewhere before he. well. vanished off the face of the Earth

I read that reunion with Lez as a sort of reconciliation but I'm not sure if Kenny ever forgave himself for fucking up his friend's life like that.

I think Lezduit is relatively lucid if a bit dazed + confused, just unable to speak verbally. At the very least he's got a general idea of where he is what's goin on etc. And I think he did forgive Kenny but I'm sure if / when he is/was still aware of everything he'd still feel grim about stuff. If he could he'd totally just tell Kenny it would be better to be honest

And I think when Kenny first confessed everything Lez really wanted to tell him he could have been honest about all his doubts. Lezduit never thought he was a fuck up after all.

I'm honestly interested in the idea that maybe the Bounty Hunter didn't drop him, or that that was only half the problem; maybe he let himself fall or wriggled out of holster/grasp during a bout of guilt and doubt to just say fuck it and start over.

Or maybe not to start anything new at all and just. end it. That's dark but after everything maybe during a stressful mission it just all got to him and he freaked out and make that knee-jerk decision.

Though I'm sure he's survived and in my mind he's currently trying his damndest to make his way back to the Bounty Hunter.

i still like my prediction, as contrived as it may be, that Lizzie ends up finding him now that she's off on her own, too, and you end up reuniting with them both.

I mean. they're still using him for promo shit. there's no way he's GONE gone, they're probably just looking for a new VA and making sure the story fits together now.

And he is missed. By Creature definitely, by Gus yes even though he's not quick to admit it, and totally not Sweezy nooo why would you think that nooo why does she get kind of quiet and solemn when she goes to make fun of him and remembers he's not there noooo naur ahaha wtf are you talking about.

Knifey has also been like "Man i miss that blue bugger shame he's probably dead' and freaked everyone else the fuck out for a little bit

Lez doesn't know he's gone but I'm sure if/when the news reaches them it would be a small bout of mild panic (read: Major, major panic covertly expressed as " :O uh oh") but as much as they worry they'd kind of also just be like "eh he'll turn up somewhere". Happened before, and he's sure the Kenny he knows will tough it out. Not necessarily or primarily denial, mind you. I mean a real, genuine faith here. Lezduit knows his friend.

[thestupidhelmet]

That ‘90s Show Reviews

Okay, throw out what I wrote in this post. I watched “That ‘90s Pilot,” and I did an organized stream-of-consciousness analysis-reaction. I can’t separate That ‘90s Show from That ‘70s Show, but I was able to think about T9S on its own terms as well as its connection to T7S.

In summary, watching the first ep of That ‘90s Show was like seeing a fanfic turned into a TV show. Some aspects feel right and emotionally satisfying. Some aspects feel totally upside-down and throw me out of the fictional dream. The series has potential to be enjoyable. It has canon character elements, but this is a future that extends from season 4 of That ‘70s Show, no further—excepting a few details taken from seasons 7 and 8 for coherency’s sake. Coherency’s sake sounds strange, considering how the T9S universe is cobbled together. But cobbled together is what the T9S universe is (and T9S creators / showrunners’ interviews essentially admit to this fact by how they described creating the show). As individuals, Kitty and Red are largely in-character but not fully. They’re a little off-model (an animation term). I’ll be interested to see how they interact with the new kids. Below the cut, you’ll find my detailed, spoilery thoughts on “That ‘90s Pilot”.

