#my sweet summer child who deserves the world
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e-dubbc11 · 2 days ago
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for the november rain thingy I would love to request the faaabulous song by 3 doors down 'landing in london' and my fave boy billy <3
My sweet Selene, while I was listening to this song, I felt compelled to write this fic from Billy’s POV. I hope that’s ok!
Thank you my friend for sending in your asks and for being so supportive, for reading and sharing my fics and for being a great friend. ♥️
Always A Yes
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Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.
Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader
Warnings: Angst, fluff, couple of swear words, smooches
Word Count: 1.6K-ish
Summary: Told from Billy’s POV. He realizes there’s more to life than just work and doesn’t want to lose you but is he too late?
A/N: As stated above, this is based off of the song Landing in London by 3 Doors Down. I’ll link it at the end.
As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕
She was the first one…and only one.
The first one who understood you, who showed you any genuine affection, the one you finally let see who you really are. And she was so…accepting.
It was an instant attraction when she walked into that bookstore, shaking the plump raindrops off of her umbrella, and revealing her beautiful eyes to you from beneath the hood of her raincoat.
She was almost disappointed that she had finally reached her destination. It meant she couldn’t walk in the rain anymore which was so pure in your eyes, like a child not wanting to get out of the pool because they were having too much fun.
But you wouldn’t know anything about that. The closest you ever came to a pool as a kid was the city flushing the fire hydrants on a hot summer day but that’s what you imagined she felt like after enjoying that walk in the rain.
She caught you staring, playfully scolded you for not wearing rain boots, and the rest is history.
She never judged you for the bad things you had done. It was the first time you had told anyone other than Frankie about her or him, the first time you let anyone in, the first time you…bared your soul.
It all made sense to her now…why you always had to be in control.
Slowly, she moved her hand from her lap and held it in the air before asking you, “May I touch you, Billy? I’ll understand if you say ‘no.’”
“It’s always a ‘yes’ with you, sweet girl.” You had told her.
Her fingertips touched the side of your head, her nails tenderly scratched your scalp, and brushed the back of your neck. Those touches were what you had craved ever since you were a kid, they were loving but not in a patronizing way or in a way where she pitied you. She touched you like you deserved it and she told you so.
“You deserve to be loved, Billy.” She had said with a warm smile.
The path you had been on before she came into your life just led to pain. You had gone through life fighting so many inner demons, thinking that you didn’t deserve love, that it was just a curse, and all the pain you’ve received was warranted.
She thought differently.
That’s why you hated to be away from her but you did have a business to run which took you all over the country and even all over the world.
You always felt terrible after lashing out at her. She didn’t deserve that. All she wanted was…you. And she understood you had a job to do, it just took you away from her more often than either one of you wanted it to.
You always promised to make it up to her with whatever she wanted but again, all she wanted was you. And during those longer business trips, the thought of her waiting for you back home was the only thing that brought a smile to your face.
Frankie always called you out on your bullshit.
“You found her, Bill. Don’t fuck it up.” He scolded.
She was never afraid to push back either which was another reason you loved her so much.
“Keep pushing me away, Billy and there'll be a day where you come home and I won’t be here!” She yelled.
That’s the last thing you wanted so you couldn’t lose her. You loved her and wanted her, forever.
Normally, you were calm and in control but on the flight home from London you were nervous and extremely anxious. Your thoughts were scattered like dandelion seeds after a gust of wind. Was she still upset after this last minute trip? She said she wasn’t but she didn’t answer your text this morning which you hated and she knew you hated it when she didn’t answer. She did it to push your buttons when you were being an asshole.
She normally met you at the airport, always so happy to see you, but after you picked up your bag, you looked around and didn’t see her smiling face.
“You have a good trip, handsome?” She always asked.
It never failed. She always asked about your day, your trip, if the coffee house was busy, and always noticed when you bought a new tie. She loved you, flaws and all. She loved you.
“Shit.” You said out loud, frantically looking around for her.
Glancing at your phone, you noticed she hadn’t even read your message from this morning and it scared you to think that this could have been what pushed her away for good.
Hustling outside with your bags, you figured you’d catch an Uber and head for home. Maybe she was waiting for you there.
When you looked up from your phone, there she was, with her beautiful smile and holding a sign at her waist that read, “Mr. Russo.”
Dropping your bags at your feet, you rushed over to her and squeezed her until you heard her gasp for air.
“You’re here.” You said, trying to catch your breath.
She smiled against your chest.
“Of course I’m here, baby. How was your trip, handsome?” She asked, kissing you on the cheek.
“I don’t wanna talk about that right now. I need to tell you something.” You said.
Confused, she replied, “Oh…ok. What is it, Billy? Are you alright?”
“I won’t be if I lose you. I can’t lose you, y/n!” You said.
She saw the look in your eyes. It took you back to when you were that scared little boy, standing all alone on the steps of that fire station, wondering if she was ever coming back. And flashing forward a handful of years later in the group home, realizing that she wasn’t coming back. You never wanted to feel that way again and you finally found someone who always wanted you, good times and bad.
She grazed your beard with her thumbs as she looked into your frightened eyes and said, “Hey…hey…hey…you’re not gonna lose me, Billy. I love you.”
Reaching into your jacket pocket, you said, “I’ve been carrying this around for weeks, going over in my mind of what I wanted to say but all I could come up with is that I wanna marry you.”
Periodically, during your travels, you would reach into your pocket to make sure the black velvet box was still there. The soft fabric was comforting and after a long day of meetings or staring at a computer screen, you’d open the box, stare at the beautiful diamond ring inside and pictured her saying yes.
It scared you to even think about her saying no.
You were doing something you never thought you would do. You were making yourself vulnerable, opening up, letting someone in…in every way possible.
On one knee, not caring about if your suit pants would be ruined or not, you slowly pulled back the top to the box revealing the sparkling oval shaped diamond inside.
Although shocked, she still kept her composure and firmly said, “Then ask me, Billy.”
She smiled as tears welled up in her eyes, you knew her answer already but you did as she asked anyway. She deserved that.
“Will you marry me, sweet girl?” You asked, holding the ring in front of you and in front of a crowd of people that had gathered outside.
She kneeled down in front of you, snaked her arms around your neck, and replied, “Yes baby, I will marry you. It’s always a ‘yes’ with you, Billy.”
The people all around you clapped, whistled, and cheered as you slipped the ring onto her finger and pulled her flush to your chest. You had missed the gentle scratches on the back of your neck, her nails raking against your scalp, and when she hummed against your chest after being away from her, even if it was just for a short period of time.
Smiling against her hair, a familiar scent invaded your sense of smell. It wasn’t her normal perfume, it was your cologne which made your stomach flutter just like the first time you saw her as she came in from the rain.
“You wearing my cologne, beautiful?” You asked.
She pulled away from your chest with a sly smile on her face and replied, “It makes me feel close to you when you’re away. Is that…ok?”
She looked up at you through her long, dark lashes and bit down on her bottom lip.
Closing the gap between your bodies, you leaned in and gently pressed your lips to hers. Her lip balm tasted sweet like salted caramel, she knew that was your favorite one, and you felt her melt into your kiss.
“Always.” You said, pulling away slightly to place a soft kiss on her forehead. “I love you too.”
You don’t know how long you stayed there, on your knees in crisp early winter air. You held her in your embrace until you couldn’t feel your fingers or your toes anymore, you held her until she stopped shivering, and until everyone around you dispersed.
Old habits are hard to break. But from that moment on, you silently made a promise to her that you would try your hardest to never push her away, listen to her, and vehemently love her until you take your last breath.
Because she was the first, she was the first and only one to give you a real chance, and she was the only one to say yes…to always.
And when the night falls in around me
And I don't think I'll make it through
I'll use your light to guide the way
'Cause all I think about is you
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itneverendshere · 1 month ago
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we say we’re different but we got the same eyes - r.c
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pairing: bitchy!pogue!reader x rafe
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you needed to stop taking other people shift’s. 
it’s not like you wanted to, but at least they were paying you to do so, enough to let you actually chill this summer without stressing about rent or whatever else adulthood decided to throw at you.
all you had to do was show up and do the job. first at lila’s dinner, now at the bougie country club, as a cart girl.
you’d done this before, and sure, the old men were always a little too handsy with their beer guts hanging over their tacky polos, but at least they tipped well. you could tolerate them. smile, giggle at their half-assed jokes, and let them feel like they still had it. 
fine. pay me for my pain, grandpa. 
today however, instead of your usual sugar-daddy wannabes, you were babysitting frat boys. fresh out of their first year of college, probably still hungover from their last keg stand.
nineteen-year-old idiots in pastel shorts and backwards hats, making everything about themselves.
“bro, you remember that party at kappa? dude, swear i blacked out after like, five shots.”
wow, five whole shots? congrats, you absolute child. should i get you a sticker for that?
don’t even get started on their conversations about girls. one of them, chad or brad or whatever his stupid name was, just had to loudly detail how some poor innocent girl “totally wanted him last night but was playing hard to get.”
yeah, bro, she was probably just trying to get through the night without having to mace your entitled ass.
it was constant. the whole damn morning. all they talked about was frat parties, girls they didn’t deserve, and how they "couldn’t wait to get back to school."
you'd give anything to remind them how utterly irrelevant their frat status was in the real world, but you couldn’t. nope. you had to keep your game face on, pour their drinks, and pretend like they weren’t giving you a headache that rivaled your worst hangovers.
at least the elderly snobs tipped well. sure, they were pretentious and acted like you were beneath them, but they'd slip you a twenty or more with a smug little wink. that made it easier to tolerate their "i’ve been golfing here since before you were born" bullshit.
but these brats?
half the time they forgot to tip at all, and when they did remember, it was a crumpled five like they were doing you some grand favor. and of course, of course, they couldn’t just keep their obnoxious, beer-breath comments to themselves. no, they had to make it worse by hitting on you—hard. 
painfully hard. it was like watching a car crash in slow motion, except instead of pulling over to help, you were stuck right in the middle, praying someone would just tow your ass out.
“yo, what’s your name again?” one of them asks. bryce, probably. his face just screams bryce.
he's leaning against the cart like he thinks it's going to make him look cool, but really, he’s just sloshing his drink all over the place. classy.
“it’s on my name tag,” you deadpan, pointing to the little badge pinned to your polo. you're not about to give him any more than that.
but he's not letting it go. “oh yeah? cute name for a cute girl. you single or what?”
jesus christ. here we go.
you resist the urge to roll your eyes so hard they’d get stuck in the back of your head. 
“’m here to work,” you sigh, voice sweet enough to mask the absolute disdain you're feeling. you know what comes next.
they always think they can charm you if they just keep going, like you are some kind of challenge.
“c’mon, don’t be like that,” another one chimes in, this one wearing sunglasses even though it's barely 9 a.m.
who do you think you are, pitbull? 
he gives you this sleazy grin like he thinks he's smoother than he actually is. “we could take you out after your shift. grab a drink. bet you’re fun, huh?”
fun? FUN?! if by fun he means fantasizing about driving this cart straight into the water hazard just to escape this conversation, then sure, you're a real blast.
you look around the course, hoping maybe one of the older golfers needs a refill or something—anything to get you away from this nightmare. no luck. it's just you and these clowns.
“i don’t date customers,” you say, a line you’d perfected at this point.
you plaster on your fakest smile, the kind that said please tip me and then leave me the hell alone. but bryce wasn’t giving up.
“you’re really gonna turn us down? i mean, we’re the best thing on this course right now.”
best thing?
the only thing they're the best at seems to be embarrassing themselves. this is the type of guy who probably thinks buying a girl a drink meant she owns him something.
you can't even be mad; it's almost... sad. almost.
“maybe you should focus on your game,” you suggest, glancing at his scorecard. “you’re, what, ten over par already?”
that shuts him up real quick, his face going from cocky to confused like he didn't expect you to know how golf worked.
his friend with the sunglasses? he's still trying.
“we can show you a good time, y’know. we’ve got a house down on the beach. you like boats?”
ah, yes. the boat move. the go-to for guys who think a half-assed yacht and a cooler full of cheap beer is the height of luxury.
you’d seen it a million times in this godforsaken town.
you're not impressed.
you shoot them another smile, “i like tips.”
they all blink confusedly, clearly not used to a girl calling them out so directly. the frat boys mumble something between themselves, looking awkward for the first time all day.
finally, one of them fishes a crumpled twenty out of his pocket and tosses it your way. 
oh, wow, big spender. 
you scoop it up, shoving it into your pocket and giving them a little nod. “thanks, boys. good luck with your game.”
you thought the twenty bucks might’ve bought you a few minutes of peace, but no. they're back at it, swinging at golf balls like they aren't trying to flirt in between their awful shots.
you roll the cart over to the next part of the course, half-listening to their constant chatter.
something about “last semester” this, and “pledge party” that. god, they just never stop. it's like someone hit the repeat button on the world’s most annoying playlist.
one of them calls you over again, like he can't wait five minutes for his next drink. you start prepping them, half tuning them out, just trying to get through it, when suddenly, miraculously, they shut the hell up.
for a second, you think maybe the universe is finally doing you a favor. you don't even question it, just start pouring drinks faster.
a quiet frat boy is a gift. but then you hear it:
“dude!” one of them practically tackles the other, all wide-eyed and hyped up like a little kid who just saw his favorite cartoon character. “is that rafe fucking cameron?!”
oh, for fuck’s sake.
your stomach drops. of course it has to be him. because clearly, your morning isn't being shitty enough. you don't even look at first. 
one of the guys starts flipping out, hitting his buddy’s shoulder like it's the coolest thing to ever happen.
“bro, no way. no way. that’s rafe cameron? he used to be the president of our frat, man. two years ago! he’s a fucking legend!”
legend? you almost laugh.
the only legend rafe is to you it's a legendary asshole. a smug, infuriating, gorgeous asshole who you have been avoiding like the plague. the same one who has been blowing up your phone nonstop, trying to get back into your life.
the same one you swore down you’d never sleep with again after he pulled that stunt at the dinner—and then, of course, ended up in his bed two nights ago. you haven't spoken to him since. you’d been ignoring him again—well, trying to—but now here he is. in the flesh. and these idiots are drooling over him like he's some kind of frat god.
you turn your head, and he's striding across the green like he doesn't have a care in the world. of course he looks good. he always does.
wayfarer’s pushed up in his hair, that cocky-ass grin on his face, wearing a polo like he's the face of a country club catalog. you know he’d see you any second. hell, he probably already has. 
yeah, you’d been avoiding him, and yeah, maybe you’d blocked his number twice, but that didn’t stop him from calling with a different one. or from somehow finding you the other night at the party when you were weak enough to let him back in, only to get burned again.
“holy shit, he’s coming this way,” one of the frat boys mutters, shaking with excitement.
you don't move, don't acknowledge him. but you can feel his eyes on you. it's like a sixth sense at this point. you'd crave it so much before, when it was all a silly game in your head, see how much you could push until he cracked and gave into you. now it's a curse.
the boys are watching him approach like he's some kind of celebrity.
“should we say something to him?” one whispers. “i heard he’s like, killing it in the business world now. family’s loaded.”
yeah, you think bitterly. killing it. if you count being a trust fund brat as an accomplishment.
rafe's closer now, and you know this moment is inevitable. the frat boys are giddy, already nudging each other, probably ready to beg him for networking advice or whatever the hell frat bros did.
you keep your eyes down, focusing on pouring the drinks, acting like you don't even notice him. like he doesn't phase you in the slightest.
“hey,” a familiar voice drawls. you don't have to lift your head to know it's him. naturally, he stops right by you. because why wouldn’t he?
“rafe fucking cameron!” one of the guys yells, unable to keep it together anymore. “you’re like a legend, man. kappa forever!”
you never cringed so hard in your life.
rafe smirks, that signature look spreading across his face. “yeah, somethin' like that.”
you clench your jaw, forcing yourself to keep your face neutral. no way in hell are you about to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he still gets to you. 
everyone else around you are tripping over their words just to get his attention. it's embarrassing to watch. the kids acting like he's some kind of messiah, not just some white rich guy with a trust fund and a bad attitude half the time.
“man, the outer banks is fucking sick,” one of them says, bouncing on his feet like an overexcited puppy. “we’ve been hitting the beaches, bars, y’know, living it up. and bro, the girls here? smoking hot.”
here we go. 
you pretend to be very invested in the cooler, rearranging the ice just to keep your hands busy. they're about to start pointing at you any second now; you can sense it.
the way they keep looking over at you made it obvious they're gearing up for something.
and then, like clockwork, it happens.
“yeah, man,” one of them gestures way too enthusiastically in your direction. “that cart girl over there? we’ve been trying all morning.”
oh, fuck right off, you resist the urge to throw a bottle at him.
you’d rather die than hear what lame pickup line is coming next, but what you really don't want to hear is whatever rafe's about to say.
there was a pause, as if he's taking a second to let it sink in. and when he finally does speak, his voice is all smooth confidence, casual as anything.
“so,” he starts, still with smirk you hate and know so well, “you’ve met my girl?”
my girl? my fucking girl?
one of them, manages to stammer, “uh—wait, she’s… she’s your girl?”
you can feel the tension creeping up the back of your neck. this's exactly why you’ve been avoiding him.
no matter what happened between you, no matter how messy things got, he always acted like he owned you in private. never in front of his friends, like just because you ended up in his bed, you were his to claim whenever he felt like it.
still keeping your eyes glued to the drinks, you feel your blood boil. you aren't his fucking girl. you're barely on speaking terms, aside from that one weak moment.
he's only saying it to mess with you.
one of the frat boys lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed. “damn, man. didn’t know you were still pulling like that.” he shoots a glance at you again, not even bothering to hide the once-over.
rafe just chuckles, that low, infuriating laugh of his, like he knows exactly how to get under your skin. “what can i say?” he drawls, as if the whole thing is just a game to him. “guess i’ve still got it.”
you're this close—this close—to snapping. you can feel your fists clenching at your sides. you're not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction. not here. not in front of these frat boys who're still looking at you like some kind of trophy.
rafe’s voice is closer now. you don't have to look up to know he's standing right by the cart.
“you good over there?” he asks, that fake casual tone still lingering.
you don't answer. just kept doing your job, biting the inside of your cheek so hard it hurts. but he isn't going to let it go. he never did when he wanted to prove a point.
“hey, baby.” he greets you again, leaning in slightly. you can feel his eyes burning into the side of your face. “you gonna pretend you don’t know me now?”
you take a deep breath, finally turning to face him. he's standing way too close, sunglasses pushed up on his head, that stupid expression plastered across his face.
the frat boys are all watching, wide-eyed, like they just stumbled onto some kind of reality show drama.
“you’re funny, cameron.” the guys all exchange glances, clearly picking up on the tension but too dumb to understand it, “can you guys give us a minute?”
one of them pipes up with an awkward laugh, “wait, but we—”
you don't let him finish. “one. minute.” 
they finally catch on that it isn't a request and before they can awkwardly protest or ask why, rafe tilts his head towards them, craning his neck just enough to raise a single brow. the change in his posture is subtle but enough to have them clamming up instantly.
like magic, their frat-boy bravado melts right off. it's wild how fast a bunch of college boys can shrink under the gaze of someone like him.
the power trip they’ve been riding for the last hour stop.
“uh, yeah, you know what?” one of them coughs out, backing up so fast he almost trips over his golf bag. “we should, uh… we’ll hit the bathroom. real quick.”
“yeah, yeah, we’ll be right back,” another one adds, practically stumbling over himself to follow.
they scatter like scared puppies, tails tucked between their legs, and you can't help the small, satisfied smirk that twitches at the corner of your mouth.
finally, a moment of peace.
except, it's not peace. not with rafe standing there. 
as soon as the frat boys are out of earshot, you spin around, without thinking, you shove him in the chest with both hands, hard enough to catch him off guard. he stumbles back a step, his face twisting into a look of surprise.
"are you fucking crazy?" you snap, "do you not get the fucking hint, country club? i don’t want this. i don’t want you here, and i sure as hell don’t want your bullshit claims that ’m your girl in front of those idiots. leave. me. alone.”
he steadies himself, raising both hands as if trying to calm you down. “’m trying to be better, okay? ’m trying. i apologized the other night, didn’t i? ’m—”
“no, you didn’t!” you look at him like he's the dumbest man on earth, cutting him off, your hands balled into fists at your sides. “you didn’t apologize! you said i was overreacting, that i was being ‘dramatic.’ then, you fucked me and acted like that made it all better.”
his jaw tightens, and he takes a deep breath as he glances around the mostly empty golf course before his eyes move back to you, his voice low but firm. "that’s not how i meant it—"
“you always have an excuse,” you interrupt, stepping closer, not backing down. “every time, it’s the same thing. you think a half-assed apology or a night in bed makes up for the way you treat me in public? like ‘m just some thing you get to claim whenever you feel like it?"
he visibly recoils at the word you chose, like it hurts him, “i know,” he finally mutters “i know i was a dick at that dinner. but ’m trying, okay? i’ve been calling you, texting you—”
“i didn’t ask. am i that good in bed? go find someone else.”
rafe’s hand flies up to pinch the bridge of his nose, a frustrated sigh escaping him. he draggs his tongue against his cheek. his voice coming out clipped, “i don’t want someone else,” he grunts out, sounding more exasperated than ever. “jesus fucking christ.”
you let out a laugh, stepping back, eyes rolling.
“oh, right. that’s it? ’m really that good in bed, huh? that’s why you’re here?” you cross your arms, your tone biting, daring him to say otherwise. “that’s all this has ever been, right? physical. you don’t call unless you want something. so what now? why are you trying so hard? what the hell are you trying for?”
he doesn't respond right away, his fingers are digging into the bridge of his nose like he's trying to hold himself together. the silence continues, and you can see him wrestling with his words. he's never been the type to say what he was feeling.
everything is buried under layers of cocky bravado, that impenetrable wall he put up to keep everyone at arm’s length. including you.
finally, he dropps his hand and takes a step closer, his voice coming out rough like he's forcing the words out. “’m here because i don’t want someone else. i want you, alright? can you just get that through your fucking head?”
you scoff, “because i know you and won’t get attached?”
he snaps, raising his voice, “no! fuck, it’s not that simple.”
"not that simple?" your hands are shaking, and you accidentally knock over one of the bottles you’d been holding before, sending it tumbling to the ground. you don't bother picking it up.
“it’s pretty fucking simple. we’re just fucking. so, tell me, what exactly is complicated about that? you call, i come over, we have sex, and that’s it. so why the fuck do you start ignoring me in public like ’m some kind of fucking disease?”
rafe opens his mouth, but you don't spare him the chance to speak, you're on a roll, months of pent-up frustration. 
“i don’t give a fuck if you’re with someone else, rafe!” you can hear the bitterness dripping from every word. you're practically spitting them out, “what pisses me off is that you had the audacity—the fucking nerve—to ask me to stay that night. do you know how fucking stupid i felt? how the fuck do you think i felt when you acted like i didn’t exist the next day?”
you can feel your hands trembling again, the adrenaline making you shaky, cursing under your breath.
“for once, i was nice enough to care about you, to stay, and that’s the shit you pulled. treated me like a ghost. like i was nothing.”
he just stands there, staring at you, his jaw tight, but he doesn't say a word. his face is hard to read, but you don't care about his feelings. you're not done yet.
“i was fine with the sex. i was fine with leaving afterwards and then you had to go and fuck it all over.”
rafe’s blue eyes flash, and you can see the realization hit him, like he's connecting the dots too fast for your liking.
his brows furrow as he breathes out, “wait. you’re mad at me because i made you—” he hesitates, like the word is foreign in his mouth, “care for me?”
you let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “oh, for fuck's sake, country club. don't flatter yourself.”
“you always do that shit,” he points out, stepping closer “you never call me by my name when we’re having a serious conversation. it's almost like you’re running away.”
you arch an eyebrow, incredulous. “are you delusional? you’re the one acting like a child.”
“’m not being delusional. you only say my name in my room when it’s just the two of us.” he leans in slightly, lowering his voice as if he's trying to keep this moment between you, his blue eyes lock onto yours making your stomach twist. “’m clearly not the only one who’s pretending here; you’re just as bad.”
you feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you walk back, trying to create space, but he closes the distance with easy confidence.
“pretending? please. ‘m not the one playing house in my bedroom while acting like i don’t know you outside of it.”
rafe lets out a low, frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair like he's close to losing it. 
“god, you’re fucking infuriating,” he mutters, voice gruff, “you think i don’t fucking feel it too? you’re the only one pissed off, the only one confused?” his voice dipps lower in frustration. “i can’t stop thinking about you, no matter how hard i try. "
“oh, boo-fucking-hoo,” you mocked back, “must be so hard, huh? being obsessed with a girl you can’t even respect in public.”
his hand reaches out to grab your wrist. you gasp, not out of fear but because the heat of his touch awakes the resting butterflies in your stomach. you hate how much your skin reacts to him, how just the feel of his grip makes your brain go foggy and shut down.
“i do respect you,” he growls, as if you just insulted him, “i just—fuck.” his eyes dart between yours, as if searching for something. then, like clockwork, he points at your work uniform—the stupid polo and that absurdly short skirt that's practically a sin in itself.
“this,” he grits out, fingers gesturing to the tight polo that does absolutely nothing but make your boobs look way too inviting, “is not okay.”
you blink, pretending to be unaffected, but his words have a way of crawling under your skin.
“oh, right,” you nod sarcastically, even though your pulse has kicked up a notch. “blame my uniform, like that’s the reason you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”
rafe groans like you're causing him actual physical pain, his hands gripping the edge of the golf cart now, knuckles turning white.
“shit, yeah, i’ll blame the uniform,” he says, eyes blazing as he corners you. “that tiny-ass skirt, walking around in front of me all day, making me lose my goddamn mind.”
just like that, his hand slide right under your mini skirt, his fingers gripping a handful of your ass with a confidence that makes your breath hitch.
the sudden contact sends a rush of heat through you, and a soft gasp escapes your glossy lips.
that’s when he takes his chance.
with another low groan, rafe seizes the moment, pressing his body against yours, leaning down as he kisses you, his tongue sliding into your mouth, the kiss deepening in an instant.
it's not sweet—you can tell that now because you know that hidden part of him, you can tell the difference when it comes out. today he's desperate like he’s been waiting to it for days and can't take it anymore.
he's a starved man on a mission. it's a feverish mess of spit and teeth, his grip on you impossibly tight.
his hand still kneads your ass, blunt fingernails digging into your skin trying to keep you from bolting away. at the same time, his other hand slides up to your neck, firm but not enough to hurt, just enough to keep you locked in place—he's daring you to pull away, knowing full well you won't.
logic doesn't stand a chance against the way his lips move against yours, he's sucking all the fight from you.
his tongue slides against yours, and your stomach jumps at the sensation, making you gasp. you try to pull back for a second, needing air, needing space, but his grip on your neck tightens, holding you in place as his lips move against yours like he'll die if you stop.
and maybe he would. maybe he's just as messed up about all of this as you are.
rafe’s teeth scrape against your bottom lip, and right then and there, you know your panties are already ruined. you can't stop the small whimper that escapes your throat, and he moans at the sound, his hips pressing harder against yours, making you feel just how much he wants you.
