#that's the sad thing about death. you can't feel them anymore and it really feels you're losing them even more

[yuseirra]

memories

[churipu]

STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing, mentions of death, gojo being sad and angry, 2006 gojo geto shoko.

note. for some reason i feel angsty today and i just saw this prompt on pin, just had to write it lol.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call — your very last call.

"i could've fuckin' saved them, suguru." gojo blankly stared at the ceiling, his head thrown back onto the couch's rest; he was conflicted, he didn't know what to do. it was as if his motoric abilities had just stopped all of a sudden.

"satoru . . ."

"i could've fuckin' saved y/n." the white haired male mumbled out, his face scrunching in frustration.

gojo has dealt with death. a lot. the concept of death isn't a stranger to him anymore, not in this world — and to think that he'd actually be alive to experience deaths of his loved ones, thinking he could have done so much more made him hate himself.

god, gojo hated crying in front of other people. the aura in the room was palpable. nobody spoke —nobody dared to speak— and the only sound resounding was the vague ticking belonging to the clock hanging on the wall.

"i could've fuckin' saved them," the male repeated for the third time, his voice breaking that he had to inhale sharply to stop himself from breaking down right there.

gojo pushed himself up, placing his palms above his eyes, pressing down on them harshly; he lets out a loud sigh, "where the fuck did it all go wrong?"

"y/n was killed in action . . ." god, gojo wanted to rip his hair out when yaga called him in privately to say that. the male had lost count of how many times the statement repeated in his mind.

frankly, it's haunting.

out of all the news he could have received today, he never expected to hear your death lulling into his eardrums. so soon. so many things swirling in his mind all at once that even he, deemed the strongest, felt the sensation of losing. he felt weak.

"hi, 'toru — you're probably busy since my call went straight to voice mail, but 'm just saying . . . i love you, and i miss you. so much." there was a slight pause and your breathing shallowed into the mic, every single detail in your last moments were graved in that file, "'m not sure if . . . i'll be back as soon as i promised, but, i just want you to know that whatever happens. happens."

there was a slight static before your soft voice recoiled back into the mic, "i've never broken any promises to you, but this might be the very first time — and just know that i've never wanted to do this, i fucking hate myself for this," your voice broke slightly, "'m bleeding. a lot. but 'm trying to stop it just like how ieiri taught me. and i think 'm doing shit at it . . . i don't know what happened, and how it happened; but 'm not doing okay."

"i don't want to die, 'toru." you whispered into the mic, hoarse and weak — feeling the life drain out, "i really don't want to die . . . i have so many things i want to do with you, and suguru, and ieiri . . ." you murmur out, inhaling sharply but it all ended up with you coughing out in pain.

"remember that time i said i wanted to open a pet hotel . . ? i don't know if you think i was joking, but i was really serious about opening one," you began to mumble out, all in random directions — none of your words make any sense anymore, and you could barely keep yourself awake.

"i don't want to die, please," you pleaded, desperate for life. no matter what you did at this point — the light inside of you was almost out, and you can't do anything about it, "fuck. i hate this. so much, 'toru."

"i want to see you again. i miss you. i miss you so so much," you softly murmur out, " . . . i love you. i love you so much, satoru."

and everything ended right after. including you.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call. your. very. last. call.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[neil-gaiman]

this may come off very blunt and out of the blue, but i need an answer and i can't ask anyone i know, so i apologise profusely if you find this derogatory in any way possible.

i'm 14 and i found out what death means when i was 3 and living with my grandparents. i figured that when someone dies, you can't see them anymore. you can't talk to them, you can't laugh with them. they aren't there anymore. and i cried. i cried so hard i vomited.

ever since i've struggled to think about death and what lies beyond. i'm scared. of growing up, of dying, of seeing people around me die. and i don't know what to do.

i know this will likely get lost among the hundreds of thousands of asks in you inbox, but if by fate you read this, please tell me

how does it feel when someone you know dies?

hank you, and i apologise once again if this is disrespectful. i know it's a pretty deranged thing to ask, especially to a well-known writer who has gone through life. i'm sorry if this brings up sad memories, but i need an answer.

all the best to you and everyone around you, mr neil.

Mostly it feels terrible. It even feels terrible when it’s someone who has been in a lot of pain for a long time or has not really been there for a long time and you know that Death has in some ways been a blessing: suddenly you are mourning the whole person.

It doesn’t get easier as you age. It gets stranger. The point where you realise how many people you used to know and like who aren’t there any longer, and you cannot talk to them or see them or laugh with them is painful in a way that I had never expected. The first time that someone you had a romantic relationship with dies and you realise that there had been moments both of you shared and now you are the sole custodian of those moments and one day you will be gone and they will be lost forever is peculiarly strange and hard.

But there is a comfort. And it’s the realisation that you aren’t alone in any of this. Everybody who lives will die. And we are here and doing things because other people died to make room for us, and we in our turn will die to make room for our children and their children and on and on.

[bl0odyh3art]

JUST LIKE HER.

warnings: incest (father/daughter), James being disgusting, james comparing you and Mary 😭, non-con to dub-con, and getting turned on by yelling.

this is dead dove/dark content. if are uncomfortable with this kind of content or don't like it, then do not interact.

a/n : this lowkey sucks to me

Being with your dad wasn't so bad. He supports you, cares for you, lets you drive his car sometimes, and decided it was okay for you to live with him still. Unless you find a nice spot. But there's one thing.