--Before Leia enters, the Red/Kitty scene, including when there’s a knock on the door, is spot-on. Red and Kitty’s interactions with Eric can be seen as in-character. But since they haven’t seen him since Christmas (i.e. for six months), I think Red would actually be less aloof toward Eric. If they saw each other every month or so, I can understand the agreed-on lack of hug, but in the context of not seeing his son for half a year—we see on T7S that Red does show his love for Eric, including hugs, in important moments. This was punchline over characterization. A more in-character and funnier way (to me) would’ve been them having a very awkward, blink-and-you-miss it hug and them acting like they hadn’t hugged at all right after. (And, yes, Eric looks like he’s barely aged. Point Place Time™, man. Maybe he looks older when he’s not in Point Place. It’s magic.) --Kitty talking about how Leia’s breasts are growing (“Your buds are blooming”) as her second sentence to her granddaughter’s arrival is both OOC for Kitty (she wouldn’t be inappropriate and creepy like that, especially in front of Leia’s father and grandfather. She would talk to Leia about this in private in a more respectful way, about how Leia’s becoming a “young woman”. This line was for the laugh. Punchline over characterization. --Glad that Red gives us the exposition that Leia is athletic like Donna. Also, Red’s joke in giving us that exposition is a solid burn on Eric. --Donna carrying all the suitcases upstairs herself is funny and in-character. --Eric mentioning that Leia now gets her period. Leia’s fourteen, on the later end of normal, for her to start having her period. So this choice is obviously for the reason of setting up how Leia is changing and growing up. --Donna NEVER called Kitty Mrs. F on T7S. Never. This is totally OOC. I can’t see her calling Kitty Mrs. F after calling her Mrs. Forman her whole life since she could talk. Yes, this could change in fifteen years, but I just don’t see Donna making that choice. Kitty: I wish you would call me Mom. Donna: I know. … Someday. Kitty: This weekend. Donna: Okay. Punchline over character. --I like that Donna became an author. At least that part of her character hasn’t been forgotten. --Eric being a professor of The Religion of Star Wars. Well, those of us who kept up on spoilers knew about that one already. Just continuing the long-running joke from T7S. At least his career involves one of the two passions the T7S writers gave him, lol. --Donna stepping, at Leia’s request, in when Eric goes overboard with his geekiness = absolutely see this as true to Donna and Eric’s potential parenting dynamic. --Gwen’s introduction / Leia and Gwen’s introduction to each other: Leia sees a freedom in Gwen that she doesn’t feel herself. She has Gwen-envy. (Gwenvy?) She recognizes parts of herself in Gwen she herself hasn’t yet expressed, and not e v e r y  relationship has to have a romantic element (nor should it). I’m all here for platonic intimate friendships  … Like Eric and Hyde’s. Which this friendship is clearly set up to emulate. Gwen has definite aspects of Hyde to her. The fact Gwen lives in Donna’s old room is a nice touch, and it leads to her making a very Hyde-esque joke / burn on Leia about how Leia’s parents probably used to have sex in Gwen’s room. We learn that Eric, Donna, and Leia live in Chicago during this scene. We also meet Nate, Gwen’s brother. He’s got some sexist attitudes. It’s a characterization choice that creates tension between him and Gwen, but it’s also for the “laughs”. --Tension between Leia and Eric shown through her rejection of Star Wars. Eric partly parents her through Star Wars … not sure if any of that needs commentary beyond the observation of it. I like that Leia and Red’s connection is shown in this moment, though (when Leia burns Eric about Yoda being a puppet, etc.). Still, I hope Leia and Red’s connection isn’t solely based on a mutual frustration toward Eric. --Nikki gets one line then kisses Nate, letting us know they’re a couple. --Okay, yeah, Jay gives me the creeps right away. Yikes. I’m sure this will fall away as Leia gets to know him, but *shudder*. --Oz. Punchline-giver. Like Fez became in T7S’s later seasons. Hope there’s more to him than that. --Hell. Nate to Nikki: “Jay’s had my back for the last twelve years, and you’ve got my front for the last six months. I can’t choose.” That’s … something. So bromance established between Nate and Jay. T9S has two Michael Kelso instead of one. We’ll see if that evolves. But, finally, Kelso gets to be in a relationship with himself? And this episode is taking “The Keg” (1x06) plot from T7S. --The first “circle” scene of the show. I liked the red herring bit with the smoke (I knew Red and Kitty wouldn’t be smoking up with Eric and Donna). I also like Red is in Kitty’s corner with Donna calling her Mom, but to use the show’s own joke: that minor subplot feels forced. --Oz’s line to Nate, “Kid vs. beer: it’s a tale as old as time,” is ripped straight from Fez’s voice (not accent, character voice). --I’m glad Nikki is written as an intelligent, savvy character. Maybe not in love (choosing Nate as her boyfriend is a detail we need to understand the reasoning behind in order to understand Nikki better). --Love seeing Leia’s strength come out with the woman who wouldn’t sell her the tap for the keg. She tries Gwen’s sneaky plan first then goes the direct (blackmail) route using logic. This is not Eric. This is not Donna. This moment shows us Leia is Leia. --Gwen’s optimism is an important, unique aspect of her character. It differentiates her from Hyde, who’s a pessimist. Gwen is also the obvious leader of the friend group (though not a dictator … from what I’ve seen so far). The fact Leia never felt free until her interactions with the Point Place crowd over this twenty-four hour period is sad and implies that Eric and Donna are controlling parents in some way. It’s also sad that she’s spent her first fourteen years of her life not feeling free (which isn’t uncommon). Leia’s dynamic with Gwen, so far, mirrors Eric’s with Donna and Hyde. Donna and Hyde both help Eric find freedom from the internalized discipline and control of Red in season 1 of T7S. --The fact Gwen isn’t put off by Leia’s declaration that she wants her and Gwen “to become best friends” is interesting. Leia is earnest and desperate to gain the freedom she sees in Gwen (her Gwenvy™ is showing) through becoming close with Gwen. Further, Leia’s declaration of wanting her and Gwen to become best friends mirrors Fez’s own to Hyde in a “Class Picture” (4x20) flashback that Hyde is his best friend. Upon their first meeting, Hyde essentially pledges to be Fez’s protector from bullies, which prompts Fez to believe Hyde is his best friend now. --This exchange … Eric: Leia Tattooine Forman -- Donna: Her middle name is Anne. Eric: I never agreed to that. I laughed, but wow is T9S leaning hard on the Star Wars jokes. Hence, Leia’s name. Leia’s middle name is the same as Kitty’s middle name, so nice connection there. Same as Eric’s middle name is the same as Red’s middle name. But where is Donna’s, “You chose Leia as our daughter’s name when I was too hopped up on the epidural during childbirth to disagree”? --Kitty and Red enjoying Eric and Donna’s struggles with parenting = totally in-character (but T7S!Kitty would likely try to intercede at some point). Donna being the disciplinarian (and Eric letting her / encouraging her to be so) is a detail I’ve discussed with a lot of fellow T7S fans over the years. The consensus is that we think this would be in-character. But that Donna pulls a reversal in Leia’s particular circumstance (not only supporting her kid’s choice to stay in Point Place for the summer but also praising her for it) is also in-character. --Eric acting like Red given certain stressors with his kid is another topic I discussed with fellow T7S fans over the years. His reaction to Leia and his foot-in-ass threat is in-character for him as a parent in this circumstance. Red’s reaction to Eric’s reaction is funny and, yeah, in-character. --Eric and Donna’s scene together on the hood of the car is very sweet and has depth. It tells us about Eric’s relationship to Leia, his relationship to Donna, and how Donna trusts Leia. I would’ve liked more Donna/Leia moments so we could learn about their dynamic, but the little we do get gives us an idea. --OK, I LOVE THAT ERIC IS KITTY TO LEIA (in some ways). He tells Leia he loves her without it being a struggle (totally in-character), and the smelling hair payoff (Kitty smelled Eric’s hair earlier in the episode) totally works and shows us how deeply Eric loves his daughter (as do all their interactions in this episode and Eric’s reactions about Leia to other characters). --Dude, Eric called Donna babe. On T7S, Eric never had good pet names for Donna. Never. It was even an on-going joke in one episode of T7S (season 7). Even though Eric calls her babe in this episode, it still sounds weird. It’s just not … Eric. --This ep overdoes Kitty’s infantalization of Eric. On T7S, it’s funny-uncomfortable. This is uncomfortable-cringe. --Red hugs Donna before she and Eric leave. Not Eric. Never Eric. No sign of true connection between Red and Eric at all. Just schadenfreude on Red’s part for Eric’s difficulties with Leia and contention except for Eric’s sarcastic, “I love you, too, Dad.” One moment between Red and Eric to establish their love for each other, like the awkward super-fast hug like I described above would’ve done it. --Donna calls Kitty Mom before leaving the house. Very sweet. But also contrived. This issue could have (and probably would have) been resolved long before now. But TV SHOW. Not real life. --Red’s utter fear at Kelso jumping into the kitchen and shouting, “Burn!”—hilarious but also awful. --Okay, okay … JACKIE IS ALLOWED TO BE EFFING SMART. Kelso: “[Jay]’s got his dad’s looks and his mom’s brains. He got all straight As last year.” T9S erases and cuts up T7S and rearranges what it wants. Jackie’s season-1 characterization of being a good student is returned to her, but so much more is taken away. BETSY would’ve been described the same way by Kelso as Jay. Captain Obvious: It would’ve been more in-character for Jay to be Brooke’s son, not Jackie’s. Brooke is characterized consistently on T7S as highly intelligent. It’s a consistent part of her character. I don’t ask for too much; I ask for what I’ll never get. Speaking of Betsy: does she exist? Will Jay ever mention his sister, who would be seventeen in 1995? --Kurtwood is clearly trying not to break during Kelso and Jackie’s scene. The laugh is being tightly held in. --*sigh* Jackie and Kelso’s second remarriage. At least that wasn’t a surprise. --The Jackie of T9S is who the Jackie of T7S season 4 would have become without ever dating Hyde. Canon-divergence utterly confirmed. --Where do Jackie and Kelso live so that Jay lives in Point Place and has been best friends with Nate for twelve years? Since they were both three or four? Point Place, obviously. Nate is Red and Kitty’s neighbor, which means Jay has been going there for twelve years. Which means Red and Kitty would very likely know who Jay is and that Jay is Jackie and Kelso’s kid. They’d also have seen Jackie and/or Kelso the last twelve years (at least). Make it make sense. --And Jay Kelso just made a sex joke to Kitty. Red: What is wrong with you? He’s a Kelso. --Eric’s Candy Land stash is no longer money. It’s pot. Except Kitty knew Eric hid money in the Candy Land box, so she would’ve checked that thing years ago for anything Eric might’ve left in there.

--Onto the next episode.

[agentnico]

The Mandalorian - Season 3 (2023) Review

“This is the Way” used to be such a cool line to say. However in this new season multiple characters say this quote a gazillion times per episode. Kind of loses its, dare I say, way... Though to be fair that can be said about the season as a whole.

Plot: Our titular bounty hunter travels to Mandalore to redeem his past transgressions with his adopted son Grogu and being aided on their journey by fellow Mandalorian Bo-Katan Kryze. The two then set out to inspire the remaining members of the creed to come together and reclaim their homeland.

As someone who did not actually grow up with Star Wars (I was always more into Lord of the Rings as a kid), and only watched the original films for the first time back in 2014 in preparation for The Force Awakens, I don’t share that nostalgic love for the property. So for me personally The Mandalorian show up till now was my most favourite thing to come from this science fiction world. Say what you will, but Hollywood go-to dad Pedro Pascal wearing a kettle helmet and bonding with his adopted kid Grogu is such an ace idea for a show, and has worked wonders till now. I love the character so much that I even own the Din Djarin helmet from Hasbro, which rests nicely on the top shelf of my geeky display case alongside my other treasuries. So naturally I was really looking forward to the third season of my favourite bounty hunter’s adventures, following the exciting set-up at the end of The Book of Boba Fett, a show by the way that is only worth watching once our favourite Mando appears in. Now the season finale has aired on Disney+, so naturally I am here to compliment, critique, and knit-pick my humble opinions...

This isn’t really a great season. Don’t get me wrong, there are definitely some solid moments, but the entire plot of the season only really picks up in the final two episodes, when our characters finally decide to reclaim Mandalore. The rest of the season is for the most part a lot of unnecessary filler and endless set-up. As such, those final two episodes end up suffering too, as they are very rushed. We get our proper villain reveal in the penultimate episode, and then its very much a quick race to have the confrontation and resolution, and as such the season ends and you’re just there like “well okay, that’s that then”. 

Also, I like Bo-Katan as a character. Katee Sackhoff is a very strong female hero and plays the character with prowess and charisma. Also Bo-Katan’s helmet looks great, and yes, you know where this is going... I have acquired the Hasbro replica of said helmet and it now rests gracefully next to my Mando helmet on my display case because I am not at all sad. That being said, the show is called The Mandalorian, not Bo-Katan. Yet in this season Din Djarin is very much side-lined and instead is focused on Bo-Katan’s internal struggle in getting the courage to once again become a leader and unify her people, as well as the New Republic struggling to maintain control of the Galaxy. Again, Sackhoff is great in the role and I dig the character, but at the end of the day I watch The Mandalorian for the Mandalorian, as in Din Djarin. As in Pedro Pascal being the cool dude that he is. 