“fuck,” he almost whines against your lips, like he's barely keeping himself from fucking you out there in the open, not giving a shit if anyone's watching. his hand on your neck glides around to the back of your head, tangling in your hair as he tuggs slightly, tilting your head back so he can kiss you even harder, his lips moving against yours in a way that makes it impossible to think straight. “you have no idea what you do to me.”
the truth is, you do. you know exactly what you do to him because he's doing the same thing to you.
but there's no way in hell you’ll admit that. not when he already has you completely under his spell, melting into his touch, drowning in the way he kisses you like he owns you.
you attempt to hold onto that edge of disdain you always throw his way when things get too personal. his breath is hot and ragged as he hovers.
his hand, still tangled in your hair, loosens slightly but stays there. it's so fucking unfair—the way he just sneaks under your skin, the way your body betrays you every time he gets close. you hate it.
especially with the way his fingers are already sliding up your bare thigh under that ridiculously skirt, as if he owns every single inch of you, like he has a goddamn right to touch you like that.
and instead of pushing him away like you should, you find yourself leaning into him. and fuck, the look in his eyes—all black, wild, like he it's his last shred of self-control—is enough to make your pulse skyrocket.
“asshole,” it comes out weak, pathetic and almost breathless, and you hate yourself for it.
“yeah,” he whispers back, lips brushing yours, his hand still in your hair, still holding you close. “but you like it.”
god, maybe you did.
the frat boys finally return, their laughter breaking the bubble that had you on a leash.
within seconds, you're pushing rafe’s hands away, stepping back as of them claps him on the back.
“we miss anything?”
“nah, just catchin’ up,” rafe said, brushing off the whole thing as if it's no big deal.
you, on the other hand, pick up one of the empty glasses, avoiding eye contact with any of them.
one of the guys chuckles. “man, you two… y’all good?”
no. not when there's the slightest of the slightest possibility that you're starting to feel something for him. not the stupid crush you had before, or the simple curiosity of figuring out how he was in bed. 
real, scary, big girl feelings. 
no way. not after everything. not after he pulled that same crap, acting like you didn’t know you in front of his friends, then turning around and getting all possessive when it suited him.
 “better than ever.”
eyes locked on rafe, you bite out the final blow.
“yeah, better than ever. just like every other fucking rich frat boy—using daddy’s money, pretending you’re a god. but deep down, you’re all the same. losers. why don’t you keep them company, huh? you’re all family after all.”
his blue eyes drop to the green field at the mention of his dad, but he keeps quiet despite realizing you’re doing this on purpose.
he’ll let you have this one because he knows it’s deserving. fuck he’d probably let you punch him in the face if you asked him to. 
you turn on your heel and walk away, leaving him behind, knowing you hit him exactly where it hurt.
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whateverisbeautiful · 2 months ago
Text
♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL
#62: The Happy Beginning (1.06)
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gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck
Richonne got their much-deserved happy ending, and better yet, I adore that Richonne and their children's happy ending is really a happy beginning. 🥹
Because now, the everyday life with their family truly starts. So rather than feeling solely like a closed chapter, the story lands on a hopeful and positive note that feels like “...and so it begins." The life Rick and Michonne always wanted to live together can now begin again.
So while it’s also a perfect final note for us as we (seemingly) no longer get to go with them into the next chapters, I appreciate that we always get to know that there are more bright and hopeful chapters for our Grimes family, together at last 🙌🏽🎉...
I announced these RIR-TOWL posts on July 21st and now they conclude today, September 21st. And I’m super grateful to you all for reliving this TOWL experience with me in-depth for the last 62 days of summer. 🥹🙏🏽
As you can see, saying I have a novels-worth of thoughts on this show was not hyperbolic. 😅 And that's because if this is it, I wanted to go as all out as I could. And because Danai, Andy, & Scott gave their all in creating this love letter to Richonne, I especially wanted to give my all in dissecting, reflecting, and reveling in The One Who Live. If only those three could know how grateful I am to them for this show because it really was a beacon of light during this time in my life. ☀️
In this real world, I’d say love matters most. It’s what makes life worth living to find people and things you love. Love in its many forms, including in fiction, is worth celebrating and enjoying to the fullest.
So that’s really what I’ve tried to do with all these posts over all these years - celebrate one of my favorite ways I’ve ever seen love take shape. It’s been a joy to watch two beautiful characters inside and out depicting the most beautiful love. Falling in love never looked so exquisite. And finding family never felt so rewarding. 😌
And we're finishing strong as we talk about TOWL's final moment where Rick and Michonne embrace the beautiful family they created. 🥹
So - still hugging, Judith and Rick look over at Michonne and RJ. And on top of it being surreal to see Judith grown up now, you can tell for Rick it’s extra surreal to be looking at this little boy who's comprised of him and Michonne and dressed like Carl. 😭
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gif cred: @twdfranchise
That’s something that’s also really cool, is after going on this journey of losing and then regaining the image of Carl, Rick now gets to see this child who is Carl’s little brother and has his attributes. And just like Carl always wore Rick’s sheriff hat to feel close to his dad and strong like his dad, Rick gets to see that his youngest son has also done the same. 
I love that Judith looks at her mom and gives her her flowers saying, “You got him back.” It was a hefty task but Michonne pulled it off and brought home the Brave Man just like she set out to do. And I love how you can tell Judith is very proud of her mom for that.
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gif cred: @twdfranchise
Then it's so sweet seeing Michonne smile at Judith and say, “You told me to.” Best mom/daughter duo, y’all. 😭 Plus, TOWL said let us give the viewers one more reminder that Judith wanted her mom to go find their dad. Like this was never an act of abandonment, going after Rick was Michonne’s daughter’s request.
I like how Michonne saying this also feels like she’s saying that knowing her daughter believed she should go was part of the fuel to do it. She did it for her daughter. And for her son. And for her husband. And for herself. For all of them. And Michonne’s giving Judith her flowers too for the way she gave her the push she needed to go get him. 
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gif cred: @twdfranchise
I love the way Rick is holding one kid and Michonne is holding the other. You know these four are about to be pretty inseparable for a while.
And then you can visibly see the moment they all realize that the time has come for Rick Sr. to meet Rick Jr. 
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gif cred: @twdfranchise
Rick looks at RJ who is smiling up at him while holding onto his mom and then, Michonne has such a happy and proud expression as she presents RJ to his dad.
Michonne definitely has such a sweet “look at this life we made” vibe as she holds onto RJ and steps to the side for the two to have their moment.
It’s sweet how RJ seems understandably reserved at first and holds onto his mom until the last second. And then I love seeing Michonne still keep a comforting arm on her son as Rick stands before him. 
Any time I’d picture Rick and RJ’s first interaction, I always pictured one of the first things RJ would note is that this man in front of him is The Brave Man - and sure enough😊. RJ looks up at Rick and the first thing he sweetly says to his dad is, “You’re The Brave Man?” 
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
This moment is surreal for Rick, and surreal for me too because we're finally seeing a scene with Rick and RJ, the son he created with Michonne. 🙌🏽😭 And I'm so so happy that Rick was able to come into RJ's life while he's still so young. Rick will get to have an active role in RJ's core childhood and adolescent memories now.
Then, I adore Rick’s response to his son's first words to him. He’s immediately emotional and so he takes a breath and instantly looks right over at Michonne - the mother of his child. 🥹
I love the way you see him again find his center when looking at her during this emotional moment. Michonne really is like the glue between them all in this scene. And I like how she has her arms wrapped around one or more of her children at all times during this reunion. 
There’s just so much communicated in Rick’s look over at Michonne. It was another "Baby, we made a baby" moment between them as you can see it truly hitting Rick that he's meeting the son he made with his soulmate.
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
After Michonne had reassured Rick that he really is the Brave Man that his kids believe him to be along their journey home, I love that Rick now gets to hear it directly from the source. 
Rick then looks back at RJ with so much emotion etched on his face as he responds, “I am.” 😭 He doubted if he was the Brave Man before, but I think especially now hearing his little mini-me say it, Rick knows he too can believe that’s who he is.
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
And then I love the way Michonne again expresses how highly she views Rick as she says her final line of TOWL, looking to RJ while holding onto Judith as she smiles and says, “He is.” 🥹
It’s fitting for Michonne's last line to again be one that expresses her utmost belief in Rick. She wants her son to know that this father in front of him really is The Brave Man from years ago and still is The Brave Man right here and now. In fact, now more than ever. 
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
RJ smiles over at his mom and then looks back up at Rick just adorably beaming. And it really feels like he’s meeting his hero.
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
And then it is precious beyond words when Rick adjusts RJ’s hat just like he’d do with Carl. 🥹
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
Rick then leans down and places a hand on RJ's shoulder just like he’d do with Carl too. And I love that Rick is so seamlessly back in father mode.
(Side note: It hit me that Rick will now get to have bonding moments of telling RJ stories about his big brother 😭)
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I adore this hat moment between Rick and RJ for so many reasons but especially because we were introduced to Rick Grimes in that hat from the very beginning of TWD. And after going on this years-long whirlwind journey with him, it is so extremely special that Rick's final scene includes him getting to see that hat on his youngest son after it was such a staple to him and his eldest son. 🥲
Rick securing the hat on RJ's head really felt like he wanted his son to know how proud he feels to see him carrying on this Grimes heirloom.
And then Rick so tenderly says, “But maybe you can call me Dad.” 😭😭😭😭😭😭
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
I love that Rick is so ready and eager to be a dad to his son. And I just know he and RJ will have such an incredible bond. Like Judith and Carl definitely felt like true blue Michonners lol, and RJ is too, but I also like to think RJ’s going to end up really gravitating to Rick. I can fully envision them being a super close father and son. 🥰
Then RJ says with certainty, “I knew you’d come back.” And I love the framing of this scene where you can see all four family members in the shot as they look at the youngest member of the Grimes.
It’s so sweet the way Michonne and Judith are holding each other tight and the way Rick has that fatherly hand on RJ’s shoulders as he looks right at him, likely still marveling that he’s looking at his own flesh and blood right now. 
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gif cred: @ricksmarlene
And when RJ says he knew Rick would come back, they all look curious about how the adorable baby of the family knew this. So Rick says his final line of TOWL as he asks RJ, “How?”
Y'all, I love that this is what Rick says for his last line because again, it makes me think of the end of season 4 - the pivotal era when Richonne fell in love with each other - and the classic scene where Michonne says she knows Rick's okay and he asks her "How?"
And just like back then when Michonne gave a beautiful answer to Rick's question and said, "Cause I'm okay too," - Their baby boy RJ also has a beautiful answer to Rick's question.
RJ replies with the final line of TOWL, saying, “I believed.” 
The sentiment of RJ revealing that he too was believing a little longer this whole time is so special. 🥹 And it's touching that Rick and Michonne's son gets the last line of this epic love story.
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
RJ saying 'I believed' is beautiful because he’s what his parents believed in for the future all those years ago and now his mom and dad get to hear that he believed in them back.
It’s heartwarming thinking first Rick had to believe a little longer that he’d reunite with his family, and then Michonne had to believe a little longer that Rick would reunite with their family, and then they get to see that even the child they created was believing right along with them. A child born from their belief.
As two characters fueled by believing, it really is powerful to see the final note being Rick and Michonne's son doing just that - believing his dad would find his way back to their family. That's the very mission Rick went on since the pilot of this franchise, and his story ends with him succeeding. Rick found his family and isn't going to be taken away from them this time. 🥹
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
Rick seems deeply moved to hear his son say this and so he has this emotional smile at him and you can tell he so badly wants to finally hug his son. But again he lets RJ set the pace. And RJ sets the pace perfectly with the best hug. 😭
I adore the way this little boy hugs his dad for the first time. It just was so moving and so clear that he’s been wishing to be able to have his dad in his life for a long time. He needed his father and now here Rick is. 🥲 And Rick wanted this child long ago and now here RJ is.
Seeing Rick finally getting to hold his son, his 'other way to build for the future,' - it's clear Rick needed this too. 🥹
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gif cred: @nat111love
Rick really is RJ's hero already, so RJ embraces him fully. And, of course, Rick is immediately reciprocal as he embraces his son and kisses his hat. 😭
I think about how Rick gave Carl that hat after he'd been shot in the woods. Giving Carl the hat was one of the ways Rick aimed to comfort his son during an extremely trying time. And then Carl wore that hat everywhere after. And when he died, it was hard for Rick to even look at the hat. But now the hat has become a positive symbol again as Rick gets to kiss the hat on his youngest son and honor the memory of his oldest son.
It’s so evident Rick and RJ already love each other. And I applaud both actors for only having one hug to show how much they love each other and pulling it off so completely. This Rick and RJ hug is everything, truly. 🥹🙌🏽
I love the way the theme music swells and rises as Rick and RJ stay in that heartfelt embrace, never wanting to let go. And I love Michonne and Judith’s reaction to seeing these boys finally get to meet and appear so instantly bonded. Rick's family means everything to him and in this scene, he gets to see that he means everything to them too. 🥹
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gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck
Judith’s emotional response to seeing her little brother meet and hug their dad always puts a lump in my throat. 🥲 Again, it was the perfect big sister-type response. She’s probably felt like a stand-in mom for RJ while Michonne was gone and has been really protective of him and just again wants to know he’s okay. And it’s like in this reunion moment she’s aware that her baby brother really will be okay because now RJ gets to experience a family with both his parents, like she did when she was younger.
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And Michonne just seems so happy to see her husband and son be so instantly connected. It has to be the greatest feeling ever to know that this baby she brought into this world alone will now have his father who adores him in his life.
And to see the love of her life, who she knows has been through so much, including the loss of Carl, get to now embrace his son and be a father to their kids again like he most cherished and was devoted to being. 🥹 Michonne so earnestly wanted Rick to have the chance to see the beautiful family they created. And now Rick is seeing it fully. And that visibly brings Michonne's heart pure joy. 
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gif cred: @kris-lulu
So then, after Rick and RJ get their own moment with this wonderful hug, Michonne and Judith join in for a family group hug and it’s just the epitome of a joyous conclusion for Rick and Michonne and the Grimes family’s story. I adore it. 🙌🏽
Michonne and Judith wrap their arms around Rick and RJ and Michonne and Rick share their final sweet and super married-with-kids kiss. I love the way Michonne smiles as they lean in for the kiss. 😊 And the way Rick of course doesn't stop at one as he leans in for the second kiss. 😋
It's great that after over 100 TOWL kisses they still included one more. It's only right to end the show with a kiss since, again, it's canonically one of Rick and Michonne's absolute favorite things. 😊
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
This last kiss is really special because it just again feels like Rick and Michonne having a moment to acknowledge that despite all the odds and obstacles over their many years in TWD, their many years apart, and then on their TOWL journey reuniting - they overcame, fell in the deepest love, and created this beautiful family together.
And now they get to live out their lives with this blissful Grimes family, loving on each other as hard as they can while they can. 🙌🏽
This family hug is just such a sweet moment of connection. I adore the way it’s filmed where it feels like Rick is holding his family and his family is holding him back. The shot with all three of their arms on Rick’s back is art. After a long and epic journey, these three are Rick Grimes' incredible reward. 🥹
(Side note: one of the things I think Rick probably will most like about Michonne's wedding ring is that it can be seen from a very far distance which means everyone from even miles away will know Michonne is taken lol.)
And then we get one more confirmation that Richonne are and always have been magnets. 🧲 Because as the camera pans out from the greatest family hug in history, Rick and Michonne both lower their arms down at the exact same time and do that little comforting thumb rub. You know my extra self is always here for even the subtlest of magnetic synchronicity between the two.
Y'all, this really is the perfect visual to conclude their story to me. 🥹
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gif cred: @lousolversons
Like seeing Michonne with her wedding ring-clad hand holding onto RJ while he holds onto his dad and Judith holds onto her and Rick, fills me with joy and emotion when I think about Michonne's whole journey.
Losing a partner and a young son, Mike and Andre, shutting down and living isolated for a while, showing up to a prison with formula for her future daughter Judith, building such a special bond with her son Carl, falling in love with her soulmate Rick, becoming a great leader, and resiliently bringing another son into the world, RJ. She's been through a lot on her journey and I adore how love and family found her and wholly embraced her as she fully embraced them right back.
Michonne Grimes' journey ending with her wrapping her arms around her babies and husband is just beautiful. 🥹🙌🏽
I also love that Judith and RJ will now get to experience their mom having the love of her life back in her life. The kids will see their mom happier and more loved than they’ve ever seen her now that Rick is back with them.
The Michonne they knew was one who was resiliently trying to live in the thick of a unique, lonely, and crippling grief. But now she can be all of her again because her other half has returned and is fully prepared to make up for lost time and love on her and their kids the way they all need.
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And seeing Rick be so loved and held by his family after everything in his journey means the world. 🥹
Waking up from a coma to learn the world had ended, refusing to succumb to defeat as he searched for his family, finding the people closest to him from the world before, Carl, Lori, and Shane, and then having to put together that Lori and Shane had fallen for one another in his brief absence. Experiencing the relationship with Lori and Shane crumble and result in death (one of which he had to kill because his 'brother' tried to kill and replace him), going through a mental breakdown but still having to lead, protect, and raise his young son and his newborn Judith.
Then, meeting the love of his life Michonne when she shows up at the prison fence, trying to have opposition with her at first but then falling head over heels in love with her, and no longer having to carry the weight of the world alone because now he has a soulmate who can lead him, lead others, love his children, and love him back to life time and time again. Losing his son Carl twice, realizing his son and family were always with him, and then getting to look in the eyes of his youngest son and finally hold RJ.
Along his journey, Rick endured many opponents, adversity, and painful losses, including losing himself when stripped of his family for nearly a decade. He had many fascinating arcs, many ups and downs, and managed to keep his signature good kind heart intact which is true strength. And no matter who thought they were bigger, better, or badder than him, Rick always proved to be the bravest. And it's the love for his family that made him brave and made him ultimately come out on top.
So Rick Grimes' journey ending with his wife, daughter, and youngest son back in his arms and loving him like he never left is just perfect. 😭🙌🏽
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gif cred: @riickgrimes
That final image of the four of them in this family hug amid the lush greenery truly looks like the embodiment of ‘things break but they can still grow.’ And this whole new plant - this wonderful family Richonne grew - is so well-deserved. Rick and Michonne truly triumphed.🎉
I think about how in 9.03 the song that played over their Family Fun Day with Judith was "All We Ever Wanted Was Everything" and seeing the Grimes family hugging and happy at the end of TOWL is all I ever wanted for them. 🥹
(That's part of why my stance on the future is - whatever it looks like, be it Richonne returning in a quick cameo, or returning for even more than that, or not returning at all, I just want Richonne and their kids to be happy, together, and at peace).
Also, I’m telling you right now, from here on out if Rick can’t get to someone named Michonne, Judith, or RJ within 5 minutes or less, he’s going to feel he’s gone too far away because you know he’s about to be attached to the hip to his family. 😊
I really feel like Rick is going to live out his life just healthily & happily obsessed with his wife and kids and so deeply grateful to Michonne every time he looks at their family and the life they have. Like the way he stays giving Michonne her flowers, you know he’s never going to forget that it was her fighting for him and their kids that allowed them to live out this beautiful life they have now.
As the camera pans out, the four stay in this embrace and it’s just such a bright and rewarding shot. Then they show the sky as helicopters are seen flying ahead, no longer with bombs but with resources. As people noted, Richonne would be the type to not just bring themselves back home but bring back whole helicopters with loads of valuable resources too. Baddest to ever do it. 👑
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Seeing the sky with those helicopters is a reminder that the world has gotten a lot bigger since those early TWD days. And after having everything but the kitchen sink thrown their way along their path, here Richonne stand, with their son and daughter, happy, healed, and whole because they’re the ones who live and the ones whose love lives on forever. 
And while this might be the end for us getting to follow their story, I again appreciate that Richonne's story closes with not just a happy ending but a happy beginning. The best years are ahead of them now that they get to all be together. And you know this gorgeous family uniting makes Carl beam from ear to ear up above. 😇
Oh and there’s also that deleted Grimes family picnic scene which is a canon moment to me. And I adore it. 🤩 I’d been hoping they’d return to doing those lovely family picnics so I was glad they filmed one. Also, it makes me so happy to remember that RJ is a part of both this current Family Fun Day picnic and the precious one from years before. 😊
In this unaired TOWL picnic scene, I love seeing Judith laughing and relishing Mom and Dad being back with them like she always believed they’d be. She grew up on these Family Fun Day picnics and now years later she gets to enjoy them again. 🥲
I love seeing intelligent little RJ holding the Rubik's cube and wearing the signature Grimes Sherrif's hat in between his mom and sister. And I especially love seeing RJ already seem so comfortable and smiley with Rick. (I love how they said the young actor Antony really gravitated to Andy. 🥹 This picnic clip definitely gave a glimpse of that)
I love seeing Michonne wearing that pretty and colorful dress and smiling so brightly with her family reunited. The flowy outfit choice is meaningful to me because, at the top of TOWL, she was given this guarded armor and similarly had to live with figurative guarded armor since Rick’s TWD departure. But now that she’s got her loving husband and kids back she gets to just fully take down all armor and be so free, open, safe, and loved as a woman, wife, and mother. 🙌🏽
And I love seeing Rick look so relaxed, playful, and elated to be here with his wife and kids. He looks like he's once again winning that Husband & Dad of the Year title. And the way he’s smiling and laughing basking in this moment, you can see he adores his family so much. This Grimes family moment is everything Rick and Michonne wanted for their lives. And this is everything I wanted for them too. 🥹
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gif cred: @nessawakenobi
In the actual TOWL ending, as they panned out from the Grimes family hug, it doesn’t feel like they're becoming distant from us but rather we’re seeing the full picture and letting the Grimes family love fill the entire space.
And as the Grimes family embraces and fills the screen with love, the music rises and the show fades to black, officially concluding The One’s Who Live. 👏🏽😭 BEAUTIFUL. 
That also concludes the TOWL season finale revelings and The Ones Who Live revelings as a whole. We made it! 🥳 What a series. What a journey. What a gift Richonne is. 🥹
You know I gotta happy dance one more time over Richonne, TOWL, and the epic love story we've been blessed to witness from 2012 when Michonne and Rick's paths first crossed to 2024 when their love story reached its highest heights, and concluded perfectly.
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If you had told me when I started documenting my Richonne observations back in 2017 that years later there would be a whole miniseries dedicated to Richonne’s epic love story, I would have been pleasantly surprised but I’d also believe you because Richonne is truly the gift that keeps on giving. 🎁
I adore how TOWL really came and checked so many of the Richonne wishlist boxes. Rick calling Michonne his wife ✓, the proposal and wedding ring ✓, the RJ reveal ✓, the improved lighting ✓, the scenes with impactful, unvague, and rich dialogue ✓, the intimacy ✓, the Grimes family reunion ✓, the Grimes family reunion with all the original actors ✓, and much more. They gave Richonne their things, honey. 👏🏽😌
And I especially love the way The Ones Who Live ultimately landed on a message of love being what comes to the rescue when the world falls apart. Love is what it's all about at the end of the day.
Along their years-long journey, the way Richonne fell in love was beautiful. And the way they stayed in love was just as beautiful. I’m so grateful to have witnessed Rick and Michonne Grimes' powerful journey from first locking eyes at a prison fence in season 3 to looking into each other's eyes with such adoration and appreciation as they agreed to have a child together in season 9. To now reuniting with that lovely child and their dear daughter in TOWL.
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Rick and Michonne have remained such captivating characters over the years, and so much of that has to do with the incredible artists that bring them to life.
Andy and Danai are generational talents with such compatible gifts - exceptional eye acting, line delivery, vulnerability, physicality, and raw honesty infused in their craft. And then you add to that playing compelling characters in love, allowing them to tap into their rare and extraordinary chemistry. You’re bound to get something special when pairing them together like this. 👏🏽
So I'm grateful to the whole TOWL cast & crew, and most of all the captains - Andy, Danai, and Scott. We really got to see Richonne through their eyes with TOWL. 🥹 And the way those three view Richonne and bring this love story to life is resplendent. I love that with The Ones Who Live they told the story they wanted to tell - and we Richonne fans were just happily in alignment with the vision. 😌
They’re the type who put thought into even something like Rick and Michonne's hand placement in bed at the end of TWD 6.10 because they care about how Richonne is portrayed in every frame. And I will forever appreciate their attention to detail with Richonne. All these RiR posts really are my way of saying that the thought and care put into crafting these exceptional characters and their exemplary love story don't go unnoticed.
Andy and Danai have given us so much as Rick and Michonne over the years so whether this is 'goodbye for good' or 'goodbye for now,' I respect it.
The iconic roles of Rick and Michonne were truly meant for them. Danai and Andy approached these characters with love, respect, thoughtfulness, and passion, and ensured Rick and Michonne were in good hands. So I just can't thank them enough. 🙏🏽🥹
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Also, a big thank you to the gifted Richonne GIF creators. 👏🏽🤩 You are invaluable staples to this fandom and your gifs of Richonne's TOWL & TWD moments are beautiful. Linking to your amazing gifs helped me elevate these posts and string this all together. My posts wouldn't be the same without you, so I'm very grateful to you. 🙏🏽
And sincerely thank you to everyone who took the time to read these posts and to everyone who commented, messaged, PM'd, reblogged, and followed. Your thoughtful insights, reactions, and support really have always made the days brighter both over the last two months and over all these years of reveling in Richonne.
Hearing your takes on Richonne helped me see things from an even fuller perspective. Hearing that these breakdowns were looked forward to and even uplifting to read during hard times really moved me and made me feel less alone since reflecting on Richonne has also helped me focus on the bright things in this world when life feels dark. I've loved hearing what you love about TOWL and about these RiR posts. Thank you for sharing with me. 🫶🏽 Your words of encouragement have meant a lot to this Words of Affirmation girl. 😊
There were times when I was working away at these posts and wondering if I'm certifiably crazy for writing whole 'dissertations' on every second of Richonne's love story. 😅 (i think the answer is yes lol). But the encouragement I'd receive over here was a big motivator to follow through, give every scene its flowers, and share these in-depth breakdowns with you all. So please know that you and your good kind heart are super appreciated. 🙏🏽 I hope you remain blessed in all ways and on all days. 💗
And to Future Me - hi 👋🏽 I wrote these TOWL novel-length breakdowns for the fandom and for you too. For those times when you’ll want to make your day a bit better by revisiting these posts and remembering all the thoughts and elation you had over Richonne - your favorite thing - shining the brightest it’s ever shined in a 6-episode epic love story. 🌟
Rick and Michonne Grimes and their captivating story are extremely dear to my heart and always will be. And this miniseries that gave them and their love the spotlight means so much. The Ones Who Live is a true treasure, and I’m so glad we’ll have it forever. 🥹🙌🏽
After hundreds of 'dissertations' and years of pursuing a Ph.D in Richonne (😋📚🎓), I just have to say that breaking down the beginning, middle, and end of this epic love story with this fun and insightful fandom has been such a joy. Has me feeling like...