He's really, really, really, really, a serious loser. I mean come on…he's kinda pathetic. Sad to say it but it's true, your dad isn't always the best of the best. He can be lazy and dumb. Sometimes really touchy with you as well….but that's for another time. Whenever he sees you, cleaning, cooking, or whatever that reminds him of Mary in the slightest.

He'd go insane and go on long stories about her, of course he never told you what really happened…you'd hate him with all your guts and heart. He even feels pathetic for mistaking you for her once.

“Dad, it's been years. I thought you'd let go of it now.” You sighed as you grabbed the tiny towel to dry off a dish.

“I know, sweetie but it's just-....you look like her sometimes and that makes me freak out..” He looked away from you, what kind of father does that? Gets excited over almost seeing his dead wife but in reality it's just his daughter.

Honestly, when did you get so big? When you were a kid, you looked a lot more like him. Exactly like your dad, people would mistake you for a boy sometimes.

He was staring at you, long and good…just looking. ‘Would she feel just like Mary?’ He let his thoughts take over. What the fuck.

He cringed internally and put his head in his hands. He can't. He knows he shouldn't…but fuck. He saw all the bits of Mary…Mary…and himself. Mostly his genes but you were a perfect mix. The tits and ass…god he just wanted to grab them and compare them but that'd already make him more of a loser than he is.

Being miserable and wanting to fuck his own daughter? Really trying to make himself look bad at this point. But what could be the harm? Only once. He hid Mary's death for a bit…He can hide this too.

“What are you doing?” Scoffing at him as he puts his hands on your hips, Trying to swat them away.

“You look like her, y’know..?” He said in the softest and sad voice he had.

Pathetic ass loser trying to seduce his daughter. Barf.

“Okay…and?...” You tried to turn your head to look at him. He stared at you with a certain look you've seen before. The look you saw customers give you at work. “Let's fuck” look. He tried slipping his cold hands underneath your sweater, making you flinch and push him away.

“Hey! What the hell is wrong with you?” Your brows furrow and look disgusted with him. You should be disgusted because he deserves it.

“Honey, I'm so sorry…I don't know what came over me….” He sighed. He knew exactly what came over him but sadly it didn't work.

So plan B. Fuck her while she's sleeping. Not his proudest moments but hey, he's had worse moments. So during the night, while you're all tucked in and fast asleep. He comes in like the boogeyman at night and boom.

He can't wait another minute, feeling up your tits and kissing you…Okay, so it doesn't really taste like her but it's sweeter and softer.

After minutes of kissing you and feeling up your tits, you get up and slap him quickly “God, what the fuck is wrong with you? I can't even sleep anymore? Fuck…you're so gross, I can't believe mom delt with you.” You basically yelled at him and wow, that's what got him hard.

Whiskey Dick the whole time he was touching you but the yelling is what got him turned on. Fucking freak.

You couldn't do much, he's stronger and older, you had to give in and just let it happen. He has a big dick though…a real nice pale, veiny, pink tip dick. Pushing it deeper and deeper into you as he let go of strained groans.

“I'm sorry…. I'm- fuck I'm sorry baby but…I couldn't stop…” He breathed out into your neck, he got red pretty easily. his pretty neck is all red and his dick of course just absolutely throbbing against your soft walls. Making you cry out in pleasure and pain.

“Dad!...Oh God…ahah…please rub my clit…” you whined to him and he instantly listened. It's so cute. the perfect pussy, chubby, tight, and wet. After what seemed like hours, he finally came all in you. His jaw clenching, eyes closed, and hands stuck to your hips while he tried so hard to not moan ‘Mary’. No condom or anything. He wasn't capable of waiting for something like that. He felt guilty. Looking at your tired and exhausted expression.

“Baby…My baby…I'm so sorry for that..” He sighed out, leaning his head down to your shoulder and letting it rest there as you just patted his back. “S’okay, dad…” you slurred out, cock drunk.

At least he got some pussy finally.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alba's Version) III

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: You wonder if it could have been different for you

*TW: suicide, death, depressive thoughts, overdose*

Sometimes, as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you wonder if you were always doomed to become this.

This shell of a person that no one can recognise.

This phantom inhabiting someone else's body.

You wonder if your life would have turned out differently if Alexia had given you away.

Maybe straight at your birth, to some couple that actually lived half a world away. Would you have even known you were Spanish?

Certainly given away to Jenni when you were younger. Would you have even been a Putellas anymore?

Jenni has faded from your mind a bit now. You used to see her regularly as a kid, back when she and Alexia were dating. But then she went to Mexico and the visits faded. You never went to Spain camp so you never saw her.

Jenni was firmly entrenched in the world of football.

You had always been an outsider.

You wonder if there's something you could have done to make yourself more appealing to Alexia. If something as simple as being good at football was enough to make her like you.

You didn't need her to love you.

You just needed her to like you.

That could be enough for you.

You didn't need a seat at her table or a home in her house. Just a warm feeling from her towards you could be enough.

Anything but the air of neutrality that you know she feels when she looks at you.

Anything but the non-committal hums when you spoke to her.

Anything but the way she so proudly showed off her son but left you in the background, the afterthought that only got brought up when people mentioned that they're sure she had a daughter too.