Look, season 3 of The Mandalorian isn’t necessarily bad or anything. It’s simply very average, with a lack of narrative direction as well as a deviation from the titular hero and his green companion. Nonetheless I am still looking forward to Season 4, now that the two last episodes have properly kicked things into gear and end with the assumption that the focus is now going to be back on Din Djarin and his kid. Meaning hopefully next season is going to be much more interesting and eventful. And look, I know a few fans out there got really annoyed with that one episode this season which had cameo appearances by Jack Black, Lizzo and Christopher Lloyd. And I get the Lizzo criticism - the woman cannot act whatsoever. But as an episode on its own I enjoyed it. It took it back to basics with Mando having these standalone little adventures. From the finale it seems that season 4 is heading more back in that direction with setting the stage for new adventures for Din Djarin and Grogu, and that gives me hope that we shall see the way again...

Overall score: 5/10

[eddieheart]

DR.SINCLAIR

(Part 1)

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairings: NONE

Words: 910

Description: Dr. Willa Sinclair comes home for a break.

Her name is Dr. Willa Sinclair, that's right, Doctor. It isn't easy, in fact it's quite fucking difficult. Not only does she have every guy doctor telling her she'd be better in the kitchen, but she had ever white doctor thinking she shouldn't even be allowed in the program.

Will is a surgical resident, she loves her job and she's good at it too. But every once and a while she needs a break. Well, truthfully she didn't need a break, but because of an unfortunate incident at the hospital involving a psych patient and a pair of scissors, she was given leave.

She was fine, really, she was, it wasn't a big deal. At least she got to see her family, right?

Two younger siblings, Lucas and Erica. They meant the world to her. Everything Willa had done she'd done for her siblings, to show them that they could do anything, no matter what they looked like, no matter what anybody said.

Will approached the front door nervously, bag of clothes in one hand and car keys in the other. Her parents would be worried that she was home, they always worried, about everything.

With a shaky hand, Willa rang the doorbell and stepped back. The door opened to reveal her mother, clad in a flour covered apron. She smiled brightly at the sight of her eldest daughter.

"Willa! My baby, you're home! How are you? What are you doin' back here hun? You alright?" She asked, softly petting the side of the young girls face.

"I'm fine momma, I swear. I just took a few weeks off to see you guys. As a surprise." Her mother pulled her into a tight hug, practically crushing her.

"Oh my baby, I missed you." Sue said, squeezing the girl tighter.

"Charles! Honey! Guess who's home!" She said in a sing song voice. Her father came walking out to the front door with an even brighter smile.

Just as Willa pulled away she was brought into another bone crushing hug, by her father this time.

"The kids are still at school, Erica will be home any minute now but Lucas has a basketball game tonight. We were all gonna go, you're coming too right?" He asked kindly while pulling away from the hug.

Her mother lead both Willa and her father into the living room, gently strutting the front door.

Willa was shocked, Lucas, her geeky, nerdy, dnd loving little brother was a basketball player? She could barely believe it.

Just as Willa sat down the front door could be heard swinging open. She quickly walked towards the door and called over to her other daughter.

"Erica we have a guest, come say hi!" Sue smiled as a clearly unamused Erica walked into the room.

"Hello, yes it's me Erica it's- oh my gosh! Lila! When did you get home!" She cried out as she ran over to the older girl.

"I took a vacation and decided to come see my favourite sister! How are you?" Willa asked.

"Great now that you're here. Are you coming to the game tonight?"

"You know it."

—-

"Seriously Erica we need to get you some new tapes, really. I like tears for fears just as much as the next guy but I draw the limit at 25 times a day I do." Willa said laughing, holding up her sisters tape and gesturing to it.

"Oh shut up." Erica replied jokingly.

"Girls, language." Their mother said while laughing. They pulled into the school parking lot and got out of the car.

They were only a little late, shuffling into the gym and quietly finding a seat at the bleachers. Other people gawked and stared at them, parents whispering to their children, holding them closer.

Will shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked for Lucas. She didn't know a lot about basketball, actually she knew nothing. What she did know was that getting a ball in the opposite basket was good and Lucas was doing a lot of that.

The game didn't last that long, and when it was done Lucas came rushing over from where the rest of the team sat.

"Hey, Lila." He said, softly pulling her into a brief hug.

"Hey Lu, you did well out there." She tried to compliment him the best she could with her limited knowledge of the game. He chuckled and thanked her.

Everything was fine until they got home, firstly Erica insisted that Will help with her biology homework, then Lucas replied that no, she wasn’t going to help Erica because she was going to help him.

“Well I need help with biology Lucas, suck it up. It’s my turn with her anyway!” Erica sassed.

Lucas crossed his arms and glared back at the younger girl.

“You’re turn? You had her already! I might’ve hurt my leg during practice! I could need a splint!” Erica scoffed.

“You don’t need a splint Lucas! You have a bruise at best!” Willas eyes widened, clearly this was escalating way too quickly.

“Hey, woah, woah, I can do both. Lucas, I’ll look at you leg on the couch, Erica, I can help you in the living room okay? Okay.” She lead the pair to the living room with a sigh.

She’d kind of missed this, in a weird way. Missed the background bickering, the loving way they teased each other. It was nice, instead of her usual background noise of her roommates fucking around.

@buggylad

[marvel-ousmondays]

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.- Season 1, Episodes 1-2

I've hit my first TV show! So my "plan" (as much as any of this is planned) is to do 2 episodes at a time for the TV shows. I figure this makes them about the length of a movie and as plot lines from one episode to the next, it makes sense to group them. (Unlike with the short films where sometimes they have little to do with one another, at least directly.)

Like many things in the MCU canon, this isn't my first rodeo with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. but I have not seen all of them. The first season and half will likely be colored by previous viewings though.

Season 1, Episode 1: Pilot

I'm not sure if this episode's title is meant to be a little tongue-in-cheek or not. Obviously many TV shows just title their first episode "Pilot", but the fact that Coulson seeks May to just "drive the bus" does give make me give the title at least a second look.

Speaking of May- I cannot express my attraction and appreciation for this character. Not just Ming-Na Wen- she's obviously beautiful and talented- but the character of May herself. I'm sure there will be lots of complaints and stereotyping but to me May screams badass female soldier in all the right ways. Of course she keeps things to herself- if you complained, you were out. Of course she's crazy competent- she has to be in order to be so regarded. I love that she's not 20, I love that she doesn't let Coulson steamroll over her, I just adore her.

Fitz and Simmons are great but their banter is SO fast in the first couple of episodes that it's very hard to follow. I get that's sort of the point, but jokes do get lost. (I still find it so hard they ever planned to just have this be one character.)

Coulson is at least a heart, if not the heart, of the MCU and this shows beautifully in this first episode where he's not willing to simply sacrifice Mike and leave his kid fatherless. He's hard on his team in the right way- in the "he knows they are capable" way.

Spoiler note! I have one major issue with Ward in this episode and it's that he was under truth serum with no repercussions. Given the twist that is coming that makes no sense.

Skye is cool- I know she's a fan favorite but I know I took a little while to warm to her. She's kind of all over the place.

I appreciate the choice in this episode to look at what happens when the infamous serum is exploited and used on good people with no options. We've seen the serum used on an exceptional individual (Steve Rogers has the most incorruptible moral compass possible AND is hella intellectual) who chose their path willingly. We've seen it used on someone morally bankrupt (Red Skull) as well as someone who is decent but definitely had some selfish reasoning (yes, the gamma rays didn't help but Banner definitely did want some glory).

What is most heartbreaking in this episode is the number of times that Mike points out that he IS a good person. The episode does try to show him as complex- he wants to take care of his kid, but he's also incredibly frustrated with a system that not only doesn't take care of him when injured, but won't take him back when healed. But Coulson nails it for us in response to Mike putting his former foreman in ICU- he IS a good man, he just needs a break. Or, to put another spin on it, the vast majority of us have a breaking point.