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There will be people who come around to watching TWD/TOWL now or years later who weren’t keeping up with the show when it first aired. And some of those people are bound to get bit with the Richonne bug just like I did several years ago.
So my hope is that anyone, be it new Richonners or long-time Richonners, whoever wants to reminisce and revel and relive each and every moment of Rick and Michonne’s iconic, powerful, and stunning journey can always come back to these RiR breakdowns whenever, and feel like they’re 'read-watching' the show, and dissecting and celebrating whatever is beautiful about Richonne with a good friend. Because Richonne is timeless and a little reveling is good for the soul.
I hope these plenty of posts brought and continue to bring enjoyment, insight, laughs, light, and just the best warm feelings because in the words of my beloved Michonne - It did for me. 😌
Always and forever, thank you so much for reading & Long Live Richonne. 👑🧲🥰👌🏽
121 notes · View notes
mins-fins · 27 days ago
Text
ANGEL EYES. — [L.MH] [PT. 1]
❝ sometimes, it feels as if mark lee is your guardian angel ❞
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SYNOPSIS: innocent cherub eyes, gently soft hands, a heart of gold, mark lee is the golden boy whose experienced as much love as he gives back. his grades are high, his smile is wide, and his laughter is sweet. the only reason mark lee gets embroiled in a world of trouble is because of his pairing with the 'messed up foster kid' in a school project. it would be stupid to ever let himself get involved, but mark does anyway.
PAIRING: mark lee x male!reader
GENRE: mid–2000s au, high school au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humor(?), slow burn, one sided pining to mutual pining, sadness as a romantic segway, relationship study, reader is a foster kid, mark pov, happy ending.. (i suppose)
WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, violence, drug abuse, child abuse & neglect, family issues, mentions of death, smoking, homophobia, reader simply has the worst time and mark sobs about his circumstances, an awful amount of love that isn't realized to be love
WORD COUNT: 20.8k
NOTES: hey, hi, hello, its me isa mins-fins back with another BANGER 😍‼️ make sure to hit that subscribe button for more epic fanfiction 😋💥 okay but seriously, i've been writing this for almost TWO MONTHS (began in aug, first part wrapped up in nov) and its been a journey holy shit 😭😭 i dont remember why i randomly started this draft but i did and now its become this monstrosity, almost 21k words and were only halfway there, sorry, there's unfortunately more suffering awaiting, but dont worry, happy ending!! of course, user junjiie, i love you 💗, thank you for again listening to my unhinged rants about this thing and consuming all of the spoilers, you deserve love, and an endless supply of mark photocards 😊😊 as for everybody else who reads my stuff, thank you for sticking around despite the fact that i disappeared for about three weeks, please enjoy this mess 🤗
PREVIEW | NEXT
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BEFORE IT WAS IN THE CRISP AUTUMN ATMOSPHERE, mark lee had met you at the local police station. it was only a few months prior, august of 2004 brought the prospect of donghyuck doing everything to try and get arrested, prospects that mark could only respond with under the breath swears. he loves donghyuck, he really does, but driving shouldn't have been his first choice. in all of the friendships mark has had with other people in his life, donghyuck has always brought a wave of chaos along with him, the exact opposite of who mark's mom would advise him to stay away from, but she'd always had a soft spot for him, mark can't exactly blame her.
fresh off turning seventeen and utterly clueless as to what the future would bring, mark only found himself at the police station for one reason. donghyuck had driven without a license. yep, sixteen years old and he assumed doing an illegal u-turn was the way to end his summer.
mark has always been a stand up kid. the kind who handed out his mom's cookies to the neighbors. the kind who called for stray cats in alleyways. the kind who was simply an innocent bystander to all the bullshit his friends would pull.
so when donghyuck called him from a jail phone, voice heightened in indignation as he begged for mark to come make a case for him, the older really had no choice but to do so. mark had never been to a police station before, afraid of catching sight of real criminals in the flesh by just walking past the building. he had watched too many scary stories, had terrible ideas of human beings planted in his head.
and even as a seventeen year old who had experienced life enough that such things shouldn't have terrified him anymore, there was still a small pit in his stomach as he rounded the corner in direction of the building.
"and how exactly am i supposed to bail you out?" an eyebrow raise accompanied mark's inquiry, and donghyuck scoffed as he shook his cuffed hands.
"you don't have to bail me out, my dad knows the sheriff, i'm just getting off with a warning" he whispered, sweat on his brow as he shared that familiar 'no shit' look with mark (an ironic expression really, he's the only one between the two of them that's been in cuffs).
mark snickered. "you talk so much when you're the one handcuffed".
"watch your mouth, you need me".
just as donghyuck was about to let out a swear in addition to his snappy response, said sheriff walked into the room, tight lipped smile painting his face. "don't try that again donghyuck, or next time you'll end up in a cell".
in a instant, donghyuck's blood ran cold, mark almost laughed at the sight, but he remained still, watching. the older man glanced up, catching mark's anxiety ridden eyes. "and you are?"
"this is mark, my best friend" donghyuck was quick to quip, a hand placed onto his shoulder.
mark's stomach dropped to his feet, it isn't as if he did anything wrong, it was simply on par for him to be severely anxious around law enforcement in general, he was just afraid he'd somehow get arrested for nothing at all.
"ohhh i remember you, i used to assume you two were brothers".
mark let out a breathy (and clearly faked) chuckle, trying to bury his anxiety. he could never explain it, even if you gave him all the words to, it's not like he's a bad kid, he just finds himself tensing often. "no, just friends.."
"it's good to have someone so close as support" he narrowed his eyes at donghyuck, who stifled his scoff at the clear sarcasm lacing his tone. he then scrunched his nose, watching as donghyuck placed a performative smile on his lips. "now you, sir, we need to have a talk".
donghyuck frowned, whining out complaints as he's dragged away by the sheriff. "can you wait, mark?"
mark blinked, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. he nodded, out of words. the two bantered back and forth like friends, something mark could only stare idly at. he made his way over to the seats beside the door, where, nestled in the corner of one of them, was you.
you were scribbling something into your notebook, unaware of the eyes on you. mark sat two chairs away from you, tapping his feet onto the floor as he heard the faint sounds of scoldings. safe driving, don't get into a car without a license, your future won't be any better if you continue this shit.
swearing at a child, mark found that rich. he glances beside him again, now watching you intently. you were engrossed in the manner your pen scratched against your paper, mark had figured out through endless staring that you hadn't been writing, but drawing.
you avoided his eyes for a while, ignorant to the eyes gazing you up and down. you then glanced in mark's direction, almost startling him out of his seat with the sudden stare. you blinked, puzzled out of your mind. "is there something on my face?"
mark tensed in his seat, feeling his stomach swirl, was he staring so much that you felt offended? he felt guilty immediately, his lips parting immediately and releasing a silent breath. "no.. no i'm sorry, i didn't mean to".
you shrugged your shoulders, one click to your pen. mark recognized you, but he simply couldn't conjure up an explanation as to why you were sitting in a police station at this time, drawing whatever into your notebook. "so why are you staring then?"
"i'm trying to figure out why you're here" mark muttered, fingers fiddling with his necklace as he tried to get his tone straight in fear of again offending you. "i'm sure you aren't committing crimes".
"i can say the same for you, mr golden boy".
mark's lips turned up slightly, his hands twitching from where they rested on his lips. "i got kicked out.. always come here to let dad and mom cool off for a few hours".
the words earned an eyebrow raise from mark, that was strange to hear, especially from another person in regards to their own parents. mark had never really experienced such a thing, the way you described it made his nose scrunch. "what?"
before you could respond to that one, a police officer entered the room, one you seemed to recognize by the way your eyes lit up. "come on l/n, time to go".
a frown settled onto your lips. "do i really have to go now? you know how my parents are.."
"i can't keep you here, it would technically be illegal".
"it's not like they'll care anyway.." you mumbled, slamming your notebook shut with yet another click to your pen. "just an hour longer, please?"
there was a sense of hope in your eyes, maybe he would actually take your words into account. mark simply stared, staggered by what he was witnessing. the officer watched the change of your expressions, your thumb playing at the button on your pen, continuously clicking over and over. as the clicks amplified, so did the sound of your labored breathing.
"you know i can't do that kid".
your frown deepened, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. worry, that's what mark remembered. your eyes widened, but not in the usual shock, simply in disappointment. you cursed under your breath, muttering something about your parents getting pissed at your reappearance. you stopped clicking your pen, letting the chagrin settle onto you. "yeah.."
you sucked your teeth, imitating the look of a sulky child. mark was consumed by his silence, completely confused by the situation. he didn't give a comment, simply watched the whole entire thing happen. "i'll give you a few minutes, don't worry".
you didn't respond to that one, your eyes following the police officer who strolled out the door towards his car. you bit into your lip again, hands grasping onto your notebook and thumb still pressing onto your pen. "what bullshit".
mark continued staring, his hands clutching at his thighs. you then glanced at him once more, causing for him to flinch back. you stayed silent, watching him as much as he did you a few minutes prior.
"are you alright?" he muttered, leaving his voice at a low volume. he didn't want to raise it, he wanted to keep it at a volume that kept you comfortable.
you snickered, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "fine, going home is just my worst nightmare".
mark's fingers found themselves sliding across his legs, teeth sliding against each other in back and forth motions. he blinked his big brown eyes, staring with an assured gaze he hoped would somehow make it's way to you. "i'm sorry".
he whispered those two words as if he was in physical pain, eyes watering for an inexplainable moment. he couldn't help it, and he had no idea why he couldn't help it. it was embarrassing how much he felt at the moment.
you stared back, lips pursuing. your expressions did at least seventy transformations, as if you were in disbelief at someone having empathy for you. you seemed distraught, why is he tearing up? that's so strange.
you chuckled, hoping it would quell his worries. "it's okay, not like it's your fault".
"still, you shouldn't have to feel that way about going home.. your parents shouldn't be kicking you out".
you grimaced, put off by the words. it isn't as if they were terrible, you just seemed.. astonished. why did he care? it was simply weird to you.
"well thank you for your concern but i'll be fine".
mark blinked away the tears threatening to escape his eyes, god what was wrong with him? why did he even tear up at that? he totally weirded you out.
"yeah um.. i'm sorry" mark bit into his inner cheek, letting out a heavy sigh. "just have a good day" a theatric smile placed itself on his lips, he was definitely trying to convince himself that it wasn't that bad of a situation.
you stared longer, seemingly itching to say something. there were words resting on the tip of your tongue, mark could practically sense it. "yeah, you too".
and when you stood up to walk out of the door, donghyuck coincidentally escaped the clutches of the sheriff, stumbling out of his office with his arms crossed over his chest. the door closed behind you, and mark watched the entire time.
"what took you so long?" mark uttered, eyes casting donghyuck's way.
the younger huffed in his usual donghyuck manner, hands on his hips. "he was giving me a big talk about safe driving" he placed heavy air quotes around the last two words, lips curled into a frown.
mark licked his teeth, his thoughts retracing back to you. "do you know him..?"
donghyuck blinked, his mouth opening to ask about who until he saw the way mark motioned his head. "y/n? oh yeah, he's around here all the time, the officers basically take him in whenever.."
"why?"
his voice scratched like sandpaper, donghyuck wincing at the tone. he then shrugged his shoulders, his attitude puzzled. "something about his parents not really caring, it's pretty shitty".
mark's lips parted in a freezing motion, his stomach pain only worsening. "that's scary.. feeling safer at the police station than your own home".
"i don't know much about his situation, just know his parents have a terrible temper".
mark swallowed the lump in his throat, his head beginning to pound at the information given. he tried to distract himself by thinking about school coming up soon, but he was snapped back into reality by donghyuck.
"why are you even asking me about y/n?"
mark glanced up at his childhood friend, a small whisper in his mind telling him to lie. "just curious that's all".
the lie laid bitter on his tongue, but he didn't allow for donghyuck to dwell on it, rising from the chair he practically glued himself to. "promise me you'll never illegally drive again, the officers here look like they wanna kill me".
donghyuck rolled his eyes, tease evident in his attitude. "okay markie, promise".
mark pushed his shoulder in retaliation.
that? that was two months ago.
before the crisp autumn weather drifted through the atmosphere, before the leaves began falling to decorate the ground in orange and brown hues, mark lee had met you at the local police station. your legs crossed, pen clicking, and nose buried into your notebook.
september came and went rather quickly, the scorching heat of the summer air transforming into the russet autumn scenery which drifts into october. the temperature steadily dropping, sweaters becoming more and more common in his closet, mark can't exactly focus in class during the first few months of school.
when mark hears his name fall from his teacher's lips in pair with yours, he snaps out of an episode of disassociation, blinking up. "what?"
his teacher deadpanned, readjusting her glasses. she doesn't even seem surprised by his lack of focus anymore, his exhaustion is constantly evident. "project partners mark, you'll be paired with y/n".
mark only parts his lips in response, the words rendering him speechless. he glances around the classroom as he listens to the older woman's voice blurs into the background, catching sight of you in the far back, again scribbling into your notebook, your manner reminiscent of how you acted the first time you two met.
he stares for a while before again looking forward, his mouth going dry as he tries again to focus, but of course, he can't. his mind stays focused on you throughout the whole class, even after the endless words he lets blur away.
you spin your pen between your fingers, it's the same pen you had that day, maybe you have some sort of attachment to it or something, maybe it's your favorite pen, maybe someone special gifted that pen to you.
maybe mark's letting it all get to his head, why is he even making assumptions when he hasn't walked up to you yet?
while everyone else rushes to leave the class, mark rises from his seat and again glances over at you, slinging his back over his shoulder.
you're riveted by what you're doing in your notebook, so absorbed that you barely hear the shuffling footsteps making their way around the many desks towards yours. your lips turn down as you smudge the ink on the page, a small suck of the teeth adding to your frustration.
"um.. hi" mark whispers, watching as you glance up and pause, one click to your pen. you don't respond immediately, studying mark for a while, and mark tenses up under your gaze, sucking a breath between his teeth.
"hi".
"we uh— were partners for the project".
your smile is neutral. "i know".
mark began biting the skin off his lips, hands gripping at his backpack. "i don't know where you want to start, uh.. maybe we could go to the library?"
he's just saying what he's hoping will work. he doesn't exactly know you yet, he assumes your one off interaction at the police station left a sour taste in your mouth.
but unbeknownst to mark's anxious inner voice, you smile, not exactly a neutral one this time, a much better smile ('better' in terms of expression, your lips stretch into an aspect of satisfaction).
"that'd be nice".
mark nods, almost too enthusiastically he thinks. how embarrassing. you let out a silent yawn, oblivious to the battle mark is having in his head. "tomorrow maybe we can start?"
your smile again becomes neutral, but at least mark doesn't think you want to kill him. "yeah, tomorrow is fine".
tomorrow. tomorrow is fine.
"okay, have a good day y/n".
mark rushes out of the classroom much too fast, he feels a little terrified of you. maybe you don't exactly want to kill him, maybe you just look at everyone else in that way, maybe it won't be that bad to be paired with you.
still, mark isn't sure why his mind tells him he should stay away from you.
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THE NEXT DAY GOES AS USUAL, DAD AND MOM bicker at the breakfast table, leave kisses on mark's forehead before letting him go off. the heightened smell of pine was all that met mark's nose, his senses freaking out as he stepped into the cool october air. it's still eight in the morning, it shouldn't be this cold. just a month ago the sun was attempting to burn off his skin with it's murderous rays, and now it's obscured behind gray clouds. hopefully it doesn't rain, he forgot to bring an umbrella, and mom would kill him if he turned up at home with his clothes drenched. he assumes that he's gotten pretty good at predicting the weather, and judging by the pattern the clouds form in the sky, it won't rain today.
history is his last class of the day, and mark immediately found out that history is the only class you two share. donghyuck runs his mouth in his ear all day, something about junior year really being the one where you lose your identity, mutterings about drinking and partying falling from his lips.
his chin leans against his hand as he complains about jaemin not giving him homework answers, and mark releases a small sigh, drawing a small snort from his best friend. "you getting bored of me now?" he's quick to ask, aggressively shoving his shoulder against mark's.
mark grunts, nose scrunching as he sees the elation donghyuck shows. "you've been talking forever, do you not get tired?"
"someone has to entertain you".
"i'm not entertained, i'm annoyed".
donghyuck huffs, an eye roll being his response to mark's insult. he never lets it get to his head, donghyuck has always been the least sensitive between the two of them. his lips curl up into yet another smile of glee, overjoyed by mark's irritation.
"it's the seniority getting to you, grandpa".
mark shares an incredulous with him, scoffing as he grabs his bag from where he let it sit beside him. giggles spill from donghyuck's lips, his face red at the sight of mark's furrowed eyebrows. "not even a year older than you.."
"you're still old!"
donghyuck sings out the words in the way of a melodic tune, whistling in the air. mark again mutters something about not being old, and donghyuck sticks out his tongue. "see you later oldie".
mark's face scrunches, but he bid donghyuck a goodbye anyway. he's been a constant in his life, getting called old by an annoying sixteen year old isn't exactly the kind of thing that puts stress on his life, he'll be fine, there's definitely worse the world could throw at him, and lee donghyuck just barely scratches the surface.
after lunch, he has history for a double period. he usually disassociates through the first forty five minutes, his teacher is a nice woman, yes, but she takes so long to get to the point. he's read through the topics time and time again, he's simply relearning them to get the last few credits he needs to graduate.
he'll be done by the time the second semester rolls around, so that isn't much of a worry.
when he slides into his seat, he wants to crane his head back to look for you, but just as his head connects the dots, attendance begins, and he hears you mutter a small 'here' when the teacher calls your name.
"mark lee?"
he glances up, straightening his posture. "here" he replies, licking his lips.
the dragging of your pen against the paper of your notebook stops, mark knows it's yours because he listened to the same sound yesterday up close when he asked you about the library.
the first forty five minutes of class fly by, mark manages to keep himself from falling asleep while his teacher goes on about something he'd already learned about years prior.
then, she stops, the shuffling of desks are heard in the room, and his teacher sighs as she places her hands against her desk. "as i said yesterday, your project is about important historical events, you can use these next few minutes to brainstorm with your partners".
she then sighs with her hands clasped together. "no funny business" she scolds, her tone reminiscent of a mother angry at her children.
a click of the tongue sounds as mutters begin getting louder, mark's chest tightens as he glances around the room, watching everyone else get up to discussing with their partners.
of course, he has to go to you.
he stands from his place and drags a chair over to you, eyes squeezing shut at the sound it emanates. "sorry".
you instantly squint, a scrunch of your nose adding to your expression. "did you just apologize for.. nothing?"
mark swallows, his lips pursuing. he doesn't have a response for that, apologies falling from his lips are programmed into his speech. the way you asked makes him feel as if something is wrong with his manner of speaking, he isn't sure why he thinks about it in that way though.
"i don't know i.." his words drift off into nothing, there isn't a response to that one, because mark has no idea why he says what he does. "i'm sorry".
you respond with a chuckle, and mark's eyes miraculously widen. he just did it again, and it felt completely normal. one click to your pen. your lips stretch into yet another neutral smile, the prospect amusing you. "alright, what should our topic be?"
mark pauses, scratching his nails against the wooden table. his eyes drifts over to your notebook, and you close it upon catching his gaze. his lips press into a thin line, a breath in his teeth. "maybe the industrial revolution..?"
it's simply the first thing he could say at the moment, he wasn't exactly thinking. you blink, using a hum as your reply this time. you map out the several features on mark's face, his big brown eyes shine with anticipation, and it gets difficult to hide your smile.
"unless you wanna do something else" mark is quick to add, his words a small whisper. "i want to hear your suggestions".
he observes the act of your expressions changing, your eyebrows pinching together in a questioning manner. you don't seem to mind, he gathers. "it's alright, i would've said the bubonic plague or something but that's been dried up countless times i assume".
mark breaks into a small smile, relaxing against the chair. "okay, the industrial revolution it is" he whispers, hands clasped together. "do you still want to go to the library today or..?"
"i can't make it today".
your voice lowers exponentially, eyes casting to the side. mark gazes, as if attempting to read your inner most thoughts. you don't exactly make them clear, that's puzzling, mark almost wants to ask what the deal is, but he assumes you'd probably cuss him out if he did.
he presents his warmest smile to you. "it's okay, i can find sources for today, we can begin searching together tomorrow".
you don't nod, simply stare back. mark blinks, avoiding your eyes as he glances around the room. "i don't really want to put that all on you, i can still gather sources i just can't stay after school.."
mark is the one who nods, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. "that's fine, you think you can stay tomorrow though?"
god mark feels like such an asshole asking that, he tries to keep his eyes everywhere but directly in front of him, because he's afraid of getting decked in the face.
but instead, you chuckle. "yeah tomorrow is fine, sorry for being so.. inconsistent".
mark then shakes his head, hoping the movements would reassure you in some way. "it's alright, thank you for telling me".
your lips stay pressed together, another small hum vibrating from you. you again run out of responses, so mark speaks up. "let's work well together, yeah?"
is that really the correct choice of words? think about it mark.
mark already thinks too much, if he thinks more, he might begin feeling tears stream down his cheeks. he doesn't want to seem.. jumpy, even if there are voices screaming at him with their pitches so high blood might start pouring out of his ears.
and finally, you nod, which gets a small smile out of mark.
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MARK READS ON AND ON ABOUT THE INDUSTRIAL revolution until the words burn into his brain, until the sun goes down and his mom is casting him strange looks every time she walks past his open door. around the fifth time she did a lap, she paused as she watched mark flip through the many books scattered around his bed. "what is going on here?" she inquires, and mark glances up as he's midway through reading about british imperialism, a small smile on his lips. "this is for my project" he whispers, clear fatigue in his voice. she narrows her eyes, puzzled by the manner he's acting in.
"it's almost ten o'clock, mark".
ten isn't that late, he would usually muse, but there's a pointed look she sends him that leaves the words resting on the tip of his tongue. "okay, i'll go to sleep now.." he mutters, licking his lips.
she smiles softly, tapping her finger against his door. "sleep for real, mark, don't read all night".
"i don't read all night" he argues to the air. he knows that isn't true, he can't argue about it to his mom. he crosses his arms over his chest, imitating the stubborn front donghyuck always puts up.
she utters something akin to a 'sure' and gives one last look to mark before walking down the hallway. mark only casts one last glance in the direction of his door, then he picks up the books he littered across his bed to shove into his backpack.
he isn't exactly sure why he couldn't stop thinking about your neutral smile. mark has only interacted with you three times in two months, yet there's something there that keeps him grounded, his mind warns him of something, but you can't be terrible, you seem practically harmless.
mark isn't new to knowing people with somewhat shitty parents, but he feels as if there's something more there. mark really can't judge from a one off interaction he wasn't even involved in besides watching, how can he concoct something like this about you in his head when you barely talk to him as it is? he can't just make shit up before actually sitting down to get to know you.
he stares out his open window, the night breeze comes in with a rush reminiscent of ocean waves. he switches off his lights and stares up at the ceiling, hair splayed behind him as he waits for the exhaustion to take over.
he's bad news mark.
but what does mark know? this could just be his anxiety's biggest manifestations, he's making shit up. he's guessing based on the few interactions you two have had, and if he thinks further, it seems that you don't exactly enjoy his presence.
mark doesn't get much sleep that night.
that isn't as crazy as it should be, mom asks about it at breakfast the next morning, catching the dark circles under his eyes. he manages to utter an excuse about sounds outside or something, it was barely believed, she squinted at him with pure incredulity in her eyes, but he quickly scarfed down the remaining waffles on his plate and rushed to school, weighed down by his backpack containing thick books.
donghyuck made an awful lot of remarks about him accidentally killing someone with his backpack. he had the urge to purposefully swing it around to hit the younger with his backpack, but he kept such thoughts to himself, he could get revenge on donghyuck another time. maybe he'll hit him in the head with a metal pan again, who knows?
the lack of sleep exhibits itself in mark's barely functioning body as a whole. seven separate times during the day he almost dozed off during class, his teachers gave him the benefit of the doubt, him practically snoring on his desk was nothing new, he gets a pass because he's the kid with good grades.
by the time last period rolls around, mark forgets everything else that happened today. two hours of sleep usually don't do him this bad, but considering he'd been constantly getting over seven hours of sleep this week, two basically rendered him dead.
his hand slammed onto his desk a few too many times, he jolted up a few too many times. his eyes narrowed as he yawned again, doing his regular glance around the classroom. he counts each of the heads he catches, noticing some missing, but only a certain missing one is alerting.
you aren't here.
mark's lips turn downward, a weathering frown now overtaking his former exhaustion. mrs. lim took attendance thirty minutes ago, how did he miss you not responding to the call of your name? he narrows his eyes at your empty desk, feeling a pit form in his stomach.
where is he? his lips pursue as he looks forward, now unable to care about his fatigue when he was now consumed with confusion on where the hell you were.
did you just decide to go m.i.a for absolutely no reason? god what an asshole move. do you even know how difficult it is to do a project on your own?
mark doesn't let the anger fester for long, though, because it then becomes worry. maybe something happened, you told him you'd be able to stay today, did you just lie to him?
okay, so maybe his anger does fester a little bit, but he can't stay angry at really anyone for long (not even donghyuck, annoying guy 101). his fingers press uncomfortably onto the straps of his backpack as he makes his way over to the library, maybe you won't show up, but he still has to finish this project anyway.
he drops the books down with a resounding thud, immediately getting to jotting down notes after apologizing to the librarian. his head simply leaned downward, threatening to fall and crash against the table at any moment. he isn't sure how he remains awake, but he manages to keep himself up enough that he's able to write at least two pages of notes.
he's about to begin drooling, an embarrassing feat really, but he can't contain his weariness.
and just as he's about to pass out—
"are you good?"
mark jolts up straight away, a gasp of surprise leaving his lips as he takes in the words. when he whips his head back, he immediately frowns, it's you. he sucks a breath between his teeth, shoulders relaxing. "yeah yeah i'm just tired i.."
mark would've spit out some snarky interjection when his eyes drifted downward. then, in their usual fashion, they widened, and a grimace made it's way to his face.
a barrage red and purple decorate your knuckles, the skin between your fingers threatening to open. he barely holds back his wince, it looks painful, so painful. why the fuck are your knuckles split?