You don't recognise yourself in Alba's bathroom mirror. Whatever sad, fractured version of yourself that looks back at you can't possibly be who you are, can't possibly be what you look like.

Alexia's face clouds your version, like she's taken over your reflection, like she's trapped inside you every time you look in the mirror.

You wonder if she sees any of herself in you when you meet eyes.

You wonder if in another world, any world, she truly sees you as a daughter.

You wonder if you were always heading here, to this destination.

To the temporary refuge of Alba's home.

You wonder if you were meant to have jumped into the ocean that night. You wonder if your body was meant to have floated out to sea where no one could find you.

You wonder if outrunning your fate then meant it had worked doubly hard to catch up to you now.

The ocean would have been peaceful. You would have been rocked to salvation by the waves.

Now, it will not be so peaceful and you can accept that.

You have always been a runner, always sprinting away from your problems only for them to come back. Worse. Meaner. Holding you in a grip so tight that you suffocate.

You could have taken the easy way out.

But instead you are making everyone suffer with you.

Because of you.

You wish you had taken the plunge then. You wish you'd had the courage to take it all away then.

No one would have known.

You would have been written off as just another one of those people that randomly disappeared. You would have left things open for your family to imagine where you were, living a life better than this.

A runaway to greener pastures.

Not a dead body buried in a watery grave.

You suppose, now that you didn't do it then, that you'd have a proper grave now.

No one ever really thinks about how they're going to go, not truly anyway. People think about what will happen at their funerals, what kind of music they'd want, if they'd want to be buried or cremated.

But people rarely think of their deaths outside of falling asleep one day and never waking again.

You suppose that must be peaceful too, in a way.

You wonder if people at the end of their lives know they are. You wonder if they go to sleep one day knowing they won't awaken the next.

You wonder if they have such clarity like you do now.

Your reflection turns back into you now, not that twisted version of Alexia. You but not you but not Alexia either and there's peace in that.

You sink into the bath, the water rising to your shoulders.

It's only precautionary really.

You know what's really going to take you, the pills you'd swallowed a scant few minutes ago.

But this is reassurance.

This is to make sure it sticks.

You were never made to last. A portrait of a young girl, a snapshot that never ages. Made to look pretty and stand in the background of things. Made to be unimportant, unassuming until you're needed.

There is clarity in this, you think as you glance at the door.

There is peace.

But you could still get up now, go downstairs to your aunt and explain. Tell her she needs to take you to the hospital to pump your stomach. Tell her that you need her like you needed her as a child when she took you away from Alexia for those few days and you felt more alive than you ever did before.

Than you ever did again.

But you don't.

It's too late now.

In a few minutes, a few hours, however long it takes, she will find you.

She will find you and your note.

You thought about writing to others but you couldn't put words to paper, you couldn't work out what you wanted to say.

But Tia Alba has a note because you know she loves you and you know she will blame herself for this.

You know she deserves to be told why you've done this, why her love alone couldn't keep you from imploding on yourself.

You wonder if she will show Alexia. You wonder if Alexia will wonder why she didn't get a note as well.

You wonder if Alexia will even care.

You wonder if she ever felt enough love for you for this to be heart breaking to her.

You don't think it matters though.

This isn't her choice.

It's yours.

And you've made your peace with it.

It's as easy as falling asleep.

[lxdymoon0357]

I’m seeing requests are open, craving Callisto (from Death is the only ending for the Villainess or Villains are destined to die) X reader. Prompt; they are in a relationship for years, and it’s healthy as it can be, and in healthy relationships arguments are bound to happen no? One day they have an argument that escalates so much that the reader cries, and this is the first time that Callisto witnesses them cry ever. Feel free to range this from tears sliding down the cheeks or full on bawling, but how would Callisto react to seeing his beloved cry for the very first time in an argument in a relationship they have been in for years?

(Okay, now I'm too sure if this came out well....But it's pretty short, kinda upset about that)

© Writing belongs to me, Lxdymoon0357. Do not plagiarize, but reblogging, liking and commenting is deeply appreciated.

The heart tears apart...

...They say guilt is like rust- it is slow...but powerful and it eats the person alive...How was Callisto suppose to realize that saying was true until your cries fell on deaf ears...? This was not what he thought was result in tonight's anger...And it was all his fault...

He had been upset all day after someone spoke ill of your relationship, saying you're too good for him or he's too wild or he's not deserving of it...He's proud of his achievements, including achieving your love, but sometimes when chronic words are repeated...

They're like tiny pebbles, they don't hurt but there is one stone once in a while which when thrown bleeds into the skin...and that's what happens with vile words of stupid nobles who speak the same thing over and over again...Suddenly he didn't like your relationship for a second, not because of you...Because of himself, he felt angry as his mind spoke that he was tying you down, that he was not worthy of this and that there was someone better for you...

"WHAT DON'T YOU REALIZE, IT'S YOUR UTTER FAULT THAT I DON'T LIKE BEING WITH YOU ANYMORE?!" He yelled angrily, his eyes seeing red

......Was that really him? The one who fell down on his knees in a dying breath when he was away form you for too long, and Callisto didn't realize what he said until it fell in your ears and tears slipped down your cheeks..