The serum, no matter how stabilized, used on him is up against incredible odds. Add to the fact that it's NOT actually stabilized and we've got major problems. (There you go geeky gatekeeper, you happy now? You can sit down- I understand it's not the exact same serum and has issues.)

I remember when I first watched this episode, I really appreciated the tension. I assumed they had indeed killed Mike at first- that this is one of those tough calls they had to make. But the Chekov's gun (or in this case Night-Night gun) paid off in a big way. I also appreciate that this one led so nicely into the second episode. I find shows sometimes take a while to get started, while this one found a rhythm pretty quick and also piqued my interest to come back for the next one.

Season 1, Episode 2: 0-8-4

The nod to Thor's Hammer was appreciated. The key to this episode, of course, is that it's when the group goes from individuals stuck on a plane to a team working together. Chekov's gun makes another appearance, this time in the guise of a safety manual.

I will say, I appreciate how at loose ends Skye is here. She's hopped on this adventure, but doesn't know what her role is. Based on the ending, she definitely has other objectives, but she also WANTS to help, wants to be useful. She's not used to feeling out of her depth. She's a great case of the super gifted person that was always the top in every room... but now she's in a room filled with other tops and doesn't know what to do or how to feel.

More badass May. I'll take as much of that as they'll give me. Lots of badass women in general here.

I do appreciate the attempt to show the messiness of things in this episode. The rebels are a problem for them as they are trying to secure a dangerous, "alien" object. But Skye points out that they're actually an organized group wanting to fight corrupt mining practices which is amazing. To which Ward has to point out that people are dying. Progress, or even simply change, isn't a clean, straightforward process and what is right isn't always clear.

I do like the idea that S.H.I.E.LD. is attempting to stay true to science purity with its slingshot program. (I, of course, do know where we're headed, but let's try to enjoy the ride, shall we?)

Onward!

[shojizbae]

Constantly Thinking about Eddie Munson

I have had the idea for a while about Eddie meeting an actual geeky nerd, she’s into star wars and all the typical stuff, but also, she’s fucking smart. Like giving Dustin a run for his money (but age-appropriate) smart. Anyways, Eddie is under the belief that he and the janitor are the only people at school. It’s a Thursday night, and it’s past the time that most clubs will have gone home by now. After giving it a well-deserved cleaning, he’s just locked up the drama room. (HC Eddie isn’t ‘messy or clean per se, but he strongly believes everything has a dedicated space). He whistles the melody to a van Halen song and swings his keys around the ring on his pointer finger when he passes the hidden band rehearsal room.

He stops as he hears this beautiful somber tune wafting from the cracked open door. He stops and listens for a moment but curiosity gets the best of him. He’s nosy by nature and he needs the answer. He gently slides the door open and hangs on the frame as he catches the artist. She’s sitting at a music stand on one of teh school’s plastic chairs and instead of sheet music there’s an open notebook with handwritten sheet music scrawled in ink that blotted and bled through the pages. She continues to play her symphony too lost in the zone to notice his nosy ass. The wall in front of her has a small dust-lined mirror that only shows her left temple. He can see you have fluffy bangs and that your eyebrows are scrunched up in concentration.

You play beautifully, he watches your shoulders jump and sway as you slice your bow across the instrument. it is only interrupted when he sighs in delight and a sharp noise comes from your bow halting abruptly against the steel strings. You catch eddies blissed face in the mirror as he jumps along with you

“Please, don’t stop on my account” He puts his hands out defensively like a cop is shinning a flashlight at him

“Who are you?” you give him a slightly accusati8onal look

“Eddie Munson, Town freak, and metal enthusiast” He takes an excited lunge toward you and holds his hand out for a handshake but steps back when he sees you slightly cower, hunching over the neck of your cello like a mama bird. “I’m sorry I didn’t want to scare you” He steps back and put his hand in his pocket “I just had to hear you, you have a talent”

“Thank you,” You turn slightly back to your stand but he can see how your cheeks raise with a smile

“So hey, did you write that?” He takes another excited bound toward you to get a look at your notebook

“Don’t touch my book! Youswat his grubby hands away before he can get to it

“Sorry, hey I must be crossing all your boundaries?” He backpedals and pulls both hands out of his leather jacket “Let’s start over, I’m Eddie” He puts them genuinely on his chest and offers his least anxious smile “What’s your name?” you divulge him “Oh that’s pretty like that character from 

“Yeah” You cut him off

“Oh sorry you must get that all the time? People usually just call me a freak but one time in middle school I told a kid my name was Edward and they said ‘like that British prince?” Who even pays attention to the UK?” his perplexion made you giggle gently and it made him light up like a firework

“Wow, even your laugh is pretty-uhh” he cuts himself off when he realizes what he just said and what that might have implied. Any interpretation would be correct. If you thought that like your music, your laugh was harmonic he would have said yes but if you strung together that he believed you looked like a fairy princess from one of his secret campaigns you would also be correct.

“Thanks, Edward, you’re pretty too” You added even though you could feel your heart thrumming in a D4 “Hey do you know anywhere a girl could get a rootbeer float around here?” you began to pack up your cello into an acrylic case

“Uhh no, unfortunately, most of the mom-and-pop shops close during winter, and the mall is like forty minutes away. But, I can do you one way better.” He watches you wilt and then perk up with his words “There’s this swanky seven-eleven that got like one employee and I sell to him so he lets me pick out free shit all the time.”

“Oh sicks because I am” You pause and pat your pockets for emphasis “Low on funds”

“sweet, now give me that oversized oboe, and let’s get it my van.”

“Woah woah woah van? Are you trying to kidnap me?” you reluctantly hand him your cello case while you sling your backpack on your shoulder

“What? ME? Never! I might be handsome ad. charming but I am no Dahmer”

“Oh thank god, because you’ve got the glasses for it” You pat his chest as you pass him and flick off the light in the practice room

“You’re off your axis I’m not wearing any glasses.” he jogs a little to catch up to you

“Well you do kind of have that satanic I’m gonna stab you in the heart and sacrifice you to lord Baphomet kind of look going on. It works with the hair and all but there’s something a little Halloweeny about you.”

“That’s just rude little miss English teacher.”

‘I am not dressed like an English teacher!”

“Cause I’m looking at a denim skirt with an embroidered apple motif and a turtle neck cashmere sweater.”

“Ok, sorry I have style.”

“yeah, that of a widower with three cats named after famous jockeys.” He mumbles under his breath Before you can protest he loudly announces ‘there she is’ and pats the side of his navy blue van he throws open the pack door and very carefully slides your instrument in

“Climb in,” he motions with his head toward the passenger seat. You do, the car smells a little stale and you have to clear an old bag of take-out food that only had an empty box and some crumpled-up napkins. under that, you discover a box of condoms with ‘textured for her pleasure’ written in fancy gray cursive 

‘with three new textures huh’ you aloud and slap the box with your fingernails

“Hey put those down!” He snatches the box out of your hand and tosses it somewhere behind the center console “For your information, those ribbed got some tourist girl across the finish line twice

“Oh, really so have you just kidnapped my cello and put us in your little sex dungeon?”

“Hey, you better quit mouthing out if you want that rootbeer float.”

“Yes, sir.” You saluted badly, sat back on the passenger seat, and tucked your knees to your chest. He tried to gulp silently, but that ‘yes sir’ shook his stomach. He takes you through the cracked door of the twenty-four hour seven eleven.

"Sup man," He waves at the cashier without looking at him and books it for the ice cream machine.

"Here, take a cup," He hands you one of the biggest sizes of cups. "Then, just fill up the cup with the vanilla ice cream or whatever other flavor floats your boat."

"Who in their right mind would make a coffee root beer float?"

"Isn't that an Italian thing?" He pulls the cup from your hand and starts filling it with vanilla ice cream. "Like they put a scoop of ice cream and like espresso?"

"I don't know; I've never left Indiana." You accept the plastic straw Eddie hands you

"Really?" He gets a straw and takes a few steps to a large Coca-Cola dispenser. He blindly puts his cup beneath the cherry coke fountain. "Where are you from?"

"Indianapolis. but we- uh my dad and I- moved here when a job opened up for the band teacher."