"are you alright?"
you deliver a snort. "is that the question you're always going to ask me?"
"oh my god! you're— your hands jesus what the hell even happened!?"
mark grabs your hands to get a closer look, your rough skin clashing against his in a burning manner. you promptly draw your hands away, as if in a protective stance, as if.. weirded out by the whole ordeal. "nothing, it's fine".
"it's fine?" mark parrots, sharing an incredulous look with you he normally wouldn't share with anyone. "your knuckles are one snap away from bleeding!"
your face twitches, and you bring a finger to your lips. "don't yell in a library, it isn't that serious".
"it isn't—" mark cuts his own speech off, closing his eyes to try and keep himself calm. "what happened?"
you mutter something unintelligible at first, fingers picking at the sides of your hands. "i just made someone mad.."
"you just made someone mad?"
you shrug your shoulders, startlingly mundane about the whole thing. mark stares, an intake of fear entering him. your face is flat, the only expression mark could make out was slight irritation, but not at him.. at least he hopes.
"you weren't in class today" he whispers, now quickly changing the subject as you drag the chair beside him back, settling onto it.
"i skipped" you speed through your response, grinding any of the pain you feel in your knuckles between your teeth. "looked like shit, mrs. lim would've had a heart attack if i walked into her room".
"you didn't think to go to the nurse or something?"
you narrow your eyes, tongue probing at the side of your cheek. "you ask so many questions, that has to be your thing".
mark sucks his teeth. "..sorry for worrying?"
you blink, a neutral smile spreading across your lips. "you're a weird guy".
there it is. there the word is. weird. you think mark is weird. is mark weird? if mark is weird, then what does that make you? is it weird that he has empathy for others? is it weird that he holds empathy for you?
"are you insulting me?"
your head shakes back and forth, fingers prodding at the corners of your book. "not quite, i've just never met someone like you".
"well usually someone having split knuckles is cause for concern".
your face again drops, and the awkward chuckle mark hoped would quell such worries instead died down in his throat. he watches the way you gaze upward then downward, mapping each of mark's features with your tentative eyes. "it's not that big of a deal" you mumble, twiddling your thumbs as you quickly avert your gaze.
you avoid his eyes in the same way a child does when they fear upsetting their parents, your lips curl down into the exact appearance of disappointment.
mark's mouth is completely dry, he doesn't really know how to deal with.. this. he levels at you with a blank stare, attempting to see through you, maybe get into your thoughts and finally figure out why you don't find your knuckles being split being the huge problem it is.
"okay.. um, can you show me the sources you found then?"
mark is trying his best to not make it awkward, how do you not even release a wince at the pain you must be experiencing? you simply engross yourself in that pen and paper once again.
it's a bit difficult to make conversation when all he currently sees are the bruises decorating your hands. he grimaces as if you're some exhibit he isn't fond of, and from the flickers of your eyes he catches in his peripheral vision, you clearly take notice.
"you gonna stop looking at me like that?"
"sorry!" mark is quick to sputter, his blinks as rapid as his response. "i'm sorry it just.. doesn't that hurt?"
a breath falls from your lips, the beginnings of a laugh making it's way up into the air. "it's nothing i haven't felt before".
mark wants to ask again, but he keeps in such urges. again, he's still afraid you'll punch him in the face if he opens his mouth again. mark assumes he just doesn't get it, maybe how you feel is vastly different to how he feels. "can i at least walk you to the nurses office?"
another question, mark feels his stomach curl into something terrible, but instead of the blow up reaction he expects, you simply pause, blinking.
you press your teeth against each other, thinking it over with your eyes trailing the shelves of the library. one click to your pen, a small sigh falling from your lips. "fine.. i guess".
you guess, well that's a start. mark can make well with that.
you gather books as best as you can quickly, shoulders tensing. mark urges to grab your hand, maybe soothe it over with his thumb, but he suppresses such urges in fear of weirding you out (because you already deemed him a 'weirdo').
"you know.. if you ever need to tell someone something, i'm here".
it's a flimsy suggestion, a small uttering mark could only muster with the worry in his heart. you shot him a glance, the abrupt movement of your head almost startling mark backward. you stare, the expression on your face indecipherable, mark wishes he could reach into your mind, pull out your innermost thoughts and figure out exactly why you think the way you do.
your eyes stay narrowed for a moment, simply staring at mark, frozen in front of the nurse's office. you click your tongue, scratching at the start of your sweater. "sure".
sure, sure. it's not a no, that's good. it's not a yes, which isn't exactly assuring. it's a sure. sure. there's a start, it's a beginning.
you don't exactly sound sure, your eyes cast around your surroundings, and your lips sink into your bottom teeth. the anxiety permeating from you is reminiscent of mark's own.
well maybe you two aren't that different.
i'm here if you want to talk, mark repeats in his own head, and he begins biting the skin off his lips.
sure is your response.
it's a good enough response for a start.
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THE TITLE OF 'FRIENDS' ISN'T YET ESTABLISHED between you two. you're still an enigma, a mystery, mark is still just the tiniest bit afraid you'll attempt to punch him in the face if he says something you don't agree with. you're an easy person to work with, in comparison to some of mark's other project partners. you two equally split up the workload, you don't mind taking up most of the work, you tell mark it's okay, even with bandages arranged around your bruised knuckles, you could jot down notes about the fucking industrial revolution all day. mark makes out that you don't necessarily enjoy talking, you communicate with your feeble expressions.
again, you two aren't established friends, and considering you only have one ninety minute class together in one whole school day, it would be a turbulent effort to even attempt a friendship.
you can be summed up as simply 'project buddies', there isn't anything more to it, but that's because mark has some fear instilled in him directed towards you. you don't glare, but it still appears that you do.
you continuously scribble in your notebook, biting your fingernails, the same anxious impulses mark finds himself unconsciously doing. day in and day out mark clocks a few more similarities between you two, that's interesting.
you become less of an apparition and more of an actual person, october begins coming to a close, temperatures falling at the rapid rate of the leaves. in the next coming weeks, he'll probably begin wearing jackets.
"i think maybe we should start going to each other's places after school?"
you pause in your dragging when mark brings that up, one click to your pen. you lick your teeth, whole body tensing. "we can't go to my place" you clear your throat. "my parents.."
you stop midway through your own sentence, it's as if you were restrained, unable to utter the rest of it in.. fear? you avoid mark's gaze, cheeks pink with embarrassment.
mark blinks, he sort of expected that answer. another click to your pen, you continue dragging it against your notebook page. mark almost leans over to check what you're doing, but he keeps himself still. you don't have to say more, he doesn't need for you to say more. "oh, it's okay! we can just go to my place".
you remain still. "your parents won't mind?"
mark quickly shakes his head. "they never mind, honestly they keep complaining about how i don't bring people over".
for the first time since mark's met you, a small laugh leaves your lips. "okay.. that's fine".
fine. not good, just fine. maybe it takes a while for you to warm up, mark doesn't mind, he can wait.
you tug at a strand of your hair using your finger, licking your teeth. "is friday good for you?" mark inquires, watching as you again begin vigorously clicking your pen.
you again pause before answering, an indecipherable feeling entering you. mark tries to study you, but he gets nothing, he really is clueless to how you are. "friday is fine" you then say, much too rapidly for it to be authentic. you seem shaky, erratic, it all seems so scary.
mark nods, a final click to your pen. "okay.. after school maybe? we could walk together".
yet another flimsy suggestion, mark only utters such a thing because he doesn't exactly want to pick specific times. it's easier this way, directly after school, you have your last class together, just heading home after it all finished would be fine. it's simple.
you stare at him as if he just grew two heads, your eyes dilated in a freakish fashion. mark finds it staggering, you always stare at him as if he's said something absurd when he offers even the tiniest bit of kindness to you. your eyebrows furrow, simply a look of pure confusion painted on your face.
but even with the torture you seem to be facing in your own mind, you present a neutral smile. "yeah, that's okay".
okay. not good, just okay.
mark thinks he can deal with okay.
the coming friday enters like a freight train, it's a tumultuous crash that is so rapid the world shakes. mark scratches behind his ear, eyes droopy as he simply awaits for the ending of class.
he zones out on the sound of a pen dragging against a notebook page, he doesn't need to crane his head back to know that you're scribbling something into your notebook. he wonders if you're interested in drawing, maybe you enjoy the aspect of art, that seems interesting.
mark wants to ask, but there's always a voice in his head that chastises him for being so curious, the same way his mother used to when he'd ask outlandish questions as a child.
he has to use all of the fight in him to not look back at you, he'd probably get another weird utter from you if he decided to simply turn back and stare, mark isn't stupid, he knows how people are, he knows it's weird to just sit and stare at someone.
one click to your pen.
class dismisses as soon as it begins, and mark almost falls to the floor when he stands up, his exhaustion practically weighing him down. he acts in a strange manner, one that draws a small snicker from you as you observe his behavior.
"you alright there?" mark only sighs, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
"i'm fine just.. tired" mark explains, chuckling emptily. you simply stare again, tightening your hold against your backpack. you click your tongue, shoulders still tense as ever. "do you want to come over now or..?"
you nod. "now is fine".
mark makes sure to not show his elation too clearly, just presenting his regular smile as it is to you. he almost grabs your hand, he wants to feel the intertwining of your fingers, but again, you'd probably punch him in the face.
the walk isn't long, mark walks to school every single day, having not skipped a beat ever since freshman year began. you two stroll towards mark's place in silence, the air growing awkward as the autumn air breezes through your hair.
mark clears his throat, taking in a breath. "is your hand getting better?"
it's a trifling inquiry mark only makes out because of the need for conversation, it'd be so much worse if you two were just quiet. mark usually doesn't have a problem with talking to people, but with you, it's just the slightest bit difficult.
you again offer a curt shrug as a response. "it's okay".
okay. wow, you never really give a sure answer. mark wonders if you even know the answer yourself.
"okay isn't really a reassuring answer".
"doesn't matter".
it does to me.
the words hang heavy on mark's lips, but they then die down in his throat, would it be strange to say that to someone you barely even know? someone who probably doesn't consider you a friend in their own indecipherable mind? mark curses himself for harboring such strong feelings towards you, someone whose basically a stranger.
"again, nothing i haven't felt before" you mutter, words hushed in their usual manner. you leave no more room for explanations, going silent as you continue your walk beside him.
mark, though curious, also remains silent, slowly speeding up as he makes out the sight of his house.
you keep your head down when mark opens the door, peaking his head from behind it. "mom! i'm home!"
mark misses the small flicker of jealousy in your eyes, too busy getting attacked by his mother's frenzied affection. you could only stare at the spectacle, keeping your silence.
"oh, and whose this?"
mark blinks, his big eyes widening extraordinarily. "this is y/n, my classmate, were doing a project together".
you again keep silent for a while, clearing your throat as she offers you a smile. "it's nice to meet you mrs. lee".
"oh you're adorable, look at those cheeks!"
you had half a mind to lean back when she pinched your cheek, but you stayed still, even with the tense of your stance. mark snickers behind his hand, finding the sight amusing.
he lets a breath fall from his lips. "were gonna go study in my room, if that's okay.."
"that's fine! don't be afraid to tell me if you need anything!"
she claps her hands happily and ruffles mark's hair, yet you continue staring incredulously, as if the actions were alien. you only nodded, silence again overtaking you as you follow behind mark to his room, smiling at his mother as you walk your way there.
"your mom is nice" you whisper, mark only able to hear it because of the lack of space between you two. you still don't smile, a neutral expression remaining on your face.
mark again chuckles lightly, motioning his head forward as he holds his door open for you. "yeah, everyone says that, you okay though?"
you glance back at him, puzzled. "yeah.. i'm fine".
fine, that has to be a specific buzzword of sorts. mark again blinks, several emotions flaring in his irises. "well i noticed you kinda froze when my mom touched you".
you merely offer a shrug, settling onto the floor and pulling out the several books you'd been reading prior. "i'm just not used to that kind of affection".
mark raises an eyebrow, dropping his backpack onto the ground with a resounding thud, the many books practically shaking the floor. that was an answer didn't really expect. maybe he just doesn't get it, your mom can't be that bad, it's your mom! how could a mother not harbor affection towards her child.
you snap your head up, a look in your eye, as if you were daring him to make a brash comment about your family life. mark gulps in the quietest way possible, smile straining against his lips. "did you get any more notes on the steam engine's origins?"
you reply with a small smile, seemingly pleased he changed the topic.
hours go by with you two simply studying and talking about your topic, the familiar drag of your pen filling the air of mark's room. you didn't bring up anything off topic, it's honestly impressive how long you stayed without getting distracted, but mark assumes it's because you just don't enjoy talking.
you've pretty much given up on the subject at hand, resorting to drawing whatever in your notebook. dark circles begin visibly appearing under your eyes, but you still don't make a comment, simply preoccupying yourself with your mini art pieces.
mark stares, eyes drifting off to his open window, the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon. he admires the reddish-orange hue of the sky, his lips turning up at the picture.
"what time is it?"
mark's eyes flicker in a sudden shift, and he again glances at you, then at the clock against the wall. "it's almost eight pm".
you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, gathering the books you rested on the floor to again put back into your backpack. one click to your pen, you also let it fall into your pencil case. "i should probably get going now.. thank you for letting me come over".
mark shakes his hand, offering a dismissive wave. "it's nothing, if you want to start doing this more often.. you know my parent's won't mind".
you pause, letting your silence fester as you put on your backpack. you bite your inner cheek, mark can practically hear you thinking. "..maybe" you mutter, staring down at the floor as you begin making your way down the hall, towards the front door.
mark pretty much springs to his feet, he doesn't want to be an impolite guest, his mom always told him that it's nice to walk people out. "or we could just go back to studying in the library".
he really just wants you to be comfortable.
you pause, steps slowing down as you make it to the middle of the living room. your fingers tap against the straps of your backpack, licking your teeth. "i'll think about it, then when i decide i'll tell you".
mark finds himself smiling at that. it's again, a start. "okay, i can wait".
you share yet another neutral smile, but it seems your lips itch to turn up even more, you seem to want to share a genuine smile with mark, but you stop yourself for some reason. "you're so patient".
"i learned from the best".
you again bite your inner cheek, and mark's eyebrow raises, those words appear to displease you.
"oh are you leaving already y/n?"
your displeasure transforms into immediate bliss when mark's mother again enters, blinking. "yeah, it's getting late now".
"do you not want to stay for dinner?"
you again stop in your place, seemingly freezing. mark does the same, parroting your expression with his shoulders tensing. he glances over at you, watching as the inner battle your having in your head plays on your forehead in big bold letters. "um.. i—"
"mark!" his mother chastises, smacking his arm in a manner that draws a small wince. "what are you standing there for? invite your friend over for dinner!"
mark almost wants to utter he's not my friend, but that's just so mean to say out loud. he isn't exactly sure if that's what you would want or not, so his mouth again hangs open like he's some sort of idiot who doesn't know how to speak.
but you break the silence by chuckling silently. "it's okay mrs. lee i wouldn't want to overstay my welcome".
she sucks her teeth, waving a dismissive hand in the same manner mark does. "don't say that! you're welcome here now! have you eaten yet?"
you can only stare incredulously, biting the skin off your lips. "no not really.."
she gasps in horror, her big brown eyes holding a familiar look of worry. "you must be starving then! just stay for a few minutes, yeah?"
you so badly want to decline, mark sees it in the shift you perform, but it's also impossible to decline, you share one glance with mark, then you sigh. "okay.. thank you ma'am".
"don't thank me, i'm simply doing the bare minimum".
you wonder where you've heard that one before.
mark finally snaps out of his daze, a warm smile spreading across his features. "are you really staying?" he inquires when his mom walks back to the kitchen, the volume of his voice merely a small whisper.
"just for a few minutes" you whisper in reply, the straps of your backpack burning into your palm with how hard you're pressing onto it.
mark can barely even hide the bigger smile that threatens to paint his face. that's nice, it's not along the lines of a sure or an okay, it's something more.
maybe it's a step in the right direction.
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WHEN MONDAY AGAIN ROLLS AROUND, MARK has way too much on his mind. the crisp october air has just gotten cooler, his heavier sweaters now in need. a few days from now it might begin smelling much more brisk, trees will wither at an even quicker rate, the leaves crunching under his shoes will fly away in the breeze without bidding so much as a goodbye. by the time november comes to a close, mark will have worn out this red sweater he's so attached to. for now though, he's going to wear it every single day, it matches the appearance of the autumn season, he wants to stay on theme (and he also just has a super huge attachment to the sweater).
even after you stayed over for a few extra minutes to have dinner at his house, courtesy of his mother's own magnanimity, you two still don't establish any kind of friendship. he heard you utter a few words about how he clearly inherited that from her, but he feigned ignorance as he focused on eating dinner.
your presentation is next week, the last week was simply full of research questions and many pieces of cardboard scattered across the floor. the librarian finds the sight of you two so mundane that she greets you with a small nod each time you enter.
there's much more studying than there actually is talking about anything else, an unseen work ethic mark usually wouldn't find weird if it wasn't for the morbid curiosity he has for everything.. well— you.
mark stares as you continue jotting, tape on your right hand side you stare at the cardboard folder you two decided to use for your presentation. he's been distracted for a while now, but you're still as focused as ever, it's pretty admirable how dedicated you are to this project.
"do you maybe wanna be friends?"
the tiniest sound of ink dropping onto a paper stops, one click to your pen. you always seem to do that, pause midway through your actions before fully taking his words into account. you always stare at him as if he says something absurd, like he's a crazy person. mark finds each of your actions pretty strange.
"what?"
he claps his hands, nails scratching the back of his own palms. "i don't know.. you've had dinner with my parents already, isn't it weird that we aren't friends?"
you itch to say something, and mark wishes superpowers would be granted to him in this very moment. he can't tell what you're thinking and the irritation begins to seep in as quick as he craves for it to disappear. "unless you don't want to be friends.. i don't mind".
what a terrible liar. he does mind. he fucking minds so much it's going to begin physically paining him soon enough.
you let go of the tense you seem to hold onto, shoulders relaxing as you sink into your chair. "fine, let's be friends then".
you say the words in a manner that indicates you're just the slightest bit weirded out, almost everything about mark seems to weird you out, and maybe it makes mark feel a little insecure.
"what's your favorite season?"
"excuse me?" you narrow your eyes, and mark thinks any courage he could've held in that moment dies down in his throat.
mark blinks, you have no reason to be so terrifying. it must be some skill of yours. "well usually when you make friends with people you get to know them.. i don't really know much about you, it's a start".
a start, there it is again, a start. your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth, you pull your sleeves over your arms. "what? like twenty questions?"
mark's slow nod is almost barely recognizable. "yeah basically".
you stare for a moment, your silence overtaking you once again. maybe you're just thinking of an answer, maybe you don't think of these things in the way mark does, cogs turn in his brain, and he begins;
"i like summer.. mostly because my birthday is in summer but i've never really been a fan of the cold, it's excruciating to sleep in the summer but i greatly prefer it anyway, it's easier to sleep in heat than trudge to school in thick snow".
when mark releases a final breath, he again glances at you. oh! he just rambled, he just rambled through a response that he basically programmed into his head in preparation for this kind of question.
you again, look at him like he's crazy, but there's a hint of amusement in your expression, your lips threatening to turn up into a grin. "i don't really have a favorite".
mark's face scrunches, that's a boring answer. "okay but if you had to choose, which one would you pick?"
your shoulders again drop, rising into a shrug that isn't exactly of confusion, but something much more complicated. "autumn, it's like the in between season, summer makes my skin feel too clammy and winter is just.. painful".
"painful?"
"i don't really enjoy snow" you begin clicking your pen consistently once more. mark wonders if that's one of your anxious habits, he has some of those as well, he wonders a lot about you. "i guess it can be pretty but it's so cold i just can't help but dislike it".
"valid point".
you hum in response, and mark again smiles. it's pretty nice talking to you about just stupid things like this, hopefully you can share more moments in such a fashion. "do you like history?"
you snort. "not as much as you clearly do".
mark shakes his head for some reason. "i don't really enjoy history i just put a crazy amount of effort into it like i do my other subject.."
"well you have to stay on the principal's honor roll".
mark clears his throat, if he couldn't pinpoint your tone of voice, he would've thought you were insulting him with a show of sarcasm, but it's quite the opposite, there's a show of admiration in that tone of yours, respect. it's flattering, and if mark wasn't still afraid of you punching him in the face, he would've allowed for tease to slip from his lips.
"you're very smart too, just in your own way".
"well i'm much more of a science person" you respond, and mark's eyes widen in a form of daze. he had no idea what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that.
"science?"
"you seem surprised" you utter, just the faintest hint of surprise on your features as you mirror the look mark gave you seconds prior (save for your eyes widening).
"i don't know, i would've never guessed science".
"i've long finished that class i just.. i find the aspect of science interesting" you pause your consistent clicking of your pen, again beginning to draw out something in your notebook.
mark almost wants to inquire about what you draw on the pages, but he keeps that in the recesses of his mind. "like biology and stuff?"
"physics, chemistry, astronomy, all the bullshit you hate learning about in school" though you focus on the drawing you seem pretty into, you also remember to give as much attention to mark. "it's interesting to research about when there isn't an uptight guy up your ass".
mark snickers at the reply, completely knowing of the teacher you're referring to with that sentence. "mr. cho isn't that bad".
"oh trust me, he is".
you giggle at your own response, the first show of a genuine smile mark sees on your face ever since the first time he met you. "sorry for calling you weird the last time".
shock flickers in mark's galaxy like irises. he wasn't exactly expecting an apology from you, he already got over it (as much as he could with how terrified of you he was). "it's okay, i guess i was being kinda pushy".
"no i was just being difficult, don't blame yourself".
mark wants to but in, yet his mouth clamps shut. he itches to tell you no, to tell you that he just doesn't get you yet, but it's not your fault.
"well were friends now, so it doesn't matter".
when your eyes cast towards him, an unusual shiver runs down his spine, but a smile stays stuck to his face.
after legions of fear, friendship is finally established.
but it's still a little strange. though mark finally knows a few new interesting factoids concerning you (your favorite season is autumn, you have an interest in science, and you aren't as scary as you may seem), you're still a pretty clear mystery.
the rest of the week is spent finalizing your project, there's again less off topic talking again, and mark holds on to that small conversation you originally had in the library for the next few days, looking forward to the next time he can have such a talk with you.
you seem to thrive in silence, so mark doesn't try to force more conversation between you two, when you want to talk to him, you'll talk to him.
but mark still has that itching curiosity which won't go away.
"do you ever worry about someone for no reason?"
mark inquires it to donghyuck on the following friday, the barely warm breeze rushing past them, slightly lifting hairs from their heads. donghyuck blinks, stretching his legs forward onto the rest of the aluminum bleachers. "what do you mean by that?"
mark pauses, he should've expected donghyuck to answer his question with a question. it was all abrupt, flimsy, it wasn't all thought out like most of his inquiries. "i don't know.. sometimes i don't talk much to someone and i still feel like something is going on".
donghyuck raises an eyebrow. "ohh, you're talking about y/n".
mark doesn't even know why he's shocked, out of words, he nods at his response.
donghyuck lets out a breath. "y/n's a pretty stalling guy, he usually doesn't get to the point quickly, you might just be worried because he won't confide in you".
"i mean.. it still feels like there's more there, i can understand if he doesn't want to talk to me but i'm also afraid something more might be going on, you know?"
donghyuck sucks his teeth, offering mark an elbow nudge that seems along the lines of an affectionate gesture. "that might just be because of your naturally aiding impulses, i'm sure if something is going on, y/n just isn't telling you because he doesn't want you to freak".
mark's face scrunches. "i'm not going to freak".
"well then you clearly don't know yourself" donghyuck pats mark on his shoulder, grabbing his backpack and shrugging it over his shoulder. just as mark is about to give yet another brash response, donghyuck quips; "wanna race back to my place?"
before mark can respond, donghyuck leaps off the bleachers and begins sprinting, much to his own dismay. "hey! that's cheating!" he shouts, but donghyuck makes no move of slowing down.
mark curses at his own best friend, trying his best to keep up the pace. "donghyuck!"
all he receives in return is a gleeful giggle.
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MARK FIRST MEETS YOUR PARENTS THE FOLLOWING WEEK, an event that was entirely accidental. you guys ace the project, the resounding look of pride from your teacher alerts you of that. the a+ was guaranteed you say, from the moment mrs. lim decided to place you two in a project together she knew it was. still, even with the usually high expectations, mark can barely contain himself, almost hugging you in the aftermath of the whole thing. he isn't sure how he managed to keep it all to himself, but he did, and it's good that he did, he was afraid of making it all more awkward. he was pleased to see a smile blossom on your face, your smile is pretty, it's fitting.
the moment class ends, he makes his way over to you. "we did a good job" he whispers, the volume of his voice barely able to be considered a whisper. he held his hand up, wincing in his own mind as he watches you stare.
but, fortunately for mark, you give him a high five, your hands meeting in a silent slap. for the sheer moment your palms meet, he basks in the feeling of your rough callouses against his soft ones. "you did a good job".
"we did a good job" mark specifies, and you stand up from your place, simply responding with a small nod.
you decide to not argue with him, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. there's a small silence that settles into the air, but then mark again perks up. "do you want to walk home together?"
shock colors your features, an instant look of fear flickering in your eyes. "i— i mean.."
you lick your lips, thousands of thoughts running rampant through your mind. "sure" you reply, feeling mark's heavy gaze directed towards you.
again, it's just a sure, nothing exactly reassuring.
mark tightens his hold on his backpack, a small look in his eye that you actively avoid. he decides to not comment on it, instead letting the silence fester as you two bid farewell to your fellow classmates and begin walking home.
it seems you walk home to school as well, you haven't muttered anything about a bus, or about your parents taking you to and from school. he usually sees you walk in the opposite direction of the bus stop, so he simply assumes you walk home like he does.
he hears you mumble something under your breath, and he narrows his eyes, curiosity peaked by the unintelligible words. he glances at you, eyes full of anxiety. "is everything okay?"
your head snaps up so quickly mark almost squeaks at the sharp movement. your eyes are widened comically, but mark can't even find an awkward chuckle ready to leave his lips, you look terrified, you look.. scared.
"m' fine".
"you sure?"
you don't have to lie to me.
mark decides to keep that one to himself.