Those eyes whom he always wanted to be filled with happiness, the same face he wanted to glow with beauty, smiles and laughter were now covered in tears because of him and suddenly inside him broke as he stopped in between his words, frozen..

You staring down on the ground with tears down your cheeks as he stopped his words, absolutely torn apart,

"Baby-I...I."

he couldn't say anything as he walked closer, he had never seen you cry and he knows why he doesn't let you even cry cause the sight was mentally painful to make him cry on his own as he walked a bit close, taking a hold of your wrist of the hand you were using to rub your eyes harshly to wipe the tears away.

You tried to pull away, but his grip on your wrist was tight as he pulled you in a tight hug, hiding your face in his chest, letting your cry ins expensive tuxedo, inhaling his cologne to calm yourself, clinging to him...

You would have never expected an argument to end with this, as he gently cried in your neck as he sat down and picked you up, pulling him on your lap, apologizing over and over in your skin.

You can't deny, it felt bad...but seeing him upset felt even worse, as you softly ran your fingers through his golden-blonde hair, as if threaded with the purest gold in this world...with the shine of a sun, such a bright smile he had..how sad most people couldn't see it, you did...it was gorgeous and so his sadness hurts just as bad as his anger..

You softly pulled his face up and kissed him, maybe you'll try to fix this again, how gorgeous he was..you couldn't deny his love...and you didn't mind his anger directed at you, even if heart tears apart, he fixed it with all he had..

[thesummerestsolstice]

So I think one thing that really drives Feanor is his grief– he looses Miriel, and he very clearly never recovers from that. There's the pain of loosing a parent and the added layer of Miriel's death being, on some level, a choice to leave Feanor. You can't tell me he didn't internalize the idea that he wasn't good enough for his mother to stay ay least a little. And I can't help but imagine that most of Valinor really wasn't helpful. There was probably a lot of vague sympathy with no real understanding of the situation, people who in theory thought Feanor had the right to grieve but reacted pretty badly to any actual displays of grief, and some people who insisted that Miriel chose to stay dead, Finwe and Indis were happily married, and therefore, Feanor shouldn't feel sad about it anymore. Even for those with more understanding of grief, it's still a really complicated situation. But you know who would understand Feanor?

Elrond. And the reason is Elros and Arwen– Elrond knows what it's like when someone you love dearly chooses to leave you, essentially forever, not because they don't care about you or because you weren't good enough, but because they have to make the best choice for themselves. And how you can respect that choice, and be glad that they did what they needed to, but still grieve them and the relationship you had with them. He understands those complicated feelings and how to process them in a healthy and non-destructive way.

And I'm losing my mind over this because Feanor is the one who starts the kinslayings and the cycle of violence between elves, and Elrond is the end result of all that violence; born to two refugees and raised largely by Feanor's sons. But despite all that, he's good and kind and able to focus on healing instead of pain. He ends the violence and makes a sanctuary where everyone is welcome. And he's able to do what Feanor never could, and not be consumed by his pain. And that means so much.

[httpisaoki]

'till death do us part ft. yu jimin

sypnosis. after 10 years of marriage, even if it was only an arranged marriage, you thought that she would at least stay loyal. least to say the sounds coming from your shared bedroom last night weren't just nothing. and the moment you shove the divorce papers to her face, she couldn't let you go just like that, can't she? 

tags. domestic au, non-idol au, ceo au, cheating, angst, crying, wlw, marriage

warnings. cheating, arranged marriage, karina CHEATEDDD, oooo you mad mad, crying, ANGST. (that's all i think?)

-> part two. not proofread!

last night was foggy, karina had woken up naked, her fling right next to your side of the bed, an empty feeling in her stomach. she shouldn't have done that, she thinks, but it's too late. it's happened more than she can count and she knows that the fling she had wasn't going to end anytime soon. she feels guilty but you never liked her, or did you?

Now she stands across from you, the silence in the room makes her nervous. the papers in your hands made her anxious, she couldn't lose you. the tension in the room could be sensed miles away, you were mad--- and she knew it.

it's all clear in the way you stood against the door, a hint of anger radiating off your body. karina was scared, she felt the sweat on her palms, her eyes fixed on those papers on your hands as if she could burn a hole through them if she stared long enough. 

"please... just... wait a moment." she pleaded. 

why should she get her way when she had been the one who betrayed your trust? her infidelity wasn't excusable in any way. "I don't have all day." the  tone of you voice cold, she knew if you was angry— she wouldn’t have a chance.

she wanted to whimper in fear, the coldness of your voice could send her to tears, a tone that would make even the most powerful man cower in fear. she could feel the blood rush out of her face, her legs shaking, she just couldn't let you go. 

and then the moment of realization hit her, the tone of your voice, the way you were standing and the glare of your eyes had reminded her of something, a memory that she'd tried so hard to bury away..

"Please..."

she wanted to cry, but the fear of you turning her down stopped her tears from falling. she'd cheated because of her own problems, her own loneliness, and her own issues but she was still your wife. she was still yours.

she begged again, a tone of desperation in her voice.

the last thing she'd want was to lose you... but she knows it was her fault.

the words that would come out of her mouth right now could make or break your marriage.

she takes a deep breath, looking up at you, trying not to cry from the fear that was rising in her chest, a knot tying in her throat.

"please... i know that i cheated but..."