"oh shit, your dad took old Mr. Nalistskys place?"

"I guess so," you'd shrugged and put your cup under a nearby Barq's rootbeer dispenser. "The last one dropped dead, and the houses here are pretty cheap.

"Yeah, that's cause everyone here is poor."

"Oh?" you pulled the paper wrapper off your straw and crumpled it up, "Are you poor, 'cause we're pretty poor."

"Yeah," Eddie started walking you back to the exit "My uncle and I live at the trailer park a couple miles away.

"Oh, my dad was looking at one, but after living in a one-bedroom apartment for the last 12 years, he wants some space."

"That's nice," the bell rings as you leave, and the cashier says, 'bye to Eddie "I'd kill to live in a bungalow."

"Oh, don't get me wrong the place is a real fixer-upper. We have to convert the basement into a bedroom or possibly the attic, but the house is still a one-bedroom."

"Well, go with the basement if you want to feel like a dungeon troll or a prisoner. If you want to feel like a vampire, go with the attic, although the attic will make it hard to sneak out." Eddie suggests as he jauntily waves his straw around.

"Noted, I turn eighteen next month, so my dad won't care bout sneaking out, but he might care about sneaking someone in." you shove your straw in the sweet-sludgy mixture and suck some up. Meanwhile, Eddie chokes a little. He clears his throat and opens the passenger door for you.

"Why'd you seize up like that?" you enquire when he shuts his driver's door.

"I just sometimes forget most seniors are 17."

"Well, how old are you?"

"You'd run for the hills if I told you."

"You think this van isn't enough for me to put my cross trainers on?" he chuckles boyishly at your sass

"uh, well, I've flunked senior year twice, so I'll be twenty in April."

"Oh, what, two years older than me? You thought that would scare me? In the city, my best friend had a boyfriend who was 23, and we were sophomores!" you laugh a little at the end. He laughs too but then adds

"That's not bad; that's a crime."

"Yeah?" you chew on your lip. "Would you call it a crime if I wanted to kiss you?" Eddie wants to formulate a witty response, but it seems you've fried his brain. Besides, you're already crawling over the center console.

[cooloddball]

something i love about cockles is that because there is so much of them at a young age that we can see in either filmography or photography, we really can picturehow the two looked for fics at certain times. like i always found it funny to read destiel fics years ago where dean was this bad boy and cas was the geeky shy boy or something and like i CANT PICTURE IT because misha was so weirdly good looking in a quirky way as a teen and then as a young adult i always picture him with the long hair and he is SO HOT and the Jensen is like this choir boy-boy scout as a teenager and then as a young adult was like a twink ken doll and also SUPER FUCKING PRETTY and im like my god if 21 year old jensen and 25 year old misha had ever been in the same frame, it would have been nuclear. i always wonder how they would react to each other at that age. like looks wise and personality wise. thoughts?

OMG, this is an ask that requires a person with very high analytical skills and while I don't think I am either qualified or well equipped to answer it perfectly, I have never been one to back away from a challenge so I will give it a try.

First, we have young Jensen who is so pretty it's unfathomable how he became this extremely handsome man. It's like he gets finer with age. His face is just perfect and I love that he’s more than his looks, he works really hard, gives his all and is super smart and thoughtful.

Have I mentioned I love him so much. I love Jensen. Even my bf keeps saying “Yes I know you love Dean. I get it.” I always have to remind him I love both Jensen and Dean because they are different. Anyway I’m sure he’s dreading watching s3 of The Boys with me because I will keep re-watching all the Soldier Boy scenes. He rolls his eyes every time I re-watch spn because he knows I will be talking about Dean for weeks thereafter.

Moving on from my unwarranted ramblings about Jensen. 

As you said, when he was younger he looked like a Ken doll and gave off twink vibes. I mean...

Jensen is was the kind of pretty that was unreal and kind of unapproachable in the sense that you wouldn't feel worthy standing in front of such magnificence.

Jensen was on a whole other level. You know like those models, you see on magazines advertising clothes and you know or even if you bought those jeans or bought that dress you would never look as good as them because there's only one of them.

Then we have Misha. Misha has always been handsome. He has maintained his features. Even now that he's older, he still looks the same not much has changed.

Young Misha looks like he was one of those nerdy kids in HS who didn't know how good-looking they were and was often surprised when both boys and girls were drawn to him.

Misha is handsome and has all the features that every handsome man has, a sharp jawline, those cheekbones. Also, Misha's eyes are so big and so gentle. IDK what to say. His beauty is gentle in that he is approachable and he looks relatable.

God, I hope this makes sense because if it isn't, I have failed, but I keep trying until I answer your question.

Then we have them young long-haired.

Long-haired Misha is making my knees weak. He looks like he's so bad, he's the guy your mama warned you about. Long-haired Jensen looks like if you kissed him he'd ask you to pray with him because the good book says you have to wait until your wedding night or something akin to that.

This is getting long so more thoughts below:

Here is young cockles alongside each other.

Jensen here looks like the kind of guy who knows he's pretty and he owns it while Misha looks like that shy kid who is too sweet for his own good and Jensen takes him under his wing and shows him the ropes of how everything runs.

I actually think if these two had met when they were younger, it would've been total sexual annihilation. I mean the sexual chemistry between them is palpable. It hangs in the air every time they are close to each other. I mean they are middle-aged men, Misha is pushing 50 and somehow Jensen still can't get enough of him. H pops boners left and right. Well, mostly left because that's how he hangs but man, I honestly can't even imagine what our world would be today if these two met say 20 years ago instead of 13 years ago.

I 100% believe either of these things could've happened:

neither of them would have a career in Hollywood;

they would be the hottest gay couple in Hollywood with 3 kids;

one of them would have a successful career and the other one would've lost it all,

it would be much like it is today with them living in the shadows. Only now there would be way more rumours.

I also doubt if they had met 20 years prior that Misha would've been hired to join spn because every director/producer would know of their chemistry and we know cvv hates the gays so we wouldn't have destiel. I can't imagine a world without destiel in it. Can you?

Btw it is also imperative to note that back then Jensen was a staunch Christian. I'm not saying that he isn't now but he was the guy who used to thank Jesus Christ when he won an award.

Misha on the other hand was a rebel. He's the guy who ran naked in Chicago with a group of friends in a snowstorm. So they were two very different people back then and although they still are different, I think they met at the best time possible and that's why they have lasted this long.

As for Cas and Dean, I think they met when they were relatively young, Dean was 29 & Cas was only a few billion light-years old. But I think it wouldn't have mattered when they met, they would've still made the same choices they made and defied all odds and Chuck to save the world.

I honestly don't know what I'm on about anymore but that's my two cents. Hope it makes sense.

[crimsonwolfie]

A Love Like In The Movies - Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Prompt: You (the reader) have had a crush on Stiles, your best friend, since forever. Only...he likes the popular girl, Lydia...or so you thought.

Warnings: tinges of sadness, loneliness and a hint of heartbreak...but a ton of fluff :)

Word count: 3,071

masterlist

You tug at your bag, shoving about 3 books in at once in an attempt to be out of class as soon as the bell rings. Walking with your head down and hands clasping your bag up, you harshly bump into the new kid Henry, knocking him to the floor along with all his books and your papers....clearly you never remembered why your nickname was ‘Wobbly Whittmore’.

“Oh my gosh, i’m so sorry!” You utter with one hand on your mouth and the other helping him up off the floor. He stares up at you with a dazed look and a small smirk, watching you help scramble up his papers and books.

“It’s chill, don’t worry”

You look up at him with a shy smile, clearly embarrassed for your clumsiness. “It’s not, honestly i’m so sorry. You haven’t even been here for a week and already you’ve been practically beaten up..” you shake your head “that usually happens at least 3 months in” you wink at him, laughing lightly. Henry laughs back whilst collecting more papers from the floor.

As you both sigh, your hands collide briefly. It was just for a moment...but it made you feel something. At first it was shock, but then something you’ve wanted to feel for so long...just with someone else...Stiles. Henry’s eyes dart up at you, his cheeks heating up slightly.

“I...sorry i should get going” he quickly adverts his gaze and gets up, picking up what’s in his hands “how many people can say they’ve encountered the nice Whittmore in their first week, huh?”