"yeah i'm fine" you say, avoiding eye contact and stomping your shoes.
you stop in front of an unfamiliar house, only half the walk towards mark's own place. oh, so you don't live that far away from school. you live closer than mark even does, he guesses he again learned something new about you.
"hey you don't even live that far away" mark says, hoping his smile will somehow brighten your mood. he watches a small flicker of bliss form on your face, and he manages to contain his own elation. "you didn't tell me you lived close by".
you again mutter something unintelligible under your breath, but your tone of voice indicates that you're just the slightest bit afraid once again.
mark is about to ask again when the door swings open, and an unfamiliar woman with a mean look in her eye. she squints at the sight of you, irritation crossing her expression. "i thought you were staying at school late".
the look of fear in your eyes becomes more of embarrassment, but the terror remains. "i um— i messed it up, my projects over".
mark studies her face for a moment, he assumes that's your mother, but he doesn't capture a single resemblance between you two. "crock of shit" she mumbles, her eyes shift erratically, and she clicks her tongue in a manner reminiscent of how you do it.
mark stops as he feels an awkwardness shift in the air, and she finally has half a mind to acknowledge his presence. "do i know you?"
her head tilts slightly, and mark almost jumps back in complete terror. "no i.. mark lee, i'm y/n's friend".
she raises an eyebrow, a chuckle of disbelief being her immediate response. "you have friends?"
you lick your teeth, the irritation in your expression betraying the words on your lips: "i didn't mean to lie" you continue to avoid her eyes, as if afraid she might turn you into stone if you even glance at her face. "i'm sorry".
she dismisses your apology rather quickly. "whatever i don't care.." she almost rolls her eyes, but she seems to stop it. "it's nice to meet you.." she snaps her fingers as her words trail off, and mark realizes she forgot his name already. "mark".
your cheeks tint pink with embarrassment, and you look down at the floor, holding in your breaths. "can i have a few minutes?" you mumble, tutting silently.
she shrugs. "be quick, we have to talk" irritation laces her tone, and she places a performative smile on her face as she glances at mark, the door closing behind her.
mark is almost completely overtaken by his silence, but then you sigh, shoulders relaxing. "was that your mom?"
you mimic her prior shrug, tongue prodding at your cheek. "more or less.." you don't exactly react to those words, simply have an indifferent expression on.
"you don't look like her at all".
the moment the words escape mark, he slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes widening. that has to be offensive in some way, that's absolutely ridiculous to say, if his mom were here she'd smack him on the back of the head for the way he just acted. instead, you reply with a silent chuckle, a small smile painting your face.
"foster parents".
mark blinks. "what?"
"they're my foster parents, not my actual ones" you explain, and mark's heart drops to his feet.
oh. that's the entire expanse of your situation. mark didn't exactly think that would be the case, he doesn't know what he expected, but it definitely wasn't this.
"oh" he voices out loud, gritting his own teeth. "i— i'm sorry i didn't know".
he almost feels guilty in a sense.
for what, though?
"it's alright" you shake your head, shrugging your backpack over your shoulder, your expression of indifference remains. "see you on monday".
mark has no idea how he collects his words. "yeah, see you.."
but mark can't walk home without the feeling of nausea bubbling up in his stomach.
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CONTRARY TO YOUR VERY WORDS, YOU DO NOT show up on monday. mark immediately jumps to the worst possible outcome. he isn't exactly sure why he jumped to thinking the worst, he's simply afraid something happened. your.. mothers sharp glare remains permanently framed in his memory, she was absolutely terrifying. when monday flies by with no sight of you, mark almost wants to walk to your place himself, but he keeps himself settled in his own thoughts, he wouldn't want to freak you out. his worries extended towards the day after, the greeting november air only adding to his worries.
now the oncoming cooler air is completely welcomed on mark's part. he enjoys the cold weather more than he has the gall to admit, and his dark red sweater has already been worn out even after only a week of consistently wearing it.
mark entered class on tuesday with a whole wave of nausea overtaking anything else he could've been feeling. when he took his seat, he practically waited to be bestowed with bad news.
he licks his lips as the teacher begins taking attendance, the 'here' he mutters is full of distraught he couldn't tell he was holding.
mrs. lim narrowed her eyes at her clipboard, the click of her tongue bouncing off the walls. "has anyone seen y/n?"
the question is asked out of sheer curiosity, just the slightest hint of worry present in her tone. it's a thing to be absent once, but you're usually only absent once, you're a pretty consistent student in terms of attendance.
her eyes flicker up, and the rest of the class begin their resounding murmurs. mark merely glances around, licking his teeth, additionally sucking his teeth to sell his irritation.
she scrunches her nose, about to ask again when, as if on cue, you walk in through the door. the indifference painted on your face is similar to the one he memorized back on that friday. you blink, avoiding her eyes in the manner of an ashamed child. "sorry i'm late" you mutter, frantically extending your gaze around the whole room.
mrs. lim stares, attempting to read your inner most thoughts. "it's okay just.. you'll get a tardy pass later sit down".
you offer your best nod, lips remained pressed shut as you shuffle towards your seat, avoiding mark's eyes specifically. his gaze trails onto yours, but because he can't see your eyes, he can't read how you feel.
you hang your head low as you take your seat, the familiar dragging of your pen against your notebook page not filling the room. mark feels as if the room is suffocating him whole, your very presence itself strangely scaring him.
"why didn't you show up yesterday?" mark inquires, he really wants make it sound like it's all okay, but his words trail off into an accusing whine.
you pause, shrugging. there's so much exhaustion behind your eyes, as if you've missed out on weeks upon weeks of sleep. "something came up".
you attempt your best shot at walking away from mark, back faced towards him as you walk in the direction of the bathroom.
mark scrunches his face, speeding up his own pace and brushing his shoulder against yours. he can no longer contain his curiosity, you look absolutely terrified of.. something. "what came up?"
"nothing".
"don't lie to me".
mark's expression of worry is now at full affect, his big brown eyes holding anxiety. you manage your best scoff, the grasp on your backpack tightening. your face twitches, the flicker in your eyes betraying the disdain you attempt to face make with.
still, you try to brush him off, shaking your head. "i'm not lying, and besides, it's none of your business".
mark kisses his teeth, a loud sigh now leaving his lips. he clears his throat, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.
you stare, crumbling under his undeniably soft gaze. "i'm sorry" you mumble, immediately looking away from him, eyes shifting uncontrollably. "i just don't want to talk about it" you poke the side of your cheek with your tongue, clasping your hands behind your back.
mark stares down at his feet, biting down into his bottom lip. he scratches at his own fingers, anxious impulses all high and mighty. "it's alright, i— um.. do you wanna go get ice cream?"
you blink, sucking your teeth. you scratch the back of your neck, and mark has no idea why he asks that question, he just knows ice cream usually makes him feel better, maybe it's the same for you.
"ice cream? in november?"
"ice cream always helps people feel better".
you offer a small chuckle at that, head turned down as you nod.
mark smiles, he can't believe that worked. your walk to the local ice cream parlor is silent, clear fatigue still present under your eyes. you lightly shiver at the cold breeze that rushes past you, a faint mutter from mark questioning if you two should even be going to get ice cream in the first place.
"you're the one who suggested we get ice cream" you breath out, making no indication that you were against the idea of getting ice cream after school in the beginnings of winter. "i don't mind".
"but i just want to make sure".
the words seemingly appall you, and mark realizes that most of his words seem to have that effect on you. you again fester in your silence, tongue licking at your lips as you catch sight of the nearby ice cream parlor. "it doesn't really matter.."
why doesn't it matter? why is it so strange that i care about you y/n?
the words don't escape mark, they simply fizzle out into the air as the screeching of the open door instead meets his ears. mark is quick to smile as you two walk into the ice cream parlor, his humming immediately filling the air.
"i kind of see ice cream as a comfort thing because it reminds me of summer.." mark mutters, licking his spoon stained with the cookie dough flavoring.
you don't eat right away, simply stab your spoon into your pile of vanilla. "how can something so cold be so comforting?"
just look at you.
you suck your teeth, as if sensing his thoughts, the ice cream brightens your mood in just the slightest, he can see it in the way your eyes flare up. at least he momentarily got it, at least there's at least a sliver of happiness there.
"everything cold is comforting in summer".
"it's going to begin snowing soon" you smack your lips at the taste of vanilla on your tongue, it's just.. vanilla. "might get a brain freeze".
"worth it for the sugar".
now that, that draws a small snicker from you, your lips finally turning up in a display of ecstasy. maybe it isn't you finding that funny, but it's you finding mark's delivery to be blissful. your head tips down as you attempt to stifle your laughter, but you can't exactly hold yourself together.
mark stares at the prospect, his lips turning up unconsciously as his gaze is stick onto you, and how you look.. pleased.
mark can't even contain it. he loves seeing you be happy.
which then results in his mind retracting, he thinks back to the sight of your mother's angry face, and his lips turn downward.
maybe you were gone because something happened at home, mark can really do nothing but assume.
"sacrificing your well being for sugar? that's so.. strange".
"sugar is a good coping tool" mark breaths, throwing out the ice cream that he finished rather quickly.
you simply hum in reply, clearly not believing those words, but letting mark have the win anyway.
"hey y/n?"
you blink, your gaze slow as you stare down mark. mark clears his throat, swallowing his own fear. "i want you to talk to me.. okay? i don't mean to come off as pushy or annoying or nosey i just want to make sure you're alright, i'm not going to bite or anything".
you opt to awkwardly chuckle at that last bit, again shrugging your backpack over your shoulder. "i know.."
mark's face scrunches, he still doesn't really have you, you're still pretty withdrawn. "you don't have to tell me about everything just.. you know i'm here, if you ever need someone to talk to—"
"you'll be my first choice, don't worry" you finish the next half of your sentence with your own words, words that can't be feigned honesty, as you avoid mark's eyes in the process.
the words strike something.. different in mark. is it maybe bliss? some undiscovered form of happiness? he doesn't exactly know the name, even if it feels as if it's on the tip of his tongue, but he's pleased for now. there's trust that's been established between you two, you trust mark.
"okay, okay" mark heaves a breath, his smile sticking to his face.
you seem to like his smile, because your pupils dilate at the sight of it.
maybe it isn't exactly the ice cream that helped you feel better, but mark can't figure out that it might be him that's your cure.
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FRIENDSHIP ALSO MEANS HAVING TO SPEND time with each other, something that seems easy enough. "spending time" simply equates to mark talking and you listening. again, you don't exactly enjoy talking, so you leave all of it to him. mark talks to death about himself, his life, his dad, his mom, stuff you probably don't find interesting, but keep circulating through your mind. mark can hear the disdain you must be feeling, because all he does is talk about his stuff. he doesn't think he would enjoy that if it was someone else, but you really don't seem to mind, as long as you don't need to do the talking.
"do i talk about myself too much?" mark abruptly inquires, head whipping towards you in an instant. your gaze is fixed on the ground, and you opt to sucking your teeth as a silent response. "it's alright, you can be honest".
you snicker at that. "you're a very.. thoughtful person".
mark narrows his eyes. what is that supposed to mean?
"you think a lot, there's simply so much on your mind" you clarify, tongue dragging across your teeth. "i don't mind if you talk, it's how i learn".
"learn about..?"
"you, what you like, how you are, talk all you want it's okay".
mark straightens himself, hands dropping into his lap. "i want you to talk".
you raise an eyebrow. "what?"
"talk about yourself, i know enough about me, why don't you tell me about you?"
"i'm not that interesting" your quick to say, fingers beginning to pick at your own individual nails. when mark sends you a look, you follow up on your words; "really i'm not, don't look at me like that".
mark takes in a deep sigh, carting a hand through his light brown hair. "it doesn't matter".
you bite into your cheek. mark parroted your own words to signal at least.. something, reaching out to you might be a challenge, but mark isn't going to stop trying.
you contemplate, eyes heavy lidded. "i mean— why are you at the police station so much?"
the police station. that's where you two first met, you raise your shoulders into a performed shrug. your dark sweater paralleling the color of your eyes, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "my parents are assholes".
the words are said surely, there isn't indifference there, there is no dissatisfaction behind your eyes, you know what you're saying, you don't even mind what you're saying.
mark could never say such a thing, let alone say them about his parents.
"oh".
mark clears his throat. "you're a foster kid? how does that work?"
mark knows how it works, he just needs to see how the terms spill from your lips. "they just drop me into another home when my other foster parents get sick of me, adoption is useless so i just stay with strangers who get paid monthly that don't care".
mark isn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't that. his mouth remains dry, what is a regular response to exposition like that? he scratches at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, guilt again in the air.
"sorry, i really know how to ruin the mood".
"no no! it's okay, i'm the one who asked".
"still, didn't need to make it all.. depressing".
"i mean— it is pretty depressing" mark scratches at his own knees, smile awkward. "but sometimes that's just how life decides to treat us".
us is a bit of a shallow way to put it, mark doesn't understand your circumstances, he's never faced any of what you face. "i'm sorry, i wish i could do something".
"you need to stop apologizing".
"but—"
"stop" you suck a breath between your teeth, hands placed symmetrically at your sides.
"alright, sorr.." he pauses when you raise an eyebrow, the beginning of his second apology forcing itself back down his throat. "okay".
you just barely hold back your shiver, the fall air rushing past you in a speed reminiscent of the ocean. "shit like that isn't your fault, i get you're.. you care, i know, but you don't have to apologize".
mark opts to awkwardly chuckle. "i don't really know what else to say.."
"you're a nice person to be around".
the words are enough to get a pause, but you don't exactly mind it, you said those words with conviction, as if you had previously thought them out and were completely sure of what they entailed.
or maybe you can secretly sense the effect they have, because mark isn't exactly the best at hiding the formations of his newest expressions. his eyes light up, the shine of the sun peeking behind the clouds amplifying the pleasure he recedes from the compliment.
your lips turn up by in the slightest, and you suck a breath between your teeth as you patiently await his response.
"oh" mark breaths, clearing his throat as he lets the strange feeling in his stomach settle away. "thank you.."
you don't reply, your smile simply mundane. you again kiss your teeth, mark's fingers fiddling at his necklace. "i.. uh— another thing i'm pretty interested in astronomy".
the mutter is half said, the rest of your words trailing off into something barely intelligible. mark's eyes dazzle in intrigue, astronomy is pretty interesting. "you like space?"
"i love space" you shake your head in disbelief at your own words. "it's pretty, the stars, the planets, just.. all of it is beautiful".
"and deadly".
now that one is a surprise, because you aren't able to stifle your laughter, your head shaking as a display of your amusement. "well yeah but that can be said for many things".
mark's eyes again dazzle, his own intrigue building up at the reply. "that's what makes a lot of the world interesting".
your eyebrow raise in a parroting of mark's own intrigue. "more like it's what makes it terrifying".
"terrifying can be interesting".
"i never said it couldn't".
your knees knock together, an indecisive look in your eye. you pull your sleeves over your arms when you begin noticing the goosebumps, a sigh leaving your lips immediately. "it's fine if you talk, i don't mind".
mark has no idea why, but he feels that those words are a lie. "it doesn't get repetitive?"
your expression falters for a simple moment, but instead of speaking, you keep your words to yourself. you shake your head silently, hands placed into your lap.
there's a moment of silence again, mark carefully crafts his next words, straightening his posture as he keeps his gaze trained straight ahead. "do you like drawing?"
seamless segway.
it would be seamless if mark wasn't shaking so much, maybe it was dumb of him to forget his sweater, but in his defense, it was warm in the morning! he would've been sweating on the way to school.
mark thinks if he focuses enough, he'll be able to hear the familiar continuous clicking of your pen in the background.
he again shudders, a small breath leaving his lips.
when you glances back at you, you smoothly slip your sweater from your arms and hand it over, slightly startling mark back. your face remains still, your gaze averting in an instant. "take it".
mark blinks dumbly.
you suck your teeth. "your cold, take it, you can give it back to me tomorrow".
"y/n—"
"you're not walking home cold.." you mutter, simply placing the sweater in mark's lap as you watch him again involuntarily shudder. "i'll be okay, don't worry about me".
mark wants to argue, but you leave no room for that, stubbornly crossing your arms. he takes the sweater and mutters a silent "thank you" 
a somewhat ggressive act of kindness, mark guesses that's pretty fitting for the kind of person you are.
he still tries to get you to open up, and slowly, it seems to be working.
"i know you hate snow" he comments whilst you two walk down the hallway that friday. he tightens the grip he has on his bag, a small smile on his face as he pictures the upcoming winter. your hum is a usual response, a simple sound mark has to focus to even catch. "how do you plan to survive winter?"
you snicker silently, again humming. "can't do anything but walk".
"you better have good boots".
"i have good boots, maybe not a good jacket, though".
he's about to ask for clarification when the spawn of satan decides it's his time to shine; "markie!"
mark flinches when donghyuck comes around the corner, bouncing on his heels as he makes his way over to mark. mark's loud sigh ricochets off the walls of the hallway. "that's the bane of my existence.." he mutters towards you, and you chuckle lightly.
"you're so sweet to me" donghyuck's smile is strained, but he doesn't focus all his attention on mark that often. his eyes flit over towards you, and there's immediate intrigue there. "and you must be the famous y/n!"
the volume of his voice causes for your face to strain, but you keep it all together as to not offend him. you glance everywhere before again focusing on his face, a small smile showing up on your lips. "famous is.. probably pretty dramatic".
donghyuck exchanges a knowing look with mark, who blushes and clears his throat whilst feigning ignorance at that glance. he extends his hand towards you, whistling. "well with how mark is, it seems you are".
he snickers, and mark just barely keeps himself from punching the younger. you shake your head as you too shake his hand, avoiding mark's eyes. "okay then, it's nice to meet you.."
"donghyuck".
"donghyuck, nice to meet you".
mark watches the interaction with wide eyes, his mind rushing with a flurry of thoughts. "i can't believe this is our first time meeting! it's been a while since you two became friends huh?"
friends is a weird word, but you don't exactly comment on it. "yeah, mark has mentioned you before he just never said your name".
mark blows a breath between his lips, unaware of why his anxieties are suddenly rising. you glance at him, practically sensing the presence of his anxiety. mark almost jumps, but he manages to keep himself together. "i have to get home early, i'll see you monday".
you don't exactly seem sure of those words, but your smile makes it all look fine. "it was nice meeting you donghyuck".
the other only hums, you two exchanging smiles as you begin your way down the hallway, smile dropping once you get a wise distance away from them.
mark keeps the silence before donghyuck pipes up; "isn't he cute?"
mark chokes on his own spit, his face noticeably scrunching up as he glances in his childhood friends direction. "what?"
"don't tell me you've never thought it before" donghyuck snickers, affectionately nudging mark as an uncertain smile tugs at his lips.
"i haven't! you're so.. strange".
donghyuck narrows his eyes, clearly he doesn't believe such words. "okay mark, i'll believe that for your own sake".
and mark can't register why he assumes he's lying, donghyuck is just crazy.
donghyuck is just crazy.
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OKAY, NOW THAT IT'S BEEN MENTIONED, MARK can't exactly stop thinking about it. donghyuck can be so stupid sometimes, but maybe it's somewhat justified. he never really took the time to focus on your facial features in specific, and he guesses that laying awake at three in the morning is the perfect time to focus on them. mark noticed everything, nose freckles, moles, the shape of your eyes, the curve of your lips, your dark brown irises, he usually picks off the physical traits of those he's meeting for the first time with stark detail in his own mind. he really never did think about it, but now he has all the time too.
are you cute? mark's eyes stick to the photos decorating his walls, the figures shrouded in darkness without the light of the sun permeating through the window aiding in producing the shin they so clearly require.
yeah, you are. mark isn't over admitting when he finds a guy cute, you can easily be described as such. there's something about the flicker of your eyes that entices him, but that's just.. strange.
he opts to rolling over, staring at his alarm clock nestled onto the bedside table. being kept up because you're stuck pondering about whether you're friend not friend is cute is absolutely idiotic. since when has this happened before?
that question is also idiotic, it hasn't.
he pulls the covers over him and nuzzles against his pillow, feigning ignorance to his flurry of thoughts with a sigh as he keeps the pattern of your moles pictured in his head.
thanksgiving breezes past just as it always does every year, donghyuck's family again comes over for the festivities ('festivities' equaling the sharing of meals while the two scarf down pretty much everything in the kitchen), but mark stays unfocused even with a bunch of people other than you around him.
then the end of november speed runs until mark's face scrunches at the upcoming first day of december.
december is too cold, there's no foresight of ice on the ground, no snow ready to sneak up on everybody just yet, but he doesn't care, he can already feel the grimace ready to be painted over his features.
and as the cold breeze balls up it's fist into an open punch, mark takes a small breath;
you said you hate winter.
mark gets it, but it's less of you hating winter and more of mark constantly thinking of.. well— you.
again, he doesn't exactly need to take history, the class is as useless to his academic record as it is interesting, but mark won't continue complaining, he's terrified mrs. lim can secretly read his mind.
"what class are you taking next semester?" mark whispers, leaning back in his seat as the widening of his eyes is in tune with his complete interest.
your shoulders rise in a puzzled shrug, the familiar drag of your pen now right in mark's ear. you don't make an effort to glance upward, but mark is aware you're paying adequate attention anyway. "not sure, they always tell me after, what are you taking?"
mark decides to completely scoot backward, the crack of knuckles causing for your face to scrunch. "computer programming".
there's a beam in your eyes. "as a senior?"
mark's snicker is a result of your tone. "it's for last minute credits, just like this class.."
"ah".
you again engross yourself in whatever it is you're doing in your notebook, mark attempts to sneak a glance, but you seem to sense his eyes, as you flip the page upward where his eyes can't meet it.
well shit, you caught him.
yet you don't mutter a single word about the event which just transpired, you simply continue with the similar drag of your pen.
at this point, the sound is a puzzling solacing noise for mark. he'll never utter such words loudly though, it's strange to admit that the sound of someone drawing in their notebook has become a sense of comfort for you.
mark sometimes wonders how deep the corners of his mind expand. "finals week is coming up".
you hum in reply, nodding your head, pen seemingly having a mind of it's own. mark glances over, unable to decipher the gleam of your eyes. it could be irritation, or maybe it's satisfaction, you're confident in the strength of your brain, it doesn't seem like you would struggle.
your eyes flit up for a moment, and then you snicker for a reason completely unknown to mark. "you nervous?" he decides to quip.
another hum. "always, but i trust most of my intellect".
"you should, you're very smart".
the compliment is spontaneous, an abrupt uttering that you clearly weren't expecting, as heat coils against your skin, the reddish tint clashing with your once vain cheeks. your lips part, the dragging of your pen subsides. you then glance away as you clear your throat, blowing smoke through your lips.
"i'm sure you'll be fine" mark finally finishes, big eyes bugging out as he decides to avert his gaze. "don't give me that look, i've observed, you have one of the highest grades in the class".
"it's all just.. nothing".
mark decides to snicker. "not nothing, you have the ability".
"i guess i'll take your word for it" tease lingers on your tongue. "smartest kid in class after all".
there, now you two are even. you just complimented mark with words that he hears from people everywhere, but hearing them from you is what gets a stupid smile out of him. "oh.. well i don't know about that one".
mark tucks a strand behind his ear, the slightest bit of meekness displayed by his eyes. your eyes flitter upward, and the curve of your lips is satisfying. "yeah you do, you're smart, honor roll smart".
"i would say you're the same".
you long to take those words as a challenge, mark notices a certain burning in your eyes, but you opt to a small smile instead. "not enough for honors".
"well i think so".
and maybe, that's the only thing that matters. your face appears to light up, but you decide it's best to not comment on such a thing.
as the colder days approach, mark learns even more about you he doesn't exactly expect.
and it all comes through smoking.
"what?"
you seem amused by the inquiry asked of you, and mark's eyes widen in their usual jolted fashion, his hands clutching at his sides. you seem to look through him, humor still present in your tone as you reply; "did you just.. you smoke?"
mark clears his throat, eyes immediately averting, his gaze zeroing in on the visible air he can see being blown through his lips. "it's like a— um, anxiety tick thing, sometimes when i get overwhelmed it helps".
you bite into your cheek, shoving a hand into your pocket as you rummage for a while, pulling out a lighter which you shake in air, listening to the clinking of the metal. mark's eyes again bug out, a usual reaction for him, his expression reminiscent of a child hearing someone swear for the first time. "oh.. so you smoke?"
you pass the lighter, whistling in the air as you nod. "yeah, same thing really, it's not regular or anything i just sometimes need to let go".
mark longs to ask why, and you practically read his mind with the words displayed all over his face. "my parents are such amazing stressors, it'd be a shock if i didn't smoke at this point".
he can only stare, blowing smoke out from his lips as he watches it form in front of him. "it gets bad for me during exam season, finals get to my head and i can't resist".
"your parents don't know?"
mark shakes his head rapidly back and forth, a snicker falling from his lips. "nope, i think they would kill me if they found out.. can't let them know".
you opt to once again humming, shoving the lighter back in your pocket as your nose scrunches. you scratch behind your ear, howling winds earning the slightest shiver from you. "ah, i see".
mark keeps himself silent, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he stares forward, his eyes then falling to the ground. it's bare, empty, the sight of snow may meet his eyes in the coming days, maybe tomorrow even, the weather has always been know as unpredictable, a snowstorm could happen tonight, mark is afraid of that one.
"please don't tell anyone" mark whispers, eyes still cast downward. it's embarrassing, not even donghyuck knows that he does, and he's sure donghyuck is a smoker himself. he isn't exactly sure why.. he just knows what the reaction would be. "it's.. um, i don't know actually, feels like everyone thinks of me as a certain person so if they were to find out—"
"i won't tell" you state immediately, raising your pinky. "you have my word" is your next collection of words, mark blinks at you with shining eyes.
a pinky promise? he isn't sure what he expected, but he guesses they are the closest thing to a legally binding agreement.
mark intertwines his pinky with yours, the clash of your fingers together something of a prospect. your finger is rough, his are soft, he can't help but keep that fact tucked away in his mind. "pinky swear?"
"pinky swear".
mark decides he will take your word for it.
he supposes pinky swears do a lot for people, as long as the promise isn't broken, he won't have a reason as to not trust you.
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IT'S A WEEK BEFORE FINALS WHEN MARK REALIZES yet another thing he doesn't exactly mean to discover. your simply.. esteemed love for thai food is a prospect he didn't exactly expect, but with a week until finals and the end of the year breathing down your neck, he guesses learning more about you is the right way to go. he wonders if there'll be many more turns to take in the future, he wonders how much truly runs through your heads. through picking your nails and raising eyebrows, he's already been able to decipher a lot, maybe he could just learn more if..