"stop." the ice in your tone was unforgiving, the lack of patience in those eyes would make just about everyone shut up and listen. you weren't going to be easily manipulated anymore. 

"i don't want to hear it." she flinches at the tone of your voice, her eyes fluttering for a moment before she forces herself to look up again. 

her eyes fill with sadness, those pleading words were stuck in her throat, a lump taking place in her mouth.

"after 10 years, really? I knew this would never work out." the anger in you voice had made her shiver. "but to think that you'd cheat with jaewook, one of my employees too, huh?" the venom in your voice forced out a bitter chuckle. "h-he..." the words stuck in her throat for a minute, she couldn't believe that you knew of her affair partner, then she shook her head slightly. "yes, him.." 

the fact that you knew his name made her want to shrink. your eyes pierced through her, you knew every single detail of this entire ordeal. you knew how often this had happened between the two of them, you knew she had betrayed you the moment she accepted a drink during the business dinner.

her lips parted for a moment, her brain scrambled, panic and fear consumed her. she could see your anger now, you knew everything, she was caught red-handed.  "you...you know everything.." her voice cracked as she spoke. You scoffed, "you didn't think that I'd be stupid enough to not keep tabs on you?" you smiled sarcastically, 

"we had agreed on none of us seeing anyone and being faithful even if our marriage was arranged, right? I had to make sure. and I was right, you didn't stick to your promise, karina." the way her name rolled off your tongue, the tone of disgust as you said it.

the way you had said her name, her own name, with a tone of disgust made her want to sob.  you knew everything, every single detail of this affair, every detail that she thought she'd hidden so brilliantly. 

she gulped, her throat drying out at the fact that you were well aware that she's betrayed your trust. you had kept track of her, you had kept her in your palms the whole time and she was foolish enough to do such thing under your nose.

"beg all you want, I don't care." you spoke harshly, "you know how I don't tolerate cheating." the cruel nature of your response made her flinch. her lips parted for a moment before she said, "don't you care about me? don't you...don't you love me?" 

as much as she was guilty for her infidelity, she still hoped that you liked her, that you cared for her, that you saw her as your wife despite the arranged marriage. but the tone of your voice made it clear that you didn't, that the only thing you were capable of feeling was anger, hate-- disgust.

you scoffed, "why didn't you asked yourself that before you went into bed with him?" a hint of sarcasm in your tone. "don't..." she wanted to sob, the humiliation of you reminding her of her own infidelity was torture. but the fact that she did it to herself was even worse, she was the only one to blame. but it's not like she had done it out of pure lust... no, it was her need of validation-- a need for some form of connection with a man. she'd felt so lonely in the marriage, but that wasn't your fault. she gulped, her eyes fixed on yours as the tears fell.

"Who do you think took you home after all those stressful nights that you drank until you passed out? who do you think supported your company after all those years? was it him or was it me?" your tone was cold but the look in your eyes showed that you were hurt.

"it was you..." she was reminded of all the times you'd picked her up from work after she finished her work, the times you've carried her to bed when she had passed out, the times she'd called you in tears. she owed her success to you, to your support.

a knot took place in her throat but the words couldn't come out, she couldn't find a single excuse for her infidelity. "you did...everything for me."

You hummed, "just because I didn't show it doesn't mean I didn't care. you out of all people should know that." you let out a shaky breath.

she gulped, she couldn't believe that she had thrown away 10 years of marriage for another man. your cold demeanour, your unapproachable nature, all of it was a wall she had slowly started chipping away over the years but the fact that she was the one who initiated that affair was the saddest thing of all. 

"please, I'm sorry..."

"can we give ourselves another chance? please...we can...we can start over..." her knees were nearly giving out at that point, the thought of losing you was far too terrifying. but she was the one to mess up the marriage...

but you had been so kind the whole time, despite the fact you didn't show affection, she could see that you cared in your own way. she just had to prove that she was worthy of your attention-- your love.

"fill out the papers, karina." your voice was soft, wanting to get this over with already, you tossed her the papers. "no...wait..." 

her heart was racing, she couldn't stand this anymore. the thought of losing you was enough to make her knees buckle, her heart sinking to her stomach. but the papers...

they were for the divorce, your divorce papers...

she looked down at them, her fingers trembling, the tears running down her face, and she thought of one thing and one thing alone. 

she should've never cheated.

-> idk if this is a teaser for an upcoming series of mine or if this is just my karina rip post idk but yeah, thanks for the support !! :)

[sashaisready]

Since You've Been Gone: Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Series Masterlist

After a regrettable first meeting in the cemetery, you discover that you have something in common with a certain member of the Avengers. Unfortunately, you can't choose your neighbours, even in death.

(Setting is approx. post TFATWS)

Hi, I'm back! I have no idea where this came from, or where it's going! So apologies as updates may not be consistent while I figure it out. Warnings for death of parents, grief, mentions of cemetery/graves - please tread carefully if these are triggers for you.

🍂

It was a chilly Autumn day, but not unbearable. Your coat could more than handle the frigid breeze. You squinted at the headstone as you crouched on your knees, angling your head to make sure you hadn’t left any streaks or marks from the polish. Satisfied with your performance, you trimmed a few of the roses that were leaning against it before standing and taking a step back to admire your handiwork.

Immaculate as always, so neat you could almost be fooled into thinking you weren’t even outside. You could hear your parents’ voices in your head now, joking about being able to keep their graves far cleaner that you ever managed your bedroom to be, their frequent nags falling on deaf adolescent ears.