“Oh god you know about my brother already?” you huff, handing him his books “Some friendly advice since you’re obviously a decent guy...stay far away from him.” You laugh, once again feeling embarrassed for being related to...well...Jackson.

“Yeah he has a...well...a reputation so to speak. Thanks again, see you around, Y/N”

“Later Henry!”

Walking through the halls you can’t help but think of Stiles. He’s adorable, cute, beautiful, funny, smart, geeky but in the best way, kind, gentle...the list quite literally goes on forever. But in all the time you’ve known him...he’s always liked Lydia. The girl who your brother used to date. Since they broke up, Stiles has never been so smitten. Sure, she’s gorgeous and actually really nice...but she’s who he likes...she’s not you. I mean, you never know...he could like you. You’ve never actually mentioned it to him. But then if you do, and he turns you down, you’d be crushed... completely!

“Hey Y/N!” Stiles appears from around the corner of the lockers, making you jump a little.

“Jesus Stiles, don’t do that!” You hiss as you hold your hand over your heart. He throws his head back giggling. ‘God how cute he looks when he’s happy’ the little voice in your head says.

“You up for a movie marathon after school? I got your favourites...” he moves closer

“Harry Potter?!” You squeal, clapping your hands together 

“Only the best for the best” he smiles with all teeth showing. You silently fist pump the air as he holds his hand out for you to high five him, which you do. Your hands hover in the air, skin hot to the touch, until he breaks apart and places his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll go and find Scott and ask if he’s in. Knowing him, he’ll want to bring Allison and with Allison comes...”

“Lydia” you sigh

“Yes! She’s just so brilliant, isn’t she?” Stiles hummed, his face cheeky and merry like a child eating ice cream. You tried to hide the hurt with a faint smile, because seeing Stiles so happy just warmed your heart. You didn’t want to be the one to ruin it.

“What’s up Y/N/N?” Stiles’ smile faded into a frown, concern painted across his perfectly honeyed eyes. Seeing this, you can practically feel your heart drop.

You fiddle with the rings on your fingers as your soft Y/H/C hair slips in front of your face. “What? No...nothing. Rough day that’s all-”

“HEY Y/N” You look up to see Henry running towards you with one arm stretched out towards you, the other holding his bag strap. “You left this, when we spoke earlier” he hands you a pile of papers, all with your name on.

“Oh, my god...I’d be totally screwed if I didn’t have this for tomorrow’s math class. I’m so sorry. They must have got mixed up with your papers” you take the papers out of his hand and shove them into your bag, smiling shyly at both boys staring at you. “Thanks Henry, you saved my math grade” you laugh, causing Henry to blush and bite his lip ever so subtly, placing his hand on your arm and squeezing it playfully.

“No worries, Y/N. I’ll see you around” he winks at you, earning a frown from Stiles. 

“Who’s that geezer?” He remarks, his face furrowed with a mix of both dislike and anger. Little did you know, Stiles didn't like seeing other guys flirt with you. He began to feel this deep pit in his stomach, his blood beginning to boil. 

You turn to face Stiles, pushing your hair back behind your ear. Sheepishly you pat him on the shoulder “i’ll see you at 3? Parking lot?”

“Yeah, sure.” He replies hesitantly, fidgeting with the rim of his flannel. You notice something’s got him wound up but decide it’s probably just him nervous to spend time with Lydia and continue to walk down the hall, making your way to health class.

━━━━━━━━

All throughout the rest of your classes for the day, you just felt empty. Nothing but heartbreak, emptiness, loneliness. Thoughts of him and Lydia snuggling up in blankets whilst eating popcorn and watching the movie kept bubbling around your brain. You tried to snap out of it, but nothing would work. You thought about just cancelling on the meet after school, knowing it would be way less painful. ‘They probably wouldn’t even notice I'm gone’ you thought. Your mind was like a prison that you couldn't escape...

“this must have been what Sirius Black felt like for 12 years” you mutter under your breath, not caring who heard. Sounds of faint chattering, pencils scribbling and the monotone voice of Mrs Rawlings can be heard around you, but none of it distracts your train of thoughts. Just begging for some sort of peace, you crash your head into your arms on the table.

“Hey, Y/N” you felt a gentle nudge on your forearm and look up to see Scott staring down at you, his hand on your arm. “What’s up with you dude? And who’s Sirius Black?”

You sigh with an overly dramatic eye roll, unwillingly plucking up enough strength to say once again that you’re ‘fine just a bit tired that’s all’...

“Tired.” is all you can spit out before shoving your head back into your arms. Little did you know, Scott could sense what you were feeling...I mean you didn't lie - he sensed tiredness...just mentally. Along with hurt, pain and loneliness.

“You sure? Well maybe after school you’ll feel better. Say, d’you reckon Allison likes...I don’t know...flowers? I... I was going to get her a bunch before I pick her up to go to Stiles’” You felt your tears drop into your sleeves, soaking both your jumper and your face as Scott continued. “Do girls like flowers? I’d ask Lydia but I'm closer with yo...”

“Yeah flowers whatever.” you mutter without lifting your head up. Scott scrunched his face, his brows furrowing. Usually, you were so much more supportive and excited for him - heck you were even more excited than him when you found out about him and Allison! You guys always told each other everything. ‘Something is definitely going on’ he thought to himself. He decided it was best to not say much more right now since he was already on a report in Mrs Rawlings’ class.

Just as Scott was about to hand you a note in class, the final bell rang. Instantly you popped up and grabbed your books, practically sprinting out of the door. Scott tried to stop you, but was called behind class by the teacher. You knew he was going to follow you, that's why you ran. No matter what, he couldn't see you like this, otherwise he wouldn’t drop it and would demand to know who hurt you - how could you tell him it was his own best friend?! As you’re jogging, you bump into the one person you wanted to avoid...

“Woah, slow down there cowgirl” Stiles holds your shoulders with his hands, his grip firm and comforting. He takes one look at you and notices your wet, blotchy eyes. You hang your head low in an attempt to hide your face from him...clearly it doesn't work.

“Hey, hey, hey! What’s up? Who hurt you?! his smile fades drastically upon seeing the state you were in. Obviously you weren't going to tell him, so you just decide to make up something...

“I failed my health class for the semester”

“Y/N it’s not the end of the world, you can always retake!” he sighs

You turn over to him with your hands in the air, shaking your head. “No you don’t un...you know what, Stiles? I can’t come over later. I’m sorry.” 

He steps back in surprise, both hands leaving your shoulders and grabbing his bag straps around his arms. Suddenly, you feel angry at him...though you instantly regret snapping at him. “i...I’m sorry” is all you can stutter as you run out the door, leaving Stiles standing there wondering what he did wrong, for what felt like hours, until Scott saw him.

“dude what're you doing? We got a marathon to start” he smacks Stiles on the back full pelt, leaving Stiles to stumble a bit.

“Have you spoken to Y/N today?” he asks, his voice trembly, quiet.

“Of course I have. Why, haven’t you?” The alpha replies

“No I have, it’s just...she was upset and i tried to help but she just...” he trails off   as Scott steps closer, Stiles’ eyes dull.

“She just what?” he asks, his voice calm and gentle

“She said she failed health class...”

“Wait, no that's not true - I got pulled behind class today because Mrs Rowlings wants me to have a tutor for health class and suggested Y/N since she’s acing everything!?” Scott explained. Stiles jerked his head, brows furrowing once again.

“Wait what?” his hand flew to his forehead as he leaned against the lockers beside him. “She snapped at me. I think I did something, Scotty...but I don’t know what. She’s been distant for a while now ever since Jackson and Lydia broke up, and I mean I know that her brother hates us but I just didn't think Y/N would choose her brother over us or me and i...”

“Stiles, stop.” Scott grabs both of Stiles’ shoulders and makes direct eye contact with him. “Listen, okay? I think I know what’s up”

“You do?” Stiles’ eyes brightened insantly. He knew something was wrong with his best friend and he knew he would do anything to fix that.

“She likes you, dude. Really likes you. And I thought you would have figured that out by now...she’s always doodling your name in class and covers it whenever someone passes by. Plus, she talks about you all the time.” Scott understood why you had been distant, and he didn’t blame you.