"do you know any good thai restaurants nearby?" he inquires, arms placed idly as he again admires your side profile. you hum, scratching at the sleeves of your sweater. it's a pretty one, the hue is a dark red, mark is curious on if the shades of red are your favorite, he forgets to ask.
your snort is short. "not in this town, it's a distance away from here, used to go regularly as a kid, it'll never get old.."
"so it's like.. a place of comfort?"
"basically" you reply, getting comfortable in your chair. it's the midway point of the period, the class is doing nothing but studying for finals next week, it leaves room for flurries of conversations mark otherwise wouldn't have been able to have with you.
it's nice, discussions flow a little easier between you two now that you've gotten slightly closer. though skepticism remains at an all time high (mark picks up on the mutters you occasionally let slip about your parents, something along the lines of fighting, loose funds, substances, his eyebrows keep furrowed), mark finds the now regular talks a fond juncture.
he rests his head onto his fist, scratching at his jaw with mid length nails. "when was your last visit?"
you shrug despite clearly knowing your response, arms coming to fold over your chest. "i haven't gone since high school began, makes sense because that's when i got put with.. them".
'them' equating to your current foster parents, mark unconsciously slides downward in his seat, anxiety rising. he observes the twitching of your left eye, a sight almost frightening.
"do you— um.. can you go again?"
your right eye closes, a sign of your contemplation. "they're.. my parents, they're crazy".
"have you never attempted to sneak?"
you chuckle, seemingly amused. "really? sneaking? i would've never thought that from you".
"i took part a few times, you could thank donghyuck for that one" mark keeps his head leaned sideways, it's easy to admire your features in this manner. you have a nice side profile, the left of your jaw perfectly highlighted in the lighting of the room. your lips curve upward at the reply, enjoyment behind your eyes.
"oh, i see, you're that kind of pair".
mark longs to figure out the meaning of those words, but you once again begin whistling, arms folding over your chest.
a specific question keeps echoing in mark's mind.
"you could.. uh— why don't we go together?"
you blink, dumbfounded. you study mark for a moment, and he suddenly feels unconscious under your gaze. you then silently snicker, just the slightest bit amused. "what?"
his hands find purchase on the desk before him, eyes avoiding yours, throat clearing. "um.. i just— i don't know, you seem to be fond of the place, wouldn't visiting be nice?"
your eyes narrow. "you're so.. wow, okay".
you chuckle, hiding your oncoming expression behind the cover of your own hands. mark remains anxious at the lack of a reply, nails coming to scratch at his hands. "is that a no?"
"no, no! you're just.. too sweet" you opt to reply, laughter carrying you through. mark feels heat coil over his cheeks, he's sure that it may manifest in color which permeates his skin, but he can't exactly think about that.
"oh, um— i.."
"while i would love to go" you begin, smoothing your hands over your jeans. "that's implying i have to sneak out".
oh, mark can't believe how dangerously impulsive he is.
but instead of a snark, you smile, it's small, yet it results in genuine ease sinking into mark's anxiety ridden heart, his hands coming to clasp together. "that was a dumb thing to say right? i'm sorry, forget i even said anything".
you contemplate for a moment, mark's anxiety again rising as your silence merely continues. "that's a good idea, it'd be nice to go before it starts snowing".
mark almost dies, was that just a yes?
you seemingly read his mind, because your lips do a swift upturn. "i guess i wouldn't mind sneaking out".
mark blinks, attempting to properly register the words without looking like a crazy person. "i didn't— i mean.. you don't have to, i don't want to get you in trouble, if it does—"
"doesn't matter" you cross your arms, leaning back in your seat. "at this point, getting grounded is a blessing for me, it's not that far a walk".
"are you sure?"
you lick your teeth. "i've been conditioned to hide my money better, they barely pay any attention to me".
mark digests the depression littering those words, but you keep up appearances, preventing the dejection from blossoming up in your features. there's shy disappointment behind your eyes, yet you don't comment. "i'm sorry.."
your head snaps in his direction rather quickly. "for what?"
mark shakes his head in reply. "i.. um—"
"don't apologize for something that isn't your fault".
mark bites his tongue before he allows for another apology to slip, your eyebrow raise simply enough to shut him up. you remain the slightest bit terrifying, even after established friendship. "can't help it.."
he picks at his nails, feeling the burning sensation of your eyes on the spot. he guesses his anxiety is really that permeable, and he longs to change the topic. "let's just hope the grades are good, yeah?"
"are you saying you wanna be study buddies?"
"i mean.. that's sort of how our relationship began" one click to your pen, mark tilts his head at the sight of your notebook. it's a simple hardcover, no label, a blank dark shade, yet it seems to carry a large entailing of significance, just like the pen, it has to contain something of an emotional connection to you, maybe, similarly to mark, you form attachments to even the smallest of things.
the use of the word 'relationship' earns a puzzling manner of expression, as if you have to rethink how you two interacted before the establishment of.. your now larger bond.
"that's cute".
you again open your notebook, yet another click to your pen as you begin.. something. mark has never been courageous enough to inquire about it to you, but he assumes there's some length of artistic expression in your personality, or maybe you just really enjoy writing, or you just scribble back and forth. really, mark can't assume what he doesn't know, and maybe you just don't want to divulge such a thing, he doesn't mind.
he simply observes, staring for long enough that you catch sight of it through your peripheral vision. "you'll do well, alright?"
you glance over at him, as if puzzled by the sudden reassurance. mark almost worries that you'll punch him in the face, his mind really needs to stop going down that route. "alright, let's hope you give me your luck".
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MARK IS SURE HE COULD PERFECTLY RECITE EVERY SINGLE printed word in the several textbooks he's been staring at with nothing but pure disgruntlement for these past few days. there's a flurry of muddled information swirling around in his brain, he's afraid he might be taking a history quiz and begin scribbling down the formula of quotient entities. the many trigonometry equations have begun rotting him from the inside out, you've practically been an angel of a study buddy for these past few days, even despite the many whispers you let slip about you sleeping through pretty much all of trigonometry. you have strikingly straight notations, not even a letter out of place, penned compositions littering each page.
he can barely help the upturn of his lips.
"didn't you take trig last year? you're supposed to remember these things".
mark keeps his forehead pressed to the desk, the cool air just barely disturbing him. "trig is pretty much useless, math isn't my strong suit".
your eyebrows furrow. "you still got an a".
mark scoffs. "wow, thanks for supporting me with my endless struggle".
your chuckles now appear much more vibrant, some timidity remains, but it's better than how it all was in september, the change jumps out to mark, you're just so—
"you sound defeated, don't worry mark, you're still honor roll smart".
his heart constricts for a moment, and while he would usually be worried he was experiencing some length of a health risk, he knows it isn't that (but he guesses you could result in a heart attack, you're simply very..), but he can never be too sure.
your handwriting is irritatingly neat, nothing of an observable mistake despite pen clearly being used. is it the same pen? do you keep pens? do you like pens? his intrigue towards you could extend for miles, but he lets it stay inward no matter what.
your eyes gleam with the light of an indescribable entity. "do you.. would you still want to go out to eat on friday?"
mark blinks, contemplating despite the very much known answer. "yeah, i brought it up, if it makes you happy.."
"well you should also think about yourself, if you don't want to go—"
"no, no! i do" mark unfortunately can't arise much excuses for his sudden enthusiasm. he notices the amusement on your own features, but he doesn't make a comment. "besides, we won't see much of each other next week, and then the break will come right after".
winter break is usually its own blessing in mark's eyes, but there's this strange installment of fear this year. he isn't sure the extent your parents go, no signs of anything physical that he can see, yet he worries about you just having to be there for a length of almost two weeks. from what he's observed, school seems to be your only source of escape from whatever goes on at home, and he's aware that a student's safe place being school is typically a bad sign.
but maybe that's too much to just tell you right off the bat, you might think he's crazy, you probably already think he's a little crazy.
"aww, you're gonna miss me".
and mark is unsure of why, but a red hue strikes his formerly vain skin, it's simply mindless teasing, yet he can't help his flustered nature. jesus, he might actually have a heart attack, why did the room suddenly spike in temperature?
if you notice, you make no comment. oh that must've been a good ego boost.
"yeah um.. we've really come a long way since september".
he's sounding a little too sentimental, a break really is nothing, mark guesses donghyuck was right, he does care way too much, even so, he feels it's justified. you stare for a moment, scribbling something in your notebook as your gaze averts. "thanks for not giving up on me, even if i was an unbearable asshole in the beginning".
"don't say that" mark softly chides.
"it's pretty true, you can admit it".
he clears his throat, smile displayed. "so are you gonna come to me friday?"
you nod. "if i don't get caught".
mark doesn't mean to showcase his anxiety in the manner of his expression switch, but hiding his lingering fright has proven him extremely difficult, his mother said it's 'detrimental' to commit such an act.
you tilt your head. "are you okay?"
mark nods much too quickly, rendered somewhat speechless. "fine".
the rest of the day is surprisingly less awkward than he expects.
the week completely exhausts mark, he could probably hang onto his own eye bags at this point. though you feign bright normalcy, it's obvious that you're just as tired, you'll both be wiped out after finals.
yet you seem pretty lighthearted.
"you sure walking is just fine?"
"we could hop the train".
a small frown tugs at mark's lips, but the joke isn't exactly distasteful. "i've never gotten that far" the overcast sky clashes with your dark jacket, it's somewhat of a picturesque image, your best features are explicitly highlighted, even with the shadowed sunlight.
"really? i did once in eighth, the conductor let us off at the middle of nowhere, we got a terrible scolding after that one".
mark's eyebrows furrow, there's a lack of context in that reply, as if you said it to yourself instead of to mark. "us?"
your nose scrunches for a minute. "old foster friend, i used to do everything to get in trouble, he'd tag along for the adventure of it".
"oh".
mark doesn't mean to extend the silence, but talking isn't anything of an accord to you, it's easy to sink into a fit of silence, nothing of a bother.
things appear so young and innocuous outside, sometimes mark believes that nature could be the perfect picture of innocence, if it didn't also harbor an equal opportunity of available danger. he shivers, almost slipping on ice which lays dormant on the floor, no snow yet.
mark wishes he could have not a care in the world, and judging by your circumstances, you clearly do too.
the place is a way's walk, but mark guesses it was good to get in some steps. it appears pretty homely, somewhat aged, the walls are cracked, tiles exposed, and from the captured glimpse of the menus, they're old laminated ones.
you stare with fondness, the smell bringing a sense of warmth to you, as if the place healed your scars. "basically, this place is my home".
"is the food up to par?"
"you don't even have to ask".
mark chuckles, and you can't resist your own corresponding chuckle.
"y/n? is that you?"
at the call of your name you blink, smiling right away. it's an older woman, early fifties probably, her jaw hanging in a manner of recognition. "oh you're so big now!"
"hi mrs. saeng" you don't step away, instead you allow for her to fully embrace you, mark simply observing. "sorry, i know last time i said my next visit would be soon".
"oh it doesn't matter, you're still so adorable!" she squeals as she cups your cheeks, completely rendering you speechless. "and your friend is..?"
"mark" you just barely speak through the squeezing of your cheeks. "he's my classmate".
the woman smiles, a huge, homely smile that strikes comfort mark wasn't exactly expecting. his hands come to clasp in front of him, the typical sweet smile taking over his features. "hi, it's nice to meet you".
she gapes in her spot. "he's even cuter than you! oh my goodness look at his cheeks!"
your nose scrunches up in offense, yet it's clearly feigned. "cuter than me? that's rude to say auntie!"
she crazily fawns before you sit, and as you observe the laminated menus which appear on their last lives, your lips take an upturn, but not at a specific thing, simply at them. "auntie?" he inquires.
you snicker. "there's no relation, she's just an old family friend".
auntie by association, mark guessed that one, he again didn't recognize any sort of relation between you two.
and really, it seems you haven't eaten in a while, mark can't help but observe the tiny things. "did you have breakfast this morning?"
you pause, pretending you are genuinely contemplating something. he's pretty sure you burn your tongue midway through inhaling the bouts of food, yet that seems to be the last of your worries, he can't help the goofy laughter which escapes him at that. "it upsets my stomach".
mark doesn't bother inquiring about lunch, his gaze immediately softening. "you need to make sure you always eat, okay?"
you stare, mark supposes the words appear a bit shallow. sometimes people can barely get out of bed, not even able to roll over to throw off their covers, or fold their blankets, or they find themselves rendered so exhausted that mundane tasks extract so much energy.
but it seems you reply with a soft gaze of your own, radiance carrying your expression. "okay".
mark hums, leaning back in his seat. "so what is this place to you?"
you don't even glance upward. "special spot, it holds good memories, from way before everything that's happened.. well— happened".
"you brought me to your special spot, so i'm special?"
you finally do spare a glance, your smile is one of the prettiest sights ever. "of course".
a smile blossoms over his features, his posture unconsciously straightening. he isn't sure why the news excites him so much, he'll internalize it though.
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WHEN IT GETS TO A CERTAIN POINT, MARK IS UNSURE OF HOW HE LIVES through the week. he has always prided himself on his intelligence, it isn't the topics which perturb him, it's the extent of his own mind. his eyes grow heavier with each passing day, his wrists may have gone limp, but he doesn't pass out just yet, a good record in comparison to last year. it's simply exam after exam after exam, blue pen marks clashing in the visions of his dreams. he can't even close his eyes without seeing muddled geometric equations, he's going to begin reciting them in the startling mumbles midway through one of his sleepwalking episodes. it's a miracle how he makes it through finals week, but he does, possibly no bad markings.
the exams happen to be the least of his issues though, throughout his week, he was mainly stuck on christmas, specifically stuck on christmas gifts, specially stuck on christmas gifts for you.
again, you two only have one double period class together, and the week is full of packet after packet, nothing of a technical interaction going down. the somewhat date-y nature of your restaurant outing comforted him through the piercing manner of trigonometry, he guesses it's pretty funny.
mark's mind reverts back to the many moments of you scribbling with your pen in your notebook, the specific mini sketches you have kept placed beside your trig notations, and it becomes clear what he should get you as a gift.
when the week finally comes to a close, mark is simply glad that he's alive, glad that the information didn't all mix into mush, glad that he got a seemingly perfect gift for you.
"okay, how do you think you did?"
a scrunch of your nose is the opted response, but you don't seem any worried. "it should all be fine, i think all the information seeped into my brain".
the reply draws a chuckle, mark allowing for his head to tip downward. "you're probably the reason i passed, have some faith in yourself".
"hey, you have to give yourself some credit too, you're pretty much a genius".
mark, again, blushes. he doesn't mean for it all to shine through, he simply can't help it. you're much too sweet, even through your whispered compliments, terms shyly spilling from your lips while your head remains downturned.
it's.. cute.
you begin picking at your nails, clearing your throat. mark smiles at you; "thanks, but i really couldn't have done it without you".
you definitely want to argue with that, but your mouth plops shut, your eyes darting away. "i'm so fucking tired".
"maybe you should sleep through this break".
you giggle at that one, eyes seemingly getting heavier. "sleeping is really all i can do anyway",
mark hums, attempting to inconspicuously eye the box he carried all around the day. he pays a few glances between before taking in a huge breath, a breath which you causes the furrow of your brows. "um.. uh— okay, don't freak out".
apparently those words do a lot, as you let out possibly the loudest laugh ever since you two became friends. something about his delivery possibly, the amusement manifests in your movement, much less in your laughter. "are you gonna pull out a gun or something?"
mark frowns, true annoyance in naught. "no, i just have a gift for you and i don't—"
your laughter comes to an immediate stop, head tilting sideways, puzzled. "you.. what?"
mark blanks for a moment, the words disappearing into the air. "christmas is coming up, i uh.. you know we won't see each other during christmas, so i got you something".
you blink, dumbfounded, absolutely staggered, as if the act is terribly unheard of. you almost appear terrified, a callback to the moment where you called mark a weirdo for his regard when your knuckles were aptly split.
you're sending him one of those looks.
"why would you— did you spend your own money why would you do that?"
and there's less of disbelief there, more of guilt, guilt mark can't idly place. you shouldn't feel guilty for anything, yet you seem to. "hey, it's okay, it was all in my own will, just open it".
mark is even more excited than you, sliding the completely totally cynical box over despite your insanely watchful eye. your facial muscles twitch in desperation to display your own enthusiasm, but you somehow keep it at bay.
your fingers twitch. "what is it?"
"that would ruin the surprise".
mark is very impatient, tapping his feet incessantly, fingers again coming to repeat the act in a somewhat similar rhythm. you stare down the box, possibly hoping for it to open itself. he begins getting anxious after a moment, the less than rapid unwrapping keeping a tension in the air.
you seem to want to take your time, as if fearing as creature hidden in the box. mark places his hands in his lap, gazing endlessly.
when you finally pear into it, you again tilt your head, blinking. "holy shit".
mark snickers, that has to be a good one. "yeah".
"how did you— why did you— oh my god.."
it's simple, but mark was aware it would have the desired effect. you stare downward, completely and utterly astonished, you don't expect it, of course you don't, yet the reaction is great for mark.
you're out of words for a moment, so mark decides to take that time; "i sort of observed— i mean.. i figured you liked drawing, art, saw your notebook, saw your sketches, it seemed like the perfect gift to get you".
you blink again, simply pure devotion behind your eyes, as if you were one term from confessing your love to him. it's a art set, a cute kit consisting of colored pencils, markers, and even paintbrushes, it looks.. expensive. "how much..?"
"it doesn't matter" he cuts in, clasping his hands. "i wanted to get you something".
that should be enough.
you seem to struggle with what to say, unable to find the exact words until your lips begin trembling. "thank you, i don't know how to repay you".
"you don't have to".
a frown tugs at your lips, you clearly don't like the sound of that one. "i'll get you a gift of your own after the break, don't worry".
mark's nose scrunches, but he can't argue with you, because he really does want a gift, yearns to see what it may all add up to. he clears his own throat, hands smoothing over his thighs.
"i just wanted to get you something because—"
"i know, thank you".
he can't even help staring in the manner he does, his lips taking an upturn, eyes holding remaining regard he's always known he felt.
"it's nothing".
well, mark guesses it is something, he just has to figure out what something exactly entails.
93 notes · View notes
hoshieeyewrinkles · 9 months ago
Note
Dark wonbin who wants his younger brother's gf or wife. He saw his chance one day and didn't let go of the opportunity
[ Have it all ]
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Trigger warning: cheating, loser Sohee, slight degradation, blowjob.
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"Thank you, you are always so sweet. My doll." He thanked, his gaze sweeping over every inch of your body. You smiled, attempting to push aside the uncomfortable feeling; he is your boyfriend's older brother, for goodness sake; of course, you are like a child to him, which is why he called you his doll in an endearing way, right?
"Where are you going?" He inquired as he set his plate aside after finishing the pasta you prepared for him. You gave him a quick glance as you noticed how close he leaned to you. "Out with sohee" you replied, you had a date planned with sohee who was currently upstairs playing video games while you were here left alone with his older brother.
Wonbin let out a sigh that dripped with fake concern, finishing it off with a chuckle that sounded more like a smirk. "Seriously, you're like an angel,doll" he drawled, voice smooth as butter. "Always picking up his slack, cooking fancy meals he probably doesn't even appreciate, and cheering him on like his personal hype squad when he gets owned in his games. Makes me kinda, y'know, sad for you, sweets." He clicked his tongue and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear in a way that felt more practiced than sweet.
"Don't you deserve better?" His question hung in the air like a loaded question. You gulped, the truth of his words burning a hole in your stomach. He wasn't wrong. You were more like Sohee's mom than his girlfriend, his therapist instead of his partner and sexual pleasure? It was something you never got from Sohee. It was embarrassing to even try having sex with him because he knew nothing, it was pathetic to say the least but you still love him and Sohee loved you, in his own kinda immature way, and sex isn't the only thing which matters right? You can definitely swallow down your frustrations.
"I'll leave now." You tried to sprint upstairs but he held your wrist ''Always so eager to escape, doll'' he drawled, amusement dancing in his eyes. ''Shying away and flushing whenever I'm near... wouldn't anyone mistake it for something more, hmm?'' you were momentarily shook at his audacity before you snapped back, giving him a venomous look "The only one with such delusions is you." Your words caused him to let out a chuckle as he was about to reply, Sohee came downstairs causing you to yank out your wrist from wonbin's grip.
"Baby, I won!" Sohee bounced on the couch, the screen of his phone flashing victory like a miniature lightning storm. You managed a tight smile, your mind churning with the unsettling encounter moments ago. Should you tell him about Wonbin's strange behaviour? Would he believe you? or shrug it off since sohee idolized his handsome brother the most, he always wanted to be like Wonbin. Talking about how he has everyone wrapped around his fingers, no one could ever deny him. He was all it.
"Oh, are we going somewhere?" Sohee asked noticing you dolled up, tilting his head, his eyes sparkling playfully. Your blank stare momentarily dimmed his enthusiasm, but he quickly countered with a wider smile "I guess we are. let me just grab my wallet baby!" Sohee chirped, already bounding up the stairs. His carefree laughter echoed down, each step lighter than a dandelion seed on a summer breeze
Your attention was brought back to Wonbin who let out a mocking chuckle leaning closer to you ear, "Think about what I said," he'd murmured, his breath warm against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. The glint in his eyes, usually full of pride, had held a chilling possessiveness, a stark contrast to his easygoing facade. It was an audacity born of privilege, of a world where his handsome face had always opened doors, the mere flicker of attention from you, his "loser" brother's chosen one, a personal affront to his inflated ego. How dare you look beyond his carefully crafted charm? He deserves to use you for his pleasure not his pathetic brother who can't even get himself to cum.
The entire date with sohee was silencing from your side, you spent most of the time replaying the scenes between you and Wonbin again and again. His sly touches, his longing gazes always did fluster you but you have never thought about having him. He is your boyfriend's brother after all. This was ridiculous of you to even think. He made you uncomfortable and uneasy, that's it.
When you were back from the date, sohee dropped you first at his home, saying he will be back in few minutes as he has some errands to run. You agreed hoping Wonbin isn't in the home currently but you were wrong when you were met with most weird sight ever, he was there sitting on the couch manspreading, his hands pumping his cock furiously as he let out soft moans. The sight had you gasping which caught his attention.
"Back from your little playdate baby?" He asked between his moans. "What the fuck!" You cursed out ready to run out and expose his behaviour to Sohee but instead of that you stood there watching, your feet refusing to move. Why weren't you running? "Come on doll, we all know my brother doesn't deserve you. I know it all."
"He can't even get you to cum, that sweet little pussy of yours deserves to be pleasured, by someone like me." His words had your eyes widened. How did he even know about your private sex life? Did Sohee tell him? Wonbin chuckled at your shocked expression, his hands still jerking off his cock "I know everything baby, let me give you the pleasure which he can never give you." You were supposed to agree or walk up to him but the way your deepest desires took over you. You found yourself on your knees in front of him, his cock deep in your mouth as he let out the nastiest and toe curling moans ever. Pulling on your hair he murmured, "So good, f-fuck. I'll give you twice as much pleasure baby" you rubbed your thighs together to find some relief which didn't go unnoticed by Wonbin who let out a chuckle at your desperation.
"You look so pretty doll, when you are not using your bitchy mouth to defend that little boyfriend of yours, your delicate hands look so pretty wrapped around my cock. I always knew you were a little slut inside, what will Sohee think? Have him watch us? Teach him one or two things, yeah?" His words caused to whimper on his cock as you felt your cheeks flush in humiliation. Wonbin gave a devilish grin feeling satisfied that he tore your walls down, he knew it, everyone deserves some good fucking and you were no better, After all who could ever deny him? He is the one with everything his brother lacks. He knew you were just pretending to be loyal to his loser brother, pretending to just love him, when he could not even pleasure your little pussy. Speaking of him-
"H-Hyung?"
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liquorisce · 7 months ago
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Do you have any eremika age gap au recs?? It’s my favorite trope and there’s nearly not enough fics out there😭😭😭
*rubs hands* I took my time with this because I am not the most avid fic reader unfortunately, but I do have a few recs and some more on my tbr. I think what you're looking for is not just an age difference but where the age gap is the focus? i've marked those in pink. definitely check the tags on these before proceeding!!
gonna start with mine just for completeness, and also because i love it *blush*
boy next door: For sixteen years, Mikasa has watched the boy next door. First: through the eyes of a child, hand in his during family trips, his hand on her first bike when she learned how to ride. Then: through the eyes of a teenager, peeking behind her blinds into his room on hot summer months when he didn't wear a shirt, eyes lingering on his lips when he pulled away his cigarette. Now, she is so much older, but he is older still, and the gap between them feels ever widening. But her desire to close it only feels more desperate.
i'm certain you've checked out @herblacktights 's ao3, but here are my favs of hers with that age gap sauce:
degausser: After a deadly flu pandemic that devastates Paradis Island and the rest of the world, Eren is all Mikasa has. After she turns sixteen, that gets complicated. -> the plot is entirely the age gap, lol!
comfort me: “Mikasa,” Eren drawled, fake scolding edging into his voice as he held the basement door open and led her outside. “Does Aunt Carla know what a bad girl you are?” For a moment, she looked stunned. A sliver of a second, a wink of an eye. Looking every inch the little girl he watched grow up, who he knew deserved better than him. But before it could take root in her and make him regret what he said, Mikasa gave him a terrible, sweet smile. “Aunt Carla says I deserve to do whatever I want after the year I’ve had,” she said and from the way that she was looking at him, he should’ve known it was a threat. cw: mild daddy kink!
love dog : this one is a bit different! teacher mikasa x student eren, and mikasa is the older one. cw: it doesn't exactly have a super happy ending. but it is one of my favs from hannah!!
Butterfly effect by @sunlightandsuffering : Sugar baby AU - older hobo eren x younger mikasa. how can i say this... it's the OG, the most delicious, lys-brand chaotic eremika but age gap flavour! i love it, i'm sure if you've been around this block you've read it lol, but it's simply amazing, read it again!!
You, me and our sins by @loneghostss : Eren is married and Mikasa has a boyfriend. But the fact that they both have someone doesn't stop them from sinfully falling in love with each other. (it is about eremika having an affair with each other and it is so sensual and hot, age gap is not central here but it definitely brings heat!!) you could also check out lost saints by the same author, there's also some age difference and great smut.