You smiled sadly as you looked at the intricately engraved text below their names on the shared stone:

Beloved parents taken too soon,

Waiting in heaven to be reunited with their only daughter

You’d never really like that phrasing; it was a little too whimsical for your tastes – especially all these years later. But a recently orphaned teenager wasn’t exactly an expert in choosing the best headstone wording. You’d been more than happy to let your aunt and the funeral home lead the way, too paralysed by grief to make even the smallest decisions in the hellscape that was death admin.

Still, you’d never want to upset your aunt by getting it changed, there’s a lot of strange emotion tied up in grief even when time has passed, and that mourning teen has become an adult. And it wasn’t like new headstones were cheap anyway…

As you packed up your cleaning kit your attention was drawn to the two graves next to your parents’ - George and Winnifred Barnes. They had both passed several decades earlier, long before your parents were buried next to them. They had died only a few months apart according to the text…maybe they’d couldn’t survive without each other.

It was easy to infer that they no longer had anyone left earthside. The graves had been long untouched, unkempt, and overgrown, the inscriptions getting harder to read – and you’d never seen any evidence of a visitor in all your time coming here. Except of course when the cemetery staff did one of their occasional mass clean-ups of the neglected graves.

About a year ago, you’d started tending to them alongside your parents. You weren’t sure why, it just seemed like the right thing to do. They were neighbours after all. And you’d want someone to do the same for your mum and dad if you weren’t around.

You’d cleaned their stones, wiped away the grime and given them a decent polish. You’d trimmed back the weeds and laid fresh flowers. The first time took a while, but after you’d got them to a reasonable standard it was all pretty easy to maintain.

You’d often wondered who they were. What they were like. The dates suggested they’d died of old age, a luxury your parents didn’t have. Were they kind? Funny? What hobbies did they have? They were around during the war, that must’ve been tough. You knew from the inscriptions that they had children who would’ve been over hundred by now. Maybe no grandchildren which is why nobody came by to see them anymore. It made you feel sad, how we could all be just a few generations away from being forgotten entirely. At least you could try to remember them.

You gave their graves a quick once over, took away the dead flowers and added some fresh roses in their place.

“Well, I’m done,” you said aloud, “see you soon, mum and dad. And you too, George and Winnifred. Sleep well”.

You sighed, walking back to your car and back to your life. You knew all too well that the dead may be still, but the world continues around them.

🍂

A week later you were back at the cemetery with your cleaning kit slung over your back, your arms full of fresh flowers.

“Afternoon, mum and dad,” you said as you placed your kit and flowers down and pulled out the foam pad that you used to kneel on, “and you, George and Winnifred”.

“Work has been kicking my ass this week,” you sighed as you got to work on your parents’ stone. “There’s only so much I can take of Brock’s moaning about the numbers…it’s getting harder not to smash my keyboard over his head – yeah I know, violence isn’t the answer, blah-blah-blah…”

You worked diligently, chatting away as you went through your maintenance tasks. It was nice, talking to them like this. You could say anything, really. No judgements, no admonishment, just silent acceptance of everything you told them. It was a bit like therapy for you. You often imagined your parents were sitting behind you as you spoke, just out of sight.

You liked to use old newspaper to buff up the marble. As you gathered your things together, you glanced at some of the headlines from the copy you’d brought with you. Lots of dreary grimness unfortunately. There was also a longread feature on the Avengers and where they were now, their photographs lined up across the top of the page. It was sad that a few of them were dead now, or at least no longer here. You felt a pang of sadness for their loved ones – you knew what that was like.

You didn’t know all the details of The Avengers and their associates, but like everyone else you knew the basics. It was a strange time, just a decade or so ago nobody had ever thought superheroes really existed…but then all of these ‘enhanced’ people started crawling out of the woodwork, revealing weapons and technology that previously had only existed in sci-fi movies. It was hard to believe, really.

You scanned the newspaper page, looking at the pictures for a few moments. You took your time studying their faces before sighing and placing it back down.

“All done…now let’s help out George and Winnie over here, looks like you guys need some new flowers…and all that heavy rain we’ve been having has really done a number on your stones…let me just-”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the gruff voice behind you demanded, causing you such a shock that you nearly joined your parents.

You spun your body away from the graves, horrified to see a man looming over you as you stared at him open-mouthed in surprise. You hadn’t heard him approach, not quite understanding how you hadn’t noticed him coming at all…

“I said what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he repeated to you, his blue eyes alight with anger.

He was big. Bigger than you. Even under his coat you could see his broad shoulders. A mop of dark hair framed his face, most likely quite an attractive face when it wasn’t pulled into a furious sneer like it was now. He wore black gloves as he pointed at you accusingly. The fact that you were kneeling on the ground while he stood towering at his full height had not gone unnoticed by you.

There was something strangely familiar about him, but you couldn’t place it. Did he shop at the same market as you? You couldn’t quite…

“I’m…I’m just-” you spluttered as you fumbled for the words, still caught in your surprise and the fact that this normally serene time had been interrupted by a stranger yelling at you…

“Get away from there!” he snarled.