Stiles’s cheeks flushed a bright shade of red as a smile began appearing. His heart started pounding quicker than Quicksilver in the X-Men films, butterflies swarming around his stomach and ribcage. “Seriously? Then why is she distancing herself from me?”

“Because she still thinks you’re in love with Lydia...her heartbeat quickens when she’s with you, or when you guys touch in some way” Scott’s tone becomes more serious, which is unusual for Scott. Typically, he’s always goofy around Stiles so clearly he meant what he was about to say next... “But when you’re with Lydia, her mood changes. I can sense it...It’s sort of sad, lonely...” his face melts just thinking of all the times he’s felt that same pain. “You gotta tell her how you feel, Stiles. Tonight.”

“But I can’t...she’s not coming!” Stiles replies with a croaky voice.

“Then you go to her!” Scott replies, his eyes wide with hope and his hands pressing on Stiles’ back, pushing him towards the door “go now, dude!” Stiles picks up his pace and jogs to the door, one hand gripping his bag strap and the other fiddling with his keys in his pocket. “And let me know how it goes” Scott shouts as Stiles leaves the building.

━━━━━━━━

As you reach your front door, you feel a tear trickle down your cheek. All you could think of was Stiles. How he would, at this moment, be snuggling and giggling with Lydia. You have nothing against her, in fact you are actually really fond of her, but it breaks your heart to know you aren't the one who can make the boy you love, fall for you. A pain runs through your chest as you slam the door shut, your breathing wheezing. Leaning against the door, you slide down...completely breaking down.

“Why doesn’t he look at me that way?” you mutter to yourself, head in arms as your cheeks soak into your sleeves. “All I've ever done is try and make him happy, try and make him realise how incredible he is...and he still doesn't see me the same way”

Nose sniffling, eyes red, head fuzzy, hands shaking and top wet...you get up. ‘You did the best thing. It was the right decision to stay home’ you think, knowing it would have just ruined your friendship if you told him how you felt. And anyway, you wanted him to be happy. And clearly, that wasn't with you...

You ran upstairs and changed into a comfy pair of joggers and an oversized top, chucking your slippers on and grabbing a blanket before heading back downstairs. If you couldn't join their movie night - you’d have your own! 

Snacks and a drink were sitting on the table beside you on the sofa, with the television on ready and curtains closed. Just as you had got yourself in a comfy position, the doorbell rang. You grunted, kicking the blanket off your legs and dragging yourself towards the front door. Opening it, you felt your breath escape you. It was Stiles, standing at the door, with a bouquet of beautiful flowers in his hands. His hair was messy as if he’d run his fingers through it a thousand times, his cheeks were flushed brighter and pinker than bubblegum, looking as if he was out of breath from rushing somewhere. You go to say something, but before you had the chance, Stiles speaks, “Hi! I uh....I didn’t know whether you were mad at me or whether you were just having a rough day but it seemed like you were mad at me so I wanted to see if you were okay and uh...I got you these” His arms stretched to give you the flowers, his face ridden with nerves. You looked down at the flowers and then back up to Stiles’ face.

“Why would you think i was mad at you?” You questioned, brows furrowing at the confusion of what was happening. “These are gorgeous, thanks Stiles” you coo with a smile on your face, taking the flowers from Stiles’ hands. As you grab them, your hands touch Stiles’, causing your cheeks to flush and your heart to flutter. Stiles’ own cheeks flushed at the touch of your hands, too.

“You seem distant with me lately. And Scott told me why...” he begins, fingers fidgeting with the rim of his checkered shirt “I like Lydia...” he trails off.

Upon hearing these words, you feel your heart drop. Mouth dry and sadness creeping into your mind, you feel clouded with emotions and thoughts. Why would Stiles come over, give you flowers and then declare his love for Lydia? “Yeah I kno...” you begin until he cuts you off,

“She’s my friend. And she’s amazing...but she doesn’t wait for me after classes. She doesn’t call me to check in once in a while. She doesn’t do anything in her power to make sure I'm happy or know I'm loved...” his beautiful brown eyes stared lovingly into yours, your heart lifting and beating faster with each sentence he says...

“She doesn’t know me, and I mean the real me...the one who suffers with anxiety, who needs a nightlight and needs constant reassurance on even the simplest things” you smirk at the mention of a nightlight because, well, you were the one who actually got it for him...because you knew he wasn't doing too good. “She is my friend, Y/N, but she isn’t my best friend. And I like her, but I don’t love her...because I love you. It’s always been you”

There’s a soft wind that blows between you both, causing you to shiver and shake with both excitement and chills. Stiles’ eyes glittered in the sunlight like an ocean surface in summer, tears welling in them. You bit your lip which trembled with an overcoming emotion of happiness as you leant forward and grabbed him, cupping his face in your soft hands and bringing your lips to his in a desperate yet passionate way. Feelings of euphoria and desire filled both of your hearts like a fire burning bright, lips moving sweetly in sync as in destined for one another. His hands wrap around your waist as you bring your hands through his hair. Nothing felt more perfect than this moment...all your worries gone and your heart fuller than ever before because the boy who holds your heart, who has held your heart for years, is finally in your arms. Stiles’ warmth radiates onto your cheeks as you smile into the kiss, earning a smile from Stiles, too. Breaking away to breathe, you both look down and giggle, hands intertwining with Stiles rubbing circles on your palm with his thumb.

You look up at him, smiling, as you speak “I...I love you too”. Stiles coos as he pulls you closer to him to break the gap now between you both, “I gathered” he laughs, kissing the top of your forehead affectionately. “So, how about that marathon?”

Hope you guys like it! x

[marky4l]

Step by Step / Mark Lee

step by step / mkl

pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

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

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

notes: lia yeonjun chan hyuck jeno all make tiny appearances 

word count: 17.2k 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stares back at you. “No.”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 1: Denial|

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Two days later, you meet Mark again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

You eye him. “Okay…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a beat, and then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mark and I held hands. But it—”

“You what?!”

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

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

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

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

She nears you. “Explain.” 

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

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

“You like him, you bitch!” 

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m cherishing the party privately.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 2: Anger|

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

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

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

“I know,” you say, nervous. You gulp.

“Okay. If you’re n—”

“Mark and I kissed.”

She sits up and turns to look at you.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My legs are wobbly.”

“Bullshit. My back aches.”

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

He sits up. “What’s reality?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A toboggan, you mean.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 3: Bargaining, Depression|

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This all feels too real, now.

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You knew?”

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

—

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

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

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

“You sound nervous,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 4: Acceptance|

“Acceptance is just that. Just accepting that you love that person after weeks or months of all the other stages. With her, it was. Like. It’s the whole sitting down after silence, having some time for the revelation to set in before you realize you love them. Or like them? Well, love them, I guess. But I don’t know why you would be asking me this.”

You bury your head further into Mark’s shoulder, your eyes strained from how long they’d been trained onto your screen. You smile up at Daniel, thanking him for the input and beginning to type it in, watching Lia doze off on his shoulder. “We’re asking because we’re not quite there yet,” Mark hums, “it’s just February. It’s barely been two months.” You nod, watching Mark type where you left off on the document. Daniel snorts from across you. “You’re just about, I guess.” Mark chuckles, shrugging so your head bounces off his shoulder unceremoniously.

“Like I’d ever fall in love with that shitstorm,” he says pointedly.

“Oh, and I’d fall in love with this dickwad?”

“You’re perfect for each other. Bullying, but we all know Mark brought back gifts from Canada and that you stitched an initial onto his sweater.”

“To practice my embroidery. Also, I stitched Mark’s initial. M. Asshole.”

“Okay,” whistles Daniel, his hand unconsciously coming up to make sure Lia doesn’t fall off his shoulder. “But hey, you’re just about to submit this paper and I’m fondly remembering all the times you despised each other. And when you”—he points at you, devilish grin on his face—“started gushing to Lia about how he”—he then turns to Mark—“kissed you at Johnny’s party.”

“God, it’s not the time for that yet, we’re still a fresh couple,” you groan, burying your head in your hands. “You have so much dirt on me, Choi.” Mark just laughs, though, loudly, bringing the other cafe-goers’ attention to yours. He bites your shoulder to stifle it, eliciting a laugh from you. “I agree, there should be a certain time requirement for pre-relationship embarrassing stories,” Mark says, closing his laptop. Lia gets up at that point, already half-awake from the ruckus (AKA Mark’s laugh), pulling on Daniel’s sleeve. “Alright, and that’s my cue to get this girl some more coffee and then go.”