@dead-dolphins is a connoisseur of the age gap trope, defs check out all the aus on her pinned post!! ro is a master of drama and worldbuilding so her fics are always a treat. she's got some on ao3 that are all about that sweet age gap <3
chemical hype boy : idol mikasa x actor eren!! and eren is definitely playing into the older established actor mold!
i apologise if you feel something: Goth mikasa gets involved with older Eren, lead vocalist of a metal band.
the promised princess: a medieval fantasy au inspired by got. age difference is not the central theme, but it's a stellar fic regardless.
straight/edge by @sinigangsta-ao3: Mikasa Ackerman is prim, proper, and perfect. As the golden child of the Ackerman family, her academic achievements set her up for a bright future and atone for her older brother’s past mistakes. When the spring semester of her junior year arrives, she crosses paths with a local boy toward whom she’d typically never give the time of day — and they begin a whirlwind relationship that unlocks parts of herself that she didn’t know she kept hidden. this fic is more about the good girl x bad boy trope but with that delicious 3-4 year age gap sauce!! cw: NOT a hea
devilish lovers by softwinter: “I wanna be your friend, Mikasa,” he told her one day when she got home from school not able to feign a less distressed expression on her face, too many sixteen-year-old problems going on in her life. He had the habit of commenting that she was always sad, that he didn’t like how that transpired on her gray eyes.
“I thought you wanted to be my daddy,” something flashed in his eyes right then, like she’d said something forbidden, a kind of thing that could make her a bad girl in his eyes. cw: step dad kink!! definitely check the tags before proceeding.
heaven knows by @joannaofarkham: priest au where priest eren is mikasa's teacher in a catholic school. it is unfinished but the first chapter reads pretty well standalone!
eternally yours by @cxcassii: reincarnation au + age gap. It's been 2,000 years since Eren Jaeger was a titan shifter and unleashed the blood drenched madness of the rumbling upon the world. Now, in the year 2023, he's a twenty-four year old who lives with his best friend Armin. He goes about his days working as a pharmacy technician all while attempting to cope and come to terms with the loss of the loved ones he still remembers with clarity from his previous life. The atrocious sins of his past life he can never ever truly atone for. But most of all, there's one person he simply can't forget: His former love of his life, Mikasa. It's when he's not actively searching for her that they cross paths once again, and their love will once again be on trial when Eren learns that Mikasa not only doesn't remember their past life together, but is also seventeen years old. this one is still on my tbr but whatever i've read so far looks extremely delicious!!!
enjoy!! if anyone wants to add more please feel free to reblog and improve this list!! <3
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theaquamarinearchives · 7 months ago
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[ a day in the sun ― albedo & kafka ] "happy birthday, my love. may the sun shine in the sky only for you on this day - shall we take a walk?"cw. gn!reader, fluff, modern!au, established relationships, reader wears dresses, petnames (dear, baby), just some sickly sweet fluff overall, ooc kafka
aquamarine's findings. happy birthday to my dearest little dove, @heiayen !! i hope this day proves to be fruitful and kind to you. you deserve the world !! ♡
with the sun shining bright in a seemingly endless blue sky and spring in full bloom, ALBEDO had plenty of ideas for this special day - it was just his hardest decision deciding which one to go with or even more so, creating an itinerary just for you. unfortunately for him the moment klee had found it your birthday was approaching, she begged him to let her in on the plans. you truly are adored by that small girl.
your toes sink into fine grains of sand, warm beneath your steps with two blondes at your side. one is bouncing, her small hand grasping yours as she tries to tug you along the length of the beach. in her spare hand is a melting ice lolly you wish she would pay a few seconds more attention to now that it's starting to drip down her hand.
the other blond somehow can't contain the small smile on his face as he watches the pair of you, the way you're laughing and yet still sending worried glances at klee's ice lolly. he can imagine the sticky mess that she's going to create the moment she reaches for something - or someone - with that hand later.
"klee, give them a break or you'll hurt their arm," your lover tries to reason with the excited child who - at the prospect of hurting you - quickly lets go of your hand to run ahead, squealing as she kicks up sand, "are you okay, dear? she can be overwhelming."
"how often do you bring her to the beach? she acts like she's never seen it in her life." you find yourself musing as the young girl crouches down to inspect something. your curiosity peeks, wandering to crouch with her as you tilt your head. albedo watches the pair of you in intrigue, the way you are both tilting your heads like confused puppies.
albedo refrains from attempting to defend his little sister's overexcited actions and instead peers to see what has got the two of you in awe. a pile of neatly collected seashells in an array of shapes and colours, embedded into the sand. klee gasps, a chubby finger pointed at a particular pastel purple seashell and you also let out an excited noise - albeit a little quiet.
his blue eyes soften, that small smile from earlier widening on his face as mid-length blond locks tickle his eyelashes, the sea breeze drifting through them and creating an even more messy appearance. no matter how long he's been dating you, he can't seem to stop admiring you. his eyes dance over how the breeze carries your hair and the pretty summer dress you decided to wear for today, how your jewellery compliments every aspect of your outfit... how did he get so lucky?
he almost chuckles at his thoughts, his cheeks warming considerably and he wonders if he could blame the weather should klee's keen eyes notice. the artist is undeniably in love with you, after all you're the source material of a lot of his works now. he's familiar with your every crevice and detail, familiar with painting them delicately onto his canvas.
he wouldn't change that for the world when your sparkling eyes return to him, a happy smile on his face as you hold up a seashell to him, exclaiming excitedly as you fawn over something so simple and yet so treasurable.
you knew very well how your girlfriend's job worked and whilst you never interfered, you wished sometimes that she could spare you a glimpse of time outside of what her boss' 'scripts' leave you with. that's not to say she was a bad partner - oh no. regardless of that slightly insufferable teasing attitude she has, the one she always brings to the table in a light-hearted manner, you knew KAFKA loved you. perhaps more than she's willing to convey with words.
kafka follows her scripts intricately, never missing a detail right up until the last second. these control her days, creating schedules upon schedules she's never faltered to argue against nor break the habit. yet she fails to tell you that in the days leading up to your birthday, she'd been very much planning to do just that.
"you look beautiful," she chimes when you enter the lounge, pausing in your steps when your eyes meet hers. she quirks a brow, amused by the way your eyes widen in surprise, "what is it, baby?"
you squint, hesitant to approach your girlfriend - what did she have in mind? what was going on? usually at this hour, the shared house you live in together was filled with the melodic sounds of kafka's classical music and in turn, her own violin. slowly, your confusion regarding the silence of the house settles in as to why your girlfriend was here and not in her study.
"did you forget your own birthday?" kafka raises to her feet, shaking her head as a light laugh escapes her lips, "oh dear, we can't be having that - definitely not today."
the woman saunters closer to you, slim hands drifting over the curves of your body in that sundress as she smiles coyly, eyes glinting in the reflection of the sun through the open window. there was never any telling what your girlfriend had planned, with the woman being exceptional at keeping her schemes concealed and hidden safely in her mind. oh, how you'd pay to be inside her mind for a mere day.
"of course i didn't," you pout, awkwardly avoiding her gaze as she presses her forehead to yours. her hands settle on your hips, a hum coming from her chest as she examines your behaviour, "you're not-"
"in my study?" she cuts you off, finishing off your thoughts as your eyes snap up to meet hers again. they're glittering, filled with mirth and amusement as her fingers tap at your hips, shaking her head before she presses a soft kiss to your lips. it's demanding despite how soft it is, her grip on your waist tightening if only for a few seconds.
when you pull away for a moment of air, kafka hums yet again and straightens up, taking hold of your hand in her gloved one. the feel of leather sends a shiver down your spine, contrasting to the cared-for hands beneath them. the ones you knew were very much soft, gentle, smooth - and they knew your body equally as much, every inch and fibre of your being.
"the sun's out and i intend to spend this day in it - with you so come on. we're going on a walk and later you can choose dinner. today, elio's scripts are off the table."
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the archives' notifications. @bisexuawolfsalt, @lovingluxury, @auroratumbles, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @soleillunne
@zamorazz, @zworllyx
© theaquamarinearchives 2024 ; reblogs appreciated. do not re-upload, translate, etc. my works on any platforms or feed any of my works to ai.
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marchyfrommars · 10 days ago
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Supernatural (2005-2020)
The Winchester Brothers’ Never-Ending Road Trip
So, you’ve heard about Supernatural, huh? The show that ran for 15 years, outlived several CW presidents and survived cast exhaustion. Strap in, because here’s the rundown of this legendary rollercoaster of a series.
Plot? Who Needs Plot When You’ve Got… More Plot. The premise is simple: Two ridiculously attractive brothers, Sam (Hair Goals) Winchester and Dean (I Eat Pie Like It’s My Job) Winchester, drive around in a sweet 1967 Chevy Impala hunting ghosts, demons, and things that go bump in the night. Sounds straightforward, right? Oh, you sweet summer child. By Season 15, they’re fighting God. Yes, the capital-G guy upstairs. And it totally makes sense… somehow.
The Bromance: Sam and Dean’s relationship is the emotional core of the show. One minute, they’re yelling, “You lied to me!” The next, they’re hugging and dramatically saying, “We’re all we’ve got.” Family therapy, who?
Monsters Galore: If it exists in folklore, Supernatural has hunted it. Vampires? Yep. Werewolves? Sure. Killer clowns? Obviously. That creepy thing you thought lived under your bed as a kid? Oh, that was definitely a Supernatural episode.
Humor That Slaps: The show knows it’s ridiculous and leans into it. Highlights include: Dean thinking he’s a literal dog for an episode. ("Look at my face. Do I look like I’m joking?"). A black-and-white monster movie tribute complete with campy Dracula. Sam getting possessed by a demon and going on a coffee bender (no one has ever looked happier about caffeine).
Guest Stars from Heaven (and Hell): Castiel, the socially awkward angel who doesn’t understand personal space, steals every scene he’s in(and we LOVE him). Crowley, the snarky demon king, delivers sass like he’s on a Bravo reality show. And let’s not forget Bobby Singer, the grumpy surrogate dad who made “Idjits” an iconic insult.
Fake Deaths Galore: If you got a dollar every time a Winchester died and came back, you’d have enough cash to buy your own haunted mansion. Death is basically their vacation spot.
The Apocalypse, Again?: By the time the third apocalypse rolls around, you’re like, “Can someone else save the world for once? The Avengers, maybe?”
Overtime Issues: Around Season 11, you might feel like the writers are spinning a roulette wheel labeled “Heaven,” “Hell,” and “Another Monster with Daddy Issues.” But you stick around, because you’re too invested in the Impala’s gas mileage at this point.
The Legacy, fifteen years later, Supernatural left us with:
- A lifetime’s worth of classic rock songs stuck in our heads.
- Enough fan theories to fill an actual Bible.
- Destiel.
- A devoted fandom ready to argue whether Dean deserved that ending (spoiler: no pie in heaven?! Blasphemy!).
It’s not perfect—plot holes so big you could drive Baby through them—but it’s heartfelt, funny, and ridiculously addictive. Watching Supernatural is like hanging out with chaotic friends who always have a crazy story: you roll your eyes at their antics but wouldn’t miss it for the world.
And since it is my favourite series, of course I would recommend. But remember, when someone says, “It’s just one more episode,” they’re lying. You’ll be watching until you’re humming "Carry On Wayward Son" in your sleep.
The fullest Full Moon you’ll ever see 5/5 🌕
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annacory-blog · 3 months ago
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Dance or die
I fell in love with another fic by @ulysses000 and then Spotify provided me with a perfect song. I had to draw them to exorcise that image from my head.
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As per tradition - below is my attempt in translation. I want to make complete translation so badly (this is probably one third)! I believe this story deserves more attention. But can some kind English speaker confirm it is readable???
Love this fic specially from WoD perspective, it cultivates such delicious feeling of emptiness. And while technically, it has a happy end, you can not get rid of bitter taste of loss. Their requiem is not life, and there no way back. All is gone!
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Music stops abruptly. The dancefloor is silent, mob looks around in bewilderment. All eyes are focused on a flimsy, dirty stage. There, litten by sophites, stands brunette, cladded in a black robe. Calmly she re-adjusts many necklaces and bracelets, adorning her bosom and wrists. She checks microphone, softly tapping it with elegant finger, nonplussed by screeching sound it makes or the yells thrown her way from down the stage. For a while she silently stares in the drunk faces below, until eventually rowdy voices are reduced to quiet, unhappy mumble in the back rows.
-"What would you like to say, before the end of the world?"
-"Go fuck yourself!" - someone yells back from the crowd. Brunette’s smiles softly. Her blue eyes sparkle. This sight will be their last before headless body collapses to the floor.
View from the stage is absolutely terrific. It reminds of a late spring evening in the mansion by the sea. Bodies sway in panic, almost as grass would in a lush fields. Writings on the wall glitter with red as if they were remnants of the sunset caught in clouds. Screams - voices of seagulls. Sweet aroma that spreads across the room reminds of freshly brewed Irish coffee. Eyes locked on the bright fountains. Droplets shimmer in the air with a multitude of colour. Content. Do not argue with Mother. It is a simple rule every kid should know. Because, no matter how kind, gentle and understanding Mother is, she is not all sweets and praises. She also has an iron glove to treat the unruly child. Anyone who dares to confront her will surely drown in their own blood.
-"Now, dance or die."
Music never heard in this walls engulfs space. Stirring voice of the violin is echoed by screams, cello is perfectly complimented by heart-rending howls. Robin is not at all surprised by this harmony of cries and choir chanting. Clocks have just reached zero and this means, time for celebration has finally come. Perfect night to forge a timeless bond between the beloved child and the dear friend. Trafalgar stands on the stage, as if he always was there. Pity no one minds what is happening in the spotlight. He looks tidier than usual, ceremonial. Shirt, tie, three piece suit, shoes - all in various shades of black, all fitted perfectly. His gaze briefly stops on the couple of cadavers lying by the stage, then moves to the brunette.
-"Playing with food, aren’t we?"
-"Tarao, symbolism never was one of your strengths." - She smiles softly and shakes her head, - "Don’t try to grasp, what is beyond you. Just think of it as a cog in the well oiled machine."
Flowers on wreath along the walls move, as if troubled by the gust of wind, candle lights flicker, and blond man appears by Robin’s side. Sanji fiddles with the hem of his suit anxiously, fixes invisible wrinkles on the bouquet wrap. Trafalgar thought he put more than enough efforts to look decent tonight, however he wouldn’t stand a chance if this was a competition. Sanji's clan has been know for this aura of perfection, but even among his kin - he is special. Where the rest emmit light of the full moon, Sanji’s light would blind you as hot summer sun in zenith. He holds ten white roses - stark contract against his black suit. Pale of petals resonates with pale of the skin, highlights the gold of his hair. Trafalgar cannot possibly look away and no disciplines are to blame for this magic. Little smile slips from under his control “this is beautiful” he thinks.
-"Sorry for being late" - blond tuck one long golden lock behind the ear. Eyes drift towards the dance floor, but do not linger there. Woman chuckles softly - so innocent.
-"I was worried you made your escape."
-"Please, don’t ruin the moment" - gaze of his blue eyes seems to be glued to the wooden planks of the stage, then he looks up, eyes meet with Robin’s.
They nod, almost simultaneously, and only after Sanji musters enough of courage to look to the other man. His gaze shamelessly devours all the minute details he can grasp, it is hard to tell, if he desperately tries to avert attention from the bloodbath on the dance floor, or genuinely admires the sight. Trafalgar thinks he would be happy with both reasonings. Laws lips move soundlessly forming few words. Sanji chuckles and replies in the same manner: “you too, idiot”.
-"Ladies and Gentlemen." - maybe a dozen of eyes flicker back in response to sweet, calm voice of the woman. Short break taken from tormenting the flesh, generously soaked with blood and tears. Bodies contort with the fear for their life. - "Tonight, before the Dark Mother’s eyes, souls of two cursed sons of hers will be united. Every kindred present here shall witness the making of endless, mutual death." - her eyes run across the dance floor, reading the mood of the guests. - "the Vinculum should not be broken. Anyone who dares an attempt to weaken the bond will be hunted by The Circle of the Crone," - she looks for a moment into particularly dark corner - "as well as by our brothers and sisters from Ordo Dracul."
Her gaze shifts to the dark haired man, waiting for him to return the attention.
-"Now you can speak your vows."
Trafalgar makes a step forward, reaches to touch cold pale fingers, swallows heavily before he starts to speak.
-"I, Trafalgar D Water Law, hereby take Vinsmoke Sanji into my Requiem forever." - envelops his hand gently and carefully - "I swear before all that is holy and all that is unholy that we, tonight, seal our fates by bonds of dedication and honor. When my partner is hungry, I will bring food." - Sanji chuckles quite and bright - "When my partner sleeps, I will watch and bear witness upon waking." - He squints, eyes slit, as if targeted by bright lamp. - "When my partner is afraid, I will give comfort, and when my partner is wronged, I will have vengeance." - Cool fingers caress back side of the hand. - "This I swear on the blood, and the flame and the spirit."
In his blue eyes flashing light reflects, candles burning twice as bright with the last spoken words. Law squises cold hand, trying to reassure, give comfort, prevent flashes from setting kindred's mind aflame.
-"I, Vinsmoke Sanji, hereby take Trafalgar D Water Law into my Requiem forever." - his voice sweetest thing that ever touched ears, in both life and un-life, - "I swear before all that is holy and all that is unholy that we, tonight, seal our fates by bonds of dedication and honor." - His fleeting touch playfully skims through tan fingers, icy sensation brings sober clarity and bliss of inebriation at the same time. - "When my partner is hungry, I will bring food." - Law’s smile is barely there. - "When my partner sleeps, I will watch and bear witness upon waking. When my partner is afraid, I will give comfort," - he is the most gentle and kindhearted, so much is obvious in every syllable of every word. - "And when my partner is wronged, I will have vengeance. This I swear on the blood, and the flame and the spirit."
Sanji’s hold on the hand gets firmer as he expects another rise of firy glow to radiate the room. Little girl steps forward from behind the stage, she is silent and obedient. So small, seven years at most, her deep chocolate eyes glazed with indifference, strawberry blond hair braided in two pig tales, white gown hugs fragile figure. She stares ahead absently, woman’s hands leading her by shoulders.
-"Time to make the sacrifice." - hand outstretched to pass the ritual knife. Fingers gently support ragged blade.
Trafalgar feels how kindred’s claws pierce his skin. He might have broken few bones, if older wouldn’t strengthen his grip in response. It is heard for Sanji. This is easily seen, his eyes shift frantically, his lips stripped of smile and crooked. Even his touch feels colder than before. He never have taken the life of a sentient being. Even in death Sanji remained pure, his hands and soul unmarred by murder of mortals. Law knows other is hurting, in his eyes this child is seen as a spit image of the older sister. Trafalgar himself lost in the shattered memories for a moment. Girl reminds his late sister, who died too young too long ago. Despite that he knows he will have enough resolve to put this innocent child to rest, as she obediently waits for her own demise.
This is essential part for the completion of the ritual. Sanji knows it. This is not news, but he can’t keep his long dead heart from burning and spasming disgusted by creeping acceptance. He was the one who proposed marriage. He organized most of the celebration. He thought about it many times, about this particular moment he has to take someone’s life, scenario played in his head on repeat. But it is not something you can be prepared for. This is wedding. They are about to enter mutual un-life, their souls are to be bound for the eternal death, forfeiting innocence, killing personification of their past. Together.
His hand is shaking, but Sanji hides it, only grip on the hilt gets stronger. Her face is gentle and soft, with neat childish features, but her eyes are dead already, trapped under Mother’s hypnotic influence. Embroidery on the gown matches hair colour. She looks like a little princess. Sanji forgets to imitate the leaving, his thorax freezes mid inhale, mechanical movement abandoned. He thought he would be able to do it, to confront the past, to kill for the sake of something new, for the sake of future. But this first step is terrifying. All his being is trapped, Staring in the eyes of the Beast, unable to move. Sanji doesn’t want to lose his humanity, he is afraid to slip, to get comfortable with the idea of supremacy over humans, his own strength, his right to take life. Few months in his death, as soon as fog of newly obtained supernatural powers thinned, allowing him to think clearly again, he made a decision to give his all to keep whatever “human” have left in this damned shell of the body. Once he got accustomed with business run by The Circle of the Crone, he found plenty of friends in each and every city morgues and knew without failure when fresh carcasses were delivered to local butcheries. When ritual required freshly drawn blood he used his own vite with no second thought. And now all workarounds are closed, blocked by unmovable boulders. Only one way ahead.
-"We are both dead. It’s not going to get any worse." His whisper is scolding hot against the skin, it reminds to expand lungs, air forced in with fake inhale. Warm palm touches softly, fingers carefully wrap around the hand that holds the hilt, the touch reassures, hand redirected slightly - outward and up.
-"Beheading is better."
For once Sanji is genuinely grateful that Trafalgar never listens and reads his thoughts at any given moment. -"One." He angles cutting edge . -"Two." Skin is burning hot -"Three." Thud. Mortal dread frozen in the eyes of the dead girl.
_________________________
And song that was a catalyst for all the efforts
youtube
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iitodoiidas · 2 months ago
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got a bit of time tonight, so i want to ramble about my boy Iida Tenya, and my own thoughts and feelings about the manga's ending.
this is long, LONG, and rambly and perhaps filled with grammatically incorrect sentences, and i dislike capitalization, so click read more at your peril!!!!
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as an Iida fan, the ending of the manga is a huge, HUGE let down. i'm actually expecting to be disappointed tbh, with the slow and steady pushing of Iida as a character off to the side to make way for the Midoriya-Bakugou-Todoroki power trio.
and you know, i get it! thematically, they are the inheritors of All Might and his spirit of Heroism. and they deserve the spotlight too, given how much they grew as characters vs the start of the story.
(((
i'm not a big Bakugou fan (tho i find him v funny at times, like how you'd find a rabid racoon funny) , but his character arc is very satisfying for me as a reader. love that even in the end he's still a lil shit ahha! but the way he initiated and funded the whole armor thing for Midoriya means he's still trying to atone for all the shit he did in their past. which! good on him tbh.
Todoroki, my sweet summer child, has been abused physically, and emotionally suffered enough all his life, and i'm so glad he's on the path of healing now, and also away from his dad's shadow too.
Midoriya… hmm, personally, i would have preferred for him to have remained a teacher instead of going back to heroics. it would have been a great call back to the original premise of the story that questions "can a boy with no super power become a hero too?", because the answer will be "yes!" because you know damn well he'll be looked up to by every class he handles. and given his expertise upon analyzing quirks, think of how valuable his battle advice and tactics must be, especially to kids who are just beginning to understand their quirks!
generations of student heroes, learning from his battle/fight strategies, his ideals on heroism, and most importantly his kindness and desire to help people, and then putting those values in practice in the real world. wouldn't that be a great way on how you begin to establish a truly peaceful society?
)))
but… Iida. i think... Iida's been left behind by the story by the end of it.
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i almost didn't include this pic bc it offends me so much. like why is my boy banished off to the corner!? HE DESERVES A SPOT ON THAT COUCH TOO GDI!!
bias aside, you cannot tell me that Iida's contribution to story isn't IMMENSE. he is very much essential to Midoriya's growth as a hero and Todoroki's path to healing (and Bakugou's... as a classmate and a non-dear friend lmaoooo) that neither would be possible without Iida's presence and influence.
Iida (and Uraraka) being the first to offer friendship to a very insecure Midoriya, and how important Iida reaching out his hand again to Midoriya was again later on when Midoriya needed help the most; Iida reminding Todoroki of himself when Iida's going down a dark and dangerous path away from his ideals, saving him, and then being saved in turn, because of how well they relate to and understand each other. Iida being the foundation of their entire class, the way he's offered steadfast support to every one of them.
just... sighhhhh...... we didn't even hear his graduation speech as a senior? i like Mirio well enough, and i also get that the war's just happened before they graduated which is a bummer sure and that needs to be addressed, but i feel like we also deserve parting words from OUR student representative. it would have been a nice send off too to the Class A as we know them, by having their class president acknowledge their efforts and hard work.
and then... the timeskip.
---
sighhhhhhh.................
ok i'll get to timeskip Iida later.
i've mentioned before how utterly wasteful i find it that Hori didn't flesh out the Iida family, as a foil against the Todoroki's.
like you have these boys from two families, similarly deeply rooted in the hero culture but with such highly contrasting upbringing. on one hand you have the Todoroki's, led by the no. 2 hero of all of Japan, who bc of ambition, had abused and traumatized all members of his small, nuclear family. and on the other, a multi-generational family of heroes, not high enough in the rankings, but successful enough to be known and respected by most of the population (also they're def super loaded too, like they have a damn BUILDING with their signature hero name!!!)
Tensei's presence in the story was underutilized too. here you have a well-known, well-liked hero who was established to have a team of sidekicks who work well together (as per Vigilantes). how interesting it would have been to have Tensei (and the Iida fam) to appear again in the story just as the hero society is collapsing? this family who made it their identity and business to help and save people as quickly and efficiently as possible? like... how could they have dealt with the fallout of the common people no longer trusting them and being actively hostile against known heroes?
knowing what we do about Tensei though, i doubt this will stop him. he'll for sure still be trying to help out people in need, even if he's already retired and while wheelchair-bound. which i also think is super unfair btw like we have Mirko with her super cool prosthetics, why can't Tensei have robot-assisted legs too??? and that's considering the Iida family who seem to primarily have mobility/tech hybrid based quirks, for sure they must have a team of tech experts specializing on mobility on hand as well????
imagine Tensei calling Tenya up one day saying he's got a surprise for his bb bro! and Tenya comes over all curious and stuff, and then Tensei greets him standing up with prosthetics, with a design that is inspired by Tenya's own leg-Engine quirk. then Tensei goes to explain that even if Tenya keeps saying that Tensei is his hero, Tensei would also like to declare that the new Ingenium is his hero, whom he'd like to honor with the design, and that someone he'd hope to work with in the future, even as a civilian background support. and in a few moments after that sinks in, Tenya will just bawl his eyes out (and then Tensei joins in in a bit bc let's be real these brothers adore each other v much)
and also..... i keep thinking what a reunion it would have been if Stain himself could have witnessed that "altruism" is well and truly alive, not only from the younger, but also from the elder Ingenium, both of whom he'd failed to kill?
siggggghhhhhhhh......
---
anyways, back to Iida Tenya. (i'll use Tenya now to refer to him, since i'll also mention Tensei a lot.)
i mentioned Tensei and the Iida fam first, bc somehow i thought we'd see a glimpse of them again before the manga ends. like an acknowledgement that Tenya had indeed proven himself worthy of the Ingenium name. wishful thinking, considering Inko (main character's mom!!!!!!) wasn't even given the chance to comfort and acknowledge her son (the main character!!!!!) as a hero as to what he has gone through to save their whole society!
anyways, so the last we see of Tenya, he's working with others, touring elementary schools, and spreading awareness and expanding quirk counseling headed by Uraraka. it's a noble pursuit yes, and beneficial too, if it could help kids with misunderstood quirks like Toga. but i can't help but feel Tenya's talents and skills could have been better put elsewhere.
like... rebuilding the Team IdaTen for example.
now, everything from this point on is all wishful thinking on my part, as an Iida Tenya fan who loves his character and story arc, and thinks he deserves a better ending.