You quickly realised he was talking about the Barnes’ graves. You bounced backwards, landing painfully on your ass in your desperation to do what he said. He had a chilling air of authority that you didn’t want to screw with. You weren’t trying to piss off an angry man while you were out here all alone…

“I was just tidying them up,” you managed weakly as you sat up and clutched at the flowers.

“Nobody asked you to,” he scoffed in response as he leaned over and ran a gloved finger over Winnifred’s inscription, “you shouldn’t be clambering all over graves of people you don’t know”.

You frowned as the initial shock of the encounter wore off, now annoyed now at his abrupt rudeness towards you when you only had good intentions.

“Oh, and you know them, do you?” you snapped back sharply as your felt your emotions surge and your eyes water, your cheeks hot with mortification, “well, nobody has been to visit those graves in years so-”

“Yeah, actually I do know them - I’m their son,” he spat furiously.

Your head bounced back in surprise and confusion. You curled your lip and frowned at his strange claim, he appeared to be his mid-to-late 30s at most – many years away from the very elderly man he’d need to be for that to be true.

What was his goal here, exactly?

Was this guy just looking to start an argument and decided you’d be his target? Spouting off nonsense about random graves just to mess with you?

And where did you know him from?

Despite your survival instincts, you couldn’t help but fight back. You didn’t appreciate being messed with at the best of times, let alone when you were only here to visit your deceased loved ones. Who came to a graveyard to fuck with people? And yell at them?!

“Huh? Son?” you scoffed with derision and jabbed a finger towards the inscriptions about their children, “well, that can’t be true as that would mean their kids would have to be over a hundred…and how many one-hundred-year-olds look like you…?”

“I’m 107 years old, actually,” he said venomously. He sounded utterly sincere despite the ludicrousness of his claim. His face was sullen, his eyes piercing.

You ignored the shudder that threatened to roll through you in response. It was a strangely familiar expression on his face.

Where had you seen that look?

“Oh, yeah! You’re 107…Sure!” you laughed sarcastically. “You just have the greatest plastic surgeon of all time, in fact there’s a bunch of centenarians wandering around looking thirt-”

You trailed off as a wave of recognition suddenly hit you and the penny dropped. Oh. Oh.

He wasn’t from the market…

It was him.

Your eyes panned down to the crumpled newspaper lying next to you. The same man’s face scrutinised you from the page, an exact mirror image of the brooding 3D version in front of you. A little older now, but still unmistakably the same man.

Oh!

Now you remembered that same picture on the news. Read about the terrible things he’d done before when he was under hypnosis. For the Nazis? The Soviets? Both? Flashes of recollection hit you at once, disjointed and scattered.

It wasn’t really him doing all of it, it was a mind control thing, they’d said. He was like the Captain…the first one from the 40s. Kept young…somehow. He had a robot arm. Then there was the big government pardon after he’d helped to save the world. The deep dive the New York Times had done on his assassin past. What had they said he was called? Iceman? Winter? Winter hitman?

The Winter Soldier.

Barton? Baines? No, Barnes.

Barnes.

As in…son of Winnifred and George?

Ah.

He must’ve seen your train of thought written all over your face as he nodded solemnly at you.

“Yeah. It’s me. And I only found their resting place a few weeks ago,” he said with disdain.

You got to your feet, taking a few cautious steps backwards. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. You didn’t need to be a jerk - I’ve just been coming here for years, and I’d never seen…”

You trailed off, he didn’t care. His focus was on the graves, one gloved hand gripping the top of his father’s stone as he peered down at the grass below.

You turned to leave, giving him his privacy, “I’m sorry for your loss,” you mumbled quietly as you picked up your kit.

You started to head back to your car, then turned to face him again after a couple of steps. You warily moved back towards him and leaned over, placing a single flower between the feet of his parents’ graves. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t pick it up and throw it back in your face, either.

As you walked away, you thought you felt the weight of his gaze on your back.

🍂

Another week passed and you were back at the cemetery once more, working the usual routine and doing your best to forget what had happened the last time you were here. Upsetting a war veteran slash Avengers superhero by accusing him of not being his parents’ child was impressively incompetent, even by your standards. But in your defence, he did just start yelling at you out of nowhere. And you were only trying to help. And he was a literal defiance of nature, time, and aging…

But then again, people weren’t always their best selves in a cemetery. It wasn’t exactly Happy Hour over here. And you’d probably freak out too if you caught a stranger tinkering around with the resting place of your parents. The parents who died of old age while you were cryogenically frozen and a prisoner in your own body…

You’d done a little more reading up on him, James Buchanan Barnes. ‘Bucky’. The man behind the scary winter soldier mask. The older images of him in his combat gear were chilling, as were the alleged stats of his kills, but mainly you just felt immense empathy for a man out of time. A man who had lost his youth, a limb, his autonomy, and everybody he once knew from his old life.

You tried to put it out of your mind, catching your parents up on what they’d missed and pretty-ing things up a little around their plot. You didn’t touch the Barnes’ this time, just gave them a little wave and concentrated on your own flesh and blood.

You were a million miles away, lost in the quiet fog that often seemed to overtake you when you were working in the cemetery. It was peaceful, really. This was the one place you could switch your brain off and quiet the chatter of your head, just concentrate on the tasks you knew so well by now that your hands did them on muscle memory alone.

You were just adjusting the newest flowers when a voice interrupted you.

“Hey,” it said.