“Mm, I’ll come with,” you say, “I need a refresher before we leave soon, anyway.”

You walk in between them, your fingers laced in Lia’s as she squeezes them sleepily. They order first and then they’re off with a smile and a polite goodbye, leaving you to order your drink. You gaze up at the menu, and then down at—

“Long time no see,” Chan says with a knowing beam. “How is your not boyfriend boyfriend?”

“Well, he’s my boyfriend now.”

“See, I always know. What do you want?”

“An iced ca—how did you know?” You ask, tempted.

“It’s just…the energy? It was a hit or miss, but I kinda got that feeling that something was going to happen.”

“Hmm,” you hum. “An iced caramel then.”

“And a black coffee for her best friend!” Hollers a new voice that you could never miss, turning slowly towards the entrance to meet Donghyuck’s crazy eyes. He’s in a suit, which isn’t unusual given the sheer amount of presentations he’s had to do since the new year started. You roll your eyes but put in the extra cash anyway, much to Chan’s amusement. Hyuck nears you with a sly grin. “I hear you’ll be submitting your paper soon. I just want my name in there so I’m in your professor’s good graces.”

“She’s not even going to be your professor, Hyuck,” you say, taking your drink and smiling at Chan. You and Donghyuck both walk back to where Mark’s sitting, you beside him and Hyuck across the both of you. “Yes, but it pays to be in somebody’s good graces, I swear. See what happened? I got you two together. I orchestrated your entire love st—”

“Okay, now you’re just lying, Hyuck,” Mark says with a laugh, finishing up the first few paragraphs and closing his laptop. “We’re not even in love.” But his friend lets out a teasing smile, his eyes narrowed, and he gets up with a loud farewell and alibi about “being needed by my better friends.” You assume he’s talking about Jeno.

—

You walk to Mark’s room alongside him, thanks to the promise of his roommate, Jaemin, sleeping at a friend’s. Your fingers are intertwined loosely. The sun’s setting and Mark’s room is sheathed in beautiful shades of orange and pink, a vast array of dusk settling over the space. It happens quietly, but full of laughs, which is how it happens when you’re both tired and/or shitfaced. You do this a lot—a routine of sharing new songs or books you’d picked up over the week and then making out while they play in the background or while one of you read. It’s awfully, horribly, terribly fucking intimate. 

“Your bra sucks,” he jokes.

You love it.

“Get better abs and we can talk about it,” you counter, poking his toned stomach. He really, fully guffaws at that, pulling you onto his lap and then tugging his guitar out from where it stands at the corner. You flop back onto his bed, watching him play—and then registering the familiar opening of the Jonas Brothers song you used to request nearly everyday. “Lovebug,” you muse with a smile, singing along to his voice, carried away. You’re sleepy and light, and you know deep down—in that space of yourself where you’re all but honest—that you were going to fall in love with him someday.

Later, when all you’re doing is hugging him as he reads your latest Philosophy requirement to you, he pauses.

“Is this the 21st century idea of love?” He asks idly, unclasping your bra and connecting the moles on your shoulder. You hum. 

“It’s the Gen Z idea,” you say, connecting the ones on his bare back. “And this isn’t love.”

“Corny.” he smiles against your collarbones. You kiss his neck. It’s all very gradual.

—

hope you liked it :) drop an ask! I absolutely love all types of feedback 

[luxshine]

Moon Knight episode 4 ramblings

So.. I couldn't wait a week when I saw that screencap of Marc and Steven together so... I just HAD to watch episode 4.

I am SO going to end up doing a review like with Supernatural, ain't I? And DEAR LORD DON'T LET THAT PLOT BUNNY IN MY HEAD!

AHEM

So, obviously, Steven Grant is my woobie husbando, he will ALWAYS be my woobie husbando and I adore him. Thing is, yes, I used to love him from the comics, but in the comics? I am a bit more of a Marc girl. Here? Oh, god, Oscar Isaac gives Steven SO MUCH LOVE and so much personality that I just can't not love Steven as my #1.

If you don't read the comics, I have to explain. While TV Marc has pretty much 99% of Comic Marc's personality, mannerisms and backstory (Seriously, as of episode 4 the only difference is the fact that he MARRIED Layla whereas Comic Marc never married Marlene, and Marlene was present when her father died so there was no way to blame Marc for it. And now, I wonder where TV Frenchie is), TV Steven is NOTHING like Comic Steven. Comic Steven (Who is currently, ahem, literally in a sarcophagus in Marc's mind so, lol) started as... well, to be as nice as I can? A Bad Bruce Wayne copy. He had to be rich, to get Marc and Jake money for Moon Knight stuff, but he was... very vapid. And while Lemire did a lot for him (I think by now you know I WORSHIP Lemire's Moon Knight run) , he was stilll... the less useful personality. Even as he was also the oldest AND the one created to protect Marc from very nasty memories and encounters with a pedo nazi. I wish I was kidding about that last part.

But here? Here Steven could easily be the ACTUAL uhm, don't want to say first or original as I know that's the wrong word but... born to the body? And if he isn't? It doesn't matter because he STILL has a life. He is geeky as hell, he's charming, he's shy. Seeing him geek out in episode 3 about being in the Pyramid of Giza and now here when he found Alexander the Great's tomb? Those things make him far, far more real for me than him kissing Layla (Although that was to be expected. In Moon Knight, the ONE thing that the three personalities have in common is always their love interest. I don't think there was ever a run in which only one of the alters loved the current designated love interest or each alter had their own love interest. Marlene is... Pretty much untouchable right there with Mary Jane Watson) because those are things that are HIS, and not shared with Marc.

Speaking of, poor Marc. He is REALLY lost without Khonshu, for all he yelled and screamed about Khonshu being an ass. And... uhm.. HOW many gods have the egypcian pantheon stoned? Seriously, it's about time they start re-thinking their approach or Lokigator could take over in three seconds flat. And probably do a better job of protecting humanity.

I do wonder if that third sarcophagus at the end was Jake. I do hope it was Jake. I am DYING to meet Jake and see what Oscar Isaac does with him, given how perfectly different Steven and Marc are. And how little episodes we have left to meet him!

Ethan Hawke, btw, is also deserving of an Oscar (Just not Oscar Isaac, no RPF here). His "Steven Grant" was hilariously Shatnery, and his Dr. Harrow nice enough to ALMOST believe his worry for Marc. ALMOST.

May Calamawy is perfect, and I hadn't mentioned her before, sorry, but Too many things in my head. I love how Layla is so strong and so capable of taking care of herself. YES she is broken, and YES she has the worst husband ever (not that Marc is bad. He's just bad at communicating) but HELL if she's going to let that stop her from doing the right thing!

Loved seeing Crawley moving! Even if it was so short. And the asylum sequence was perfect and seriously, right out of Lemire's. I missed Khonshu, but, well, he's a bit petrified right now.

I'll admit, there was only ONE thing that I disliked from the episode, and it was Arthur's scene with Layla. Not because it was not gorgeous, incredibly shot, acted and photographed. The scene itself was great, especially as Arthur only used ENOUGH information to make Layla doubt Marc, without actually LYING to her (Seriously, he reminds me so much of The Truth... he's like a mixture of The Truth and Sun King and of course, Dr. Emmit - aka Ammit, who is a woman in the comics a- that I love him) BUT... it makes pretty clear that the scene in the Asylum is not REAL. That Marc is NOT imagining everything, and that whatever it's going on in the asylum is fake even BEFORE we meet Taweret because it's something that neither Marc nor Steven witnessed. So it makes it a bit obvious that yeah, our guys are a bit crazy, but not THAT crazy.

OTOH, I dunno how I would've kept that amazing scene later as a flashback so... I can live with it. After all, we are not that deep in mindgames that we'd think this is all in Marc's head (because btw, I LOVED that the one who woke in the Asylum was Marc and not Steven, since Steven would've made more sense given the whole "maybe you are imagining everything" angle.

Khonshu, these ramblings are getting longer every time. Damn you Marvel for only giving us 6 episodes! Please, be nice and, as you did with Loki, give us a second season!