Team IdaTen, as per Vigilantes manga, comprises of Sidekicks working under Ingenium, and their credo is (not verbatim, sorry) "to come to people's aid as quickly as possible". And this is a credo that Tenya has taken to heart, and is the core of his heroism. As the inheritor of the Ingenium name, isn't it a logical conclusion to have him step up as the new leader of the team?
in an Iida-led manga, maybe Tenya's challenge for this is how to prove himself as a capable leader amongst his brother's veteran Sidekicks. For sure they already know Tenya as their former leader's baby brother, but how about as a leader? maybe some of them won't be able accept Tenya as a replacement, being too loyal or different from his older brother.
or... is there stil even Team IdaTen? maybe many of them quit when Tensei retired, maybe some got disillusioned and quit too during the collapse of hero society. and for sure many of them also died or got injured during the war.
Tenya's goal could be to search and recruit his own Team IdaTen, a team which specializes as first responders. like if there's any disaster or accident, you'd be sure Team IdaTen is first on the scene!! they'd be helping who they can, and relay info to other responding heroes and other pros.
hmmm..... maybe that can explain Tenya's presence in Uraraka's advocacy to improve the quirk counseling? maybe he's recruiting potential, future Team IdaTen members. he'd be on the look out for speed-based, or mobility-based quirks, but would also be welcoming of other types for sure! the only important thing is their desire to help people and that they agree to the Ingenium credo, which is saving people takes priority out of everything.
and yknow, maybe this is also his way to help curb Vigilantism, which is another problematic issue in a hero society, and help set people on a more lawful path into becoming proper heroes. like how Tensei tried to recruit Koichi after seeing his potential and desire to help without having the means. it would have been a great callback to the values Tensei had inspired on Tenya, which he would then be able to pass on to a new set of heroes/sidekicks he'd lead as a team.
siiighhhhhhh.......
okk i'm running out of steam now. i will just continue being sad over Iida's wasted storylines for the foreseeable future. ( ; ^ ; ) </3
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jellyfitzjelly · 5 months ago
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Please do write that fanfic of Ruyi and Ling Yunche. Both of them deserve the whole world 😭
Anon sorry for leaving you hanging I swear I am working on it! It's an AU where Ruyi marries Yunche instead of Hongli! Here is the beginning of my fic! I might actually post it as a standalone... Under a cut because it's long lol.
Ling Yunche looks between the doors of the Cold Palace every night when he’s on duty, and watches the fairy crying in the moonlight. She reminds him of the beautiful and tragic fox demon of his hometown’s folk song, condemned to cry forever under the moon with no possibility to join her human lover in the underworld. He misses his village so much. The capital is big and foreign to him, and the palace is a whole world contained within high red walls. He is blessed to have his sweetheart and his childhood friend here with him. They form Yunche’s own world, a cocoon of familiarity and warmth.
The beautiful, sorrowful girl looks terribly lonely in comparison.
He hears the other guards talk about her. She’s an Ula-Nara, the precious daughter of a powerful Manchu family now fallen. Her aunt was the lofty empress of the Forbidden City, but she is now locked away in her palace and disgraced. They say the favorite son of the Emperor wanted to marry her, courting his parents’ wrath. The Emperor was so enraged he ordered to have her thrown in the Cold Palace, even though she does not belong here. Yunche finds her lover a very weak man. Who wouldn’t feel chivalrous looking at that delicate face? And yet he lets her rot here, bending like tall weed in the wind to his parents’ will and marrying the women they have prepared for him. He should have eloped with her, he reasons, and escaped the capital. She must be heartbroken to have placed her love in such a fickle man. He always makes a prayer for her to find a better man, though he grimly knows that beautiful women have tragic fates more often than not. His Yanwan is certainly not as beautiful as this fairy, but she is his and she sings like a goddess. They have loved each other since they could remember. Her father was a joyous though incompetent man, spoiling her rotten when he was still alive. Yunche chases away the memories, not wishing to start thinking of his own parents, buried in his hometown. He has grown up a wild child with no parents to love him. But one day, he promises himself, he shall have a family again.
If the heavens have eyes, they will grant this beautiful girl a family too.
He watches her every night, hearing her quiet sobs. This time though, she turns around and in the semi-darkness, the moonlight is reflected in her eyes like precious jewels. Yunche should do the sensible thing and close the doors lest the girl starts screaming, but his hands refuse to obey him. The fairy approaches him slowly, the simplicity of her attire highlighting the porcelain of her skin and the delicate features of her face. It is as if the statue of a goddess had suddenly gained a life of its own.
“Who is this?” the beauty calls quietly.
“I am Ling Yunche, guard of the Cold Palace!” he whispers back. “And you, beautiful fairy, who are you?”
She looks at him, blinking in obvious surprise. He wants to smash his forehead against the heavy doors, cursing his foolishness.
“Beautiful fairy?” she repeats, confused, her brows furrowing.
“Oh, forgive me! You must be a ghost, rather than a fairy,” he jests to hide his mortification.
Her chuckle is a delightful sound, and her smile is as sweet as honey and as bright as the sun in summer. What possessed her man to abandon her?
“I am Ula-Nara Qinying, daughter of Naerbu.”
“So it is true? You are the woman the fourth prince wanted to marry?”
He sees her face contorts in hurt, and he curses himself once again for his blunder.
“Hey,” he continues, eager not to leave her with a dreadful impression of him, “if you need anything, call for me. I shall do what I can.”
“Thank you, Ling Yunche,” she smiles.
After that they speak leisurely when he is on duty at night, and familiarity has yet to succeed in making her startling beauty fade. He shares his cheap wine with her, and tries to make her laugh. She must be a fairy in disguise, he muses. She loves music and poetry, though she cannot dance; she loves to embroider swallows on her younger sister’s handkerchiefs; she likes to look at the moon when it is full. He never knew such a woman existed. Regularly he wonders how unlucky she is to have given her heart to such an ungrateful man. He never visits her, nor enquires after her. He lives his luxurious life, and has forgotten his sweetheart.
Finally, she is allowed to go back to her parents. She still looks heartbroken, but she gives him a smile as she thanks him for taking care of her. He does not see her again, though he regularly dreams of the fairy sobbing under the moonlight.
Yunche is promoted a week later, and he tells himself that perhaps her man is not so much of a cad as he believed him to be.
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notsoattractivearenti · 2 years ago
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Wherever You Are (Mason Mount x Reader)
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Song Inspo: Wherever You Are - 5 Seconds of Summer (I recommend you to listen to the song while reading this fic!
Word Count: 1392
Warnings: Angst, maybe a little fluff
A/N: This is my first fic after I stopped writing for almost 7 years so apologies for possible crappy storyline and ending or any mistakes I might've not realized! Also this one is for my girls in Puli gc (I just found out some of us are also 5sos fans 🤭) – UPDATE: PART 2
“Mason! I got THE call! I got the job!!!” You said loudly as you were jumping up and down out of happiness like a little child. Mason’s eyes widened when he heard you and came running to you to give you a hug, then he picked you up, swung you around, and gave you a sweet and passionate kiss on the lips. “See!? I knew you’re going to get it Y/N! I’m so proud of you!” His excitement was crystal clear and you loved to see how he reacted. The day you’ve been waiting for has finally come. You got your dream job in your hands. You’ve always wanted to work in fashion industry. You went to college and earned a bachelor’s degree in Fashion, and you basically have prepared your life for this career. You’d applied to multiple companies and landed some interviews but you never got an offer call... Until today. But the thing is... You had to move to America. The company you’re going to work for is in New York City, and now that you’ve got accepted meaning you had to relocate there. You suddenly felt your mood shifted, you were incredibly happy before and now you weren’t sure what to feel anymore. Your boyfriend for 5 years is here in London, and obviously since he's a football player who is currently playing for Chelsea he has to stay in London. You now realized you have to talk about your relationship’s future with Mason because you two are about to live in two different countries, thousands miles apart.
You grabbed a chair, sat down quietly and tried to find the courage to have a (possibly) difficult conversation with Mason. “Mase, I think we need to talk.” “I know what you’re about to say,” he said as he sat down next to you then held both of your hands, “you know I love you so much and I know this job is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, you absolutely deserve this more than anything in the world. I will always be yours no matter where you are, you have nothing to worry about.” “But are you sure? We’ve never done this long distance thing before. There’s going to be actual distance between us. We won’t see each other every day and also the 5-hour difference... Those things don’t sound easy to me at all.” You kept looking down because you were afraid you would start crying the second you saw his eyes. “It’s obviously won’t be easy Y/N, but don’t you think it’s worth to try? I don’t want to give up on us and I hope you don’t too.” You could hear his voice was breaking when he said it, and of course you didn’t want to give up as well. “Hey,” he said softly as he touched your cheeks and leaned down a bit “look at me. We’re gonna be okay. Nothing has to end, right?” You looked up, locked your eyes with him, let out a little smile and replied “You’re right. We’ll be just fine.” He kissed your forehead and your lips, and you heard him saying “We don’t have to say goodbye.”
---
Two weeks had passed and it was time for you to leave. You knew this day would come but you still didn’t feel ready. You spent most of these past 2 weeks with Mason; you both did everything you could together before you move away. You two were pretty much in denial about your relationship situation and just wanted to focus on spending more time together. Since most of your belongings had been packed and shipped to NYC a few days before, for today’s flight you only brought one backpack and 2 suitcases with you. Mason helped you packed your things and he was the one who drove you to the airport. On the way, you two acted like nothing big was happening; you had a fun little carpool karaoke and laughed at how horrible you both were when singing, told stupid jokes to one another and were talking about other things but you both were clearly trying to avoid anything about the future – your futures, separately. You finally arrived at the airport and Mason walked along with you until the front gate. “Well,” he said as he held your hands tight, “I guess it’s time for you to go M’Lady.” You laughed a little, tried to hold back your tears. “Yes, yes it is, M’Lord. I’m so glad you’re here, Mase. I uh, I... I’m sorry I have to leave.” You started breaking and before you know it your tears had fallen down, you could no longer pretend this wasn’t happening anymore. You saw how Mason’s big smile – which is and will always be your favourite smile in the entire world – just disappeared, now replaced by a frown, and you could tell he was trying so hard not to cry. “Y/N...” “Mason, I know you said we don’t have to say goodbye, but I don’t think I can do that. I love you...” you paused because you had to catch your breath from all the crying. “Y/N, please sto-“ “I really, really love you Mase. I don’t want to say goodbye, but it seems like the right thing to do. It is the only right thing to do, no matter how hard it may be but you and I both know it’s for the best...” You could feel how his hands were cold and trembling because he was still holding yours, then he let go and wiped his tears off his face. You saw his red, puffy eyes filled with tears, and it broke your heart even worse. He didn’t say a word for a minute as he was trying to calm himself down before saying anything. “Y/N, I’m not... I’m not ready to let you go. I’m not ready to let us go...” He took one deep breath before continuing, it was really hard for him to say what he felt at the moment. “You are the only girl I’ve ever loved, Y/N. You are the most special girl in the world and I don’t know if I will ever find another woman like you. But as much as I hate saying this, you’re right. It’s time to...” he paused then he bit his bottom lip “uh, to say... Goodbye.” You felt like you were so close to falling down on your knees when he said those words, you knew it was coming but you didn’t know how badly it would hurt you. “Maybe one day we’ll be together again, who knows?” you smiled a little when he said that. You and Mason then gave each other the longest and tightest hug, none of you wanted to let go. You both whispered to each other “I love you always”, he kissed the top of your head and released the hug after you heard the boarding call for your flight. You both wiped the tears off each other’s faces, then leaned in for one final kiss. “Okay,” as you fixed your backpack “I have to go now. Goodbye Mase...” as you waved at him. Still crying, he forced a smile and waved back at you. “Goodbye Y/N.”
---
It has been 3 months since you left London. You love your job so much and you’ve settled well in NYC. You obviously miss everyone in London but you wouldn’t change a thing. Well, maybe one thing... Since the last time you saw Mason you still couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the what ifs, should’ve beens, could’ve beens, everything. You couldn’t help but wondered: has he moved on? Or is he still waiting for you? You don’t know and you don’t want to know. Checking out his contact on your phone has become your before-bed routine. You wanted to call him to hear his voice, to tell him everything, to hear about his day like how it used to be. You really wanted to tell him how much you still love him but you don’t have the guts to. You’ve heard about how nothing lasts forever, yet your love for Mason is still strongly there within your heart. Every night, you would look at old photos of him on your phone and you always told yourself: “Mason, it will always be you... Wherever you are.”
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sotwk · 4 months ago
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Hello!!
I'd like to participate in the OC matchmaker for a Tolkien character :D
Here is my Middle-Earth OC!
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(Small doodle, very terrible, based on me sort of!)
- Her name is Alis, middle 20s, she/her
- She lives in Rohan
- Works as a potter (woman's work if you know what I mean)
- Lives with her mother and father, an only child
- Wants to travel to different places but is scared of the big bad world
- Enjoys books, especially romance stories
- Carries a shiny stone in her apron's pocket for good luck :)
- Knows a little about a lot and a lot about a little
- Is the kind to start thinking about something random and laugh to herself about it regardless of where she is or what she's doing
Thank you!!
What a sweet character! I feel like many Rohan OFCs are created to pair up with Éomer (as someone who supports a Rohirrim wife for Éomer, I love this!), but I'd like to take this opportunity to match Alis with one of my few Rohirrim OCs!
The SotWK Matchmaking Machine pairs Alis with:
LÉODOR, Rider of Rohan! (SotWK OC)
Léodor appears in the last chapter of my fic, "Taken", as a Rider in Éomer King's eored. Originally a peasant from Edoras, he was hand-picked by Éomer to join his eored when the latter took his position as Third Marshal of the Riddermark. This was a rare honor but well-deserved, as Léodor proves himself to be one of Rohan's bravest, strongest, and most steadfast.
While a bit of an unlearned brute (he remains illiterate, like most Rohirrim do), or a himbo in modern vernacular, I can picture Léodor thriving in an "opposites attract" relationship. He would think Alis walks on water for being bookish and crafty, and he would encourage her to step out of her shell and make her feel safe enough to see "the world" together.
Léodor is a family man, and is already mentioned in "Taken" as having a wife and two small children, but hey--the lady is so far unnamed and could be Alis! ;) He will definitely have a bigger role in my WIP sequel for Taken.
(My Unsolicited Fancast: Your sketch of Alis is beautiful! I thought she reminded me very much of Lily James as Cinderella.)
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Thank you for trusting me to match up your OC! :)
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This OC Matchmaking game is part of SotWK's Summer Campfire Sleepover 2024. (Requests accepted only on July 11-15, 2024.)
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chickensarentcheap · 2 months ago
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Friday round up!
@bardic-tales
TBH, I've been really struggling lately with the mental illness still and especially chronic pain. But here's what I'm working on for Tyler and Esme. It's a chapter for Lost and Found. Earlier in the fic they were reunited after five years apart; she had quietly and unexpectedly left and stayed off the radar, despite his attempts to find her and other people keeping her location a secret.
She had hired Tyler to help her out of some deep shit, and in the meantime, surprised him with the news that he was a dad (again, as he had a child he lost with his first wife).
Link to fic:
Little blurb:
“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Maggie playfully and affectionately pats him on the cheek.  “You’re a man after my own heart. If I was thirty years younger…”
“You’d have to fight this one.”  Dropping a kiss on the top of Esme’s head, he steps behind the two women; carrying the items to the back of the pick-up . “She’s tiny, but she’s cagey as hell.”
“It’s always the ones you least expect.   I’ll leave you to it;  I know the little one is anxious to get going.   She’s beautiful, by the way.  But I’d expect nothing less from parents that look like the two of you.” With a fond smile, she reaches out to tuck strands of hair behind Esme’s ear and warmly embraces her. “Pop by whenever you want.  It’ll be nice to catch up.  And fill you in on  all the juicy gossip.”
“I heard that.," Tyler pipes up from where he tidies and organizes items in the truck bed. "And I don’t think I don’t know what you’ll be telling her. And who it’ll be about.”
“Between you and me..." Maggie lowers her voice as she addresses Esme. "...she wasn’t good enough for him.  Always thought her shit didn’t stink.  I don’t know why. She wasn’t anything to write home about.”
“I’m sure she had her good qualities. And moments.”
“Few and far between.  It’s good to have you home.  Where you belong.   It’s like he’s an entirely different person; back to the guy he was when the two of you bought this place.  For five years he walked around with the weight of the world on his shoulders;  just going through the motions,  not giving a single shit about anything going on around him.  You know I hadn't seen him smile in five years? Yet this morning….when he was just going on about and that little girl of his…you couldn’t have wiped that smile off his face if you tried.  It was a beautiful thing to see. A man like him  so happy.”
“I hate what it did him. Me taking off.  Flying under the radar. Keeping Millie a secret. He didn’t deserve any of that.”
“He doesn’t seem to be holding too much ill will. If any.”
“Believe me, I’m holding enough for both of us.  I didn’t want to leave.  And if I’d  felt I  had another choice…” 
“Esme, you don’t…”
“I didn’t leave because I didn’t love him. I left because I did.”
“You don’t owe me…or any other outsider…any explanation.  Sometimes, we have to make tough choices.  Even if we break our own heart in the process.”
“It wasn’t easy.  Walking away. Staying away.”
“All that matters is that you found your way back home.  You’ve got a whole new life ahead of you. So go and start it. Enjoy it.”
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namusthetic · 2 years ago
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The Weird Relatives at the Family Reunion
Half the rumors at the dining table involve them, but they attend family reunions just to cause drama. Their alliance still stands, and gets stronger each gathering.
No.1 - The Chaotic
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Is made 70% out of anger issues and 30% out of spite
Does not care about people's opinions and judgement
Has no patience
Mom friend, scolds you first and then takes care of you anyway
Has their life organized, knows what they want
Only listens to a few selected people whom they trust
Devours sexists for breakfast
Their resistance to caffeine is the same as that of a 5-year-old to sugar
"Bold of you to assume I've reached my peak of dumbass"
Avoids physical touch
Their love language is food giving / cooking
A public danger when driving (and in general)
Eats cereals from the box
Falls completely silent when angry
Probably made a deal with the devil for clear skin
Hates the government with a passion
Listens to hard rock, metal and techno, not necessarily in this order
Helps children with mischievous plans
Ready to throw hands and chew people out if someone is getting bullied
Slapstick humor
Plots new, fun ways of causing mayhem
Catchphrase: "Improvise, attack, overcome."
Playlist:
Don't Stop Me Now by Queen
Istanbul (Not Constantinople) by They Might Be Giants
all the good girls go to hell by Billie Eilish
Cigarette Ahegao by Penelope Scott
LA ESPADA by Eternal Raijin
Scopin by Kordhell
Besos I by Bo Burnham
Supermassive Black Hole by Muse
My Ordinary Life by The Living Tombstone
Maneater by Nelly Furtado
spy? by WHOKILLEDXIX
Let's Groove by Earth, Wind & Fire
No.2 - The Neutral
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Always looks half asleep or annoyed or both
Sarcasm and dark humor
Done with everyone's shit
"save the bees, punch a racist"
comes off as kind and easy-going, but would watch the world burn and not bat an eye
Is inclined to tollerate you better if you offer them coffee or cookies or if you start talking about books
Will cover for you if they like you, tell on you if they don't, you'll never know which one it is until the last second
They'll sit down in a spot away from the family chaos to either ignore or judge everyone
Has a keen eye for body language and nonverbal communication
Bad at managing anxiety and stress
"binarism is for computers, do I look like a fuckin MacBook to you?"
Says they don't like kids but carries candy in their pockets for their nephews
Commitment and trust issues
Starts yelling when they get really mad
Their love languages are acts of service and quality time
Not easy to impress, unless you start the conversation quoting Shakespeare or Dante
Passive aggressive
Listens to literally anything except country music
Hates parents who don't take their children seriously, so they're always ready to lend a ear and give advice
Helps no. 1 plotting by giving technical details and suggestions
Catchphrase: "Oh, I haven't told them good morning simply because I don't think they deserve one"
Playlist:
These Times by Far Caspian
Treehouse by Alex G, Emily Yacina
Tired by beabadoobee
Summer Child by Conan Gray
Young by Vacations
Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens
Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now by The Smiths
The Adults Are Talking by The Strokes
O Children by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds
Sex, Drugs, Etc. by Beach Weather
Bitter Taste by Billy Idol
Obstacles by Syd Matters
No.3 - The Lawful
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Sensitive, must protect
Love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch
Cannot cook for the life of them
Made of sunshine and rainbows
"Please, assume I have dignity"
Sweet but awkward
Wears sunglasses to hide the eye bags
Always rushing somewhere
Loves children
Takes things personally and thus gets hurt too often
Quotes cringy positivity lines
Hard working
Always brings something to eat
Is actually the most insecure about themselves and their body
No.1 and no.2 are ready to physically fight anyone who is mean to them
Cheers you up and has your back
Ready to forgive and forget, rarely blames people for stuff
Too willing to give second chances
Gives stern scoldings if they're mad
When something goes wrong they take it badly and get really sad
A cinnamon roll inside and outside
Knows how to play several instrument so they sing and play for children
Tries to keep no.1 and no.2 from achieving world domination
Catchphrase: "Even if the world is big, you're enough for it"
Playlist:
El Mismo Sol by Alvaro Soler
Brazil by Declan McKenna
OUR SUMMER by TXT
Baby I'm Yours by Arctic Monkeys
Hey Lover! by Wabie
Watermelon Sugar by Harry Styles
NIGHT DANCER by imase
HOME by BTS
Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) by Edison Lighthouse
Bossa No Sé by Cuco ft. Jean Carter
Swing Lynn by Harmless
Promise by Jimin
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serendertothesquad · 2 months ago
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Seren's Studies: Odd Squad UK -- "A Dish Served Odd" Episode Followup, Part 2
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We move on to Part 2. Will Orli get the tour she deserves? Let's go and find out!
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That's...it's...Orli, sweet summer child, we have discussed what that is.
Worse still, it's not even used for a gag or anything. It's just used so the librarian can get more shouting mileage. Jon, there ain't no "kachow" in the world that can save you.
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JON I'M SERIOUS JON. JON. THAT'S NOT EVEN A CLOWN NOSE THAT IS A TARGET SPHERE WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING.
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It...belonged to a clown...who bought things of the wrong size...off the Internet.
Look, this is the Oddverse, and that means I can look some stuff over, but I can't forgive this shit. Everyone and their mothers has bought stuff of the wrong size off of the Internet. Hell, I've bought stuff of the wrong side off the Internet. Where the fuck is my statue, huh??? WHERE THE FUCK IS MY STATUE.
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"Yonder?"
"It means 'over there'. And if you watched Wander Over Yonder, you'd know that."
"...What?"
"Oh, it's a Disney cartoon."
"What's Disney?"
"Ozzie, you poor unfortunate soul."
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Ah, I see I've found the "gadzooks" guy.
Unfortunately, it came free with a fucking "what person has photos of X" gag.
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...YOUR ASS IS FUCKIN' TELLIN' ME THE MOVIE THING WAS A SCAM??????? ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? ALL THIS TIME I THOUGHT IT WAS ODD SQUAD THE MOVIE BEING CANONIZED AGAIN AND IT'S NOT AND I'M SO MAD and i'm off to the local wallfart to cry in my car
fuck you.
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That's gonna be a "yikes" from me, bro. Followed quickly by "hell of a ventriloquist to be speaking like you have your mouth full."
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Okay, Trifler, we've had big boi words dropped in this franchise before where no one explained what they meant, thank you.
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"Come on, sweetie!"
I can feel the internal Olive cringe from where my ass is sitting in the living room right now.
I can also feel the stupidity radiating off this sonuvabitch and I'm waving my stop sign like a madman.
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"See you in 10 years, big red bus."
"Who said you're going to be alive in 10 years?"
"...No, actually, you make a fair point. Damn."
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"Act 2 cliffhanger!"
Honey, we are two minutes away from ending the episode. There are no acts. There are no cliffhangers. Smarten up.
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Y'know, before today, there wasn't really any villain that I actively hated, other than Xavier and Xena. Who weren't really villains, but they were villainous.
Here, I finally found a bitch. Thank you. Kachow your way on outta here.
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So they zap her with an Elbow-Patch-inator -- which, why do they have that in their inventory other than sheer plot convenience? -- and she likes it because it looks like sprinkles.
I couldn't make this sorry shit up if I tried.
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Even in this spinoff, we still have the good old "agents let the villain walk away scot-free and don't monitor them for cleanup efforts" cliche.
There's a reason why cleaning up trash as part of community service has someone there to make sure you don't flake.
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All that shit Orli had to go through and all she had to do was stop a criminal.
This would be like me getting free unlimited McDonald's because I tackled a guy stealing from the till, when I already paid through the app for my food.
It's stupid, is my point.
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Y'know, I've made cracks about writers on drugs before, but Lightning Jon Macqueen must have been on something else to have this much flawed logic in the span of a single episode.
If you have the tour every decade, of course people are gonna get overexcited. If you have it, say, every month, the magic goes away because it's more common.
Don't have to be a dumbass lil' American like me to understand that. And the only way the faulty logic could be justified is if finances were brought into play, and I'm not willing to have a spirited discussion on Britain's financial status without many bottles of chardonnay and a couple joints of grass.
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"Ma'am, this is an 11-minute episode of a TV show. This is not a movie."
"...So it's a movie?"
"I just said- ah, to hell with it. Forget it. But I hear there is a new Looney Tunes movie coming out soon..."
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And your cast for this episode! Honestly, Horatia Hollywood sounds like a really weird villain name...especially considering there is no Hollywood in Britain as far as I'm aware.
------------------------------------
So that's it. Overall, for the first 11-minute episode, it was...a bit lacking. I don't think this spinoff, nor the staff working on it, have found their footing yet and are just tripping over their own feet. It's a good premise for an episode, but...it wasn't executed very well. I feel like not enough focus was given to the tour Orli was supposed to go on -- being an immigrant, it would make sense for her to take a tour of her new country, let alone her new town, but more focus was given to solving the case than the tour in and of itself.
Jon Macqueen has potential. I will give him the benefit of the doubt, absolutely (because after all, Britain is not Odd Squad's home country). But I'm hoping that, within the rest of the 20+ episodes we've got (going by 11-minute episodes, mind), he'll right himself and get to crafting beautiful episodes that make me smile and go, "Yes. This is what I want to see."
With that being said, thanks for reading. I'll see you all for the next followup for "Odd Jubilee". Which should be a funner episode, seeing as how it has a song. And anyone who knows me well knows I am a sucker for songs in my funny secret agent children math show.
Seren out!
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