It startled you as you were still in your own world and hadn’t heard anyone else approach. You whirled around slightly panicked as a pair of eyes the colour of sapphires met yours.

It was him again.

“Oh, hello,” you replied quietly.

He stared over at you, wrapped up in his coat as he was last time. His stare was still intense despite appearing much calmer than when you first met him. He wore black pants and boots, his hands tucked away into his pockets, a dark backpack slung over his shoulder. His face was more relaxed than it was during your first encounter. His blue eyes were just as arresting, but the absence of anger made them sparkle rather than burn. He had a soft dusting of stubble across his taut jawline, his dark hair was pulled back behind his head as he absent-mindedly ran a hand over it. He was…

…hot?

Fuck.

He nodded at you in acknowledgement and moved to George and Winnifred’s plot, kneeling in front of their stones. He pulled a candle out from his backpack and lit it with a lighter, placing it between where his parents lay.

You turned away sharply, not wanting to look like you were intruding during what was clearly a private moment of mourning. You focused on your own parents’ graves, clipping back the flowers as quietly as possible.

The two of you continued doing your own thing, the awkwardness thick in the air. You remembered how furious he’d been with you last time. You considered saying something, trying to explain that you were only trying to maintain the graves, but you didn’t want to provide any more ammunition for potential anger. Instead, you continued your routine in silence, keeping your eyes down.

After you finished you packed up your stuff and cleared your throat, ‘uh, bye,” you said quietly to him as you hurried down the path and back towards your car. He didn’t respond, but looked up at you as you passed, studying you intently.

[for-those-who-wait]

it hurts me to ask this, but how would blorbo!Hunter respond to the death of flapjack…

Blorbo Hunter has cat brain where he doesn't really have a complex thought process (there's another ask about this in my inbox that I'll answer once I doodle some more, I'll try to go more in-depth about it then) so I think it would be that situation where one of your pets passes and the other is confused about why their buddy isn't around anymore and why their owner is suddenly very sad

I would really like to make a comic about it but it would take a while and my brain is mush so, taking crack seriously, I think it would happen like this (very limited memory of what happens in the beginning of For the Future):

Blorbo Hunter is probably in somebody's pocket or bag for the whole altercation with Belos in Thanks to Them, so he didn't actually witness anything. Everyone is very torn up about it after they go through the portal, the blorbo is a little confused about why Hunter looks sad and weird, but he's just kind of chilling. Hunter can't really stand to look at the blorbo for a bit (something about anxiety about loss and wanting to distance himself emotionally as a coping mechanism) so he passes him off to Luz and the gang to watch over while he broods in the corner at the Owl House like normal. Blorbo Hunter is just hanging out, he's kind of wondering what's up since I think Flapjack would be as constant a presence for blorbo Hunter as he is for regular Hunter and he's similarly not used to not having that presence nearby. They are friends, they love each other, and he wants to know where his friend is!

I think blorbo Hunter has a little bit of a signal thing going where he'll make little gestures about things he wants (he just learned that Flapjack is more likely to interact with him if he opens his arms like he wants a hug, and he kept doing it). So the gang is familiar by now that when he splays his little arms out, he's referencing Flapjack. And he doesn't actually do that until they're all calming down, slowly trying to fall asleep at the Owl House, and he finally wriggles away to find Hunter (because he follows him absolutely freaking everywhere and he might as well have a natural homing beacon for that boy)

Hunter's not really trying to sleep, he's been Irreparably Traumatized, and blorbo Hunter climbs onto him and splays his arms out like "Where's Flapjack?" since Hunter usually knows where he is, and blorbo Hunter has associated Hunter with Flapjack appearing. Hunter isn't even sure if he should respond to that, because he knows by now that the blorbo just can't really understand the concept of loss like that. Hunter's probably tearing up a bit by now because of all the stress and emotions he's shoving down, and now he's got this innocent little thing looking up at him for guidance that he feels he's incapable of providing because Flapjack, the one thing the blorbo is asking for, is gone in a way that Hunter can't explain and the blorbo can't understand.

Blorbo Hunter, ever the cat, at least recognizes that Hunter's upset. The blorbo climbs up onto his chest, probably lays right up against his chin, and just sits there for the sake of closeness and an attempt at comfort. And for his part, I think Hunter would just grieve a lot about it because Flapjack was probably there to help him process even accepting blorbo Hunter in the first place (I think Flapjack would immediately love the blorbo and would have to spend a long time convincing Hunter to give him a chance as well), and now he's left with the guilt of having initially disliked the blorbo and also killing his friend. Like "I killed Flapjack with the hand that I am currently using to try and comfort this weird clone-cat-creature he was friends with, I'm so incredibly messed up and terrible for this."

This child can fit so much trauma and self-hatred in him holy crap

ANYWAY sorry for the ramble, hopefully that answers the question, thank you for asking it :))

[michanvalentine]

Some of my favorite lines—among the saddest—that Astarion has ever said. Every time I hear them, delivered so perfectly by Neil, my heart aches. I'm sharing them with you because my husband can't take hearing me talk about Astarion and Baldur's Gate anymore!

"It’s what you want, isn’t it? To lose yourself in me." There’s an entire world behind this line: the expression on his face, the tone of his voice. There’s sadness and resignation. This is how things work—this is who he is. The person in front of him is no different from the others, just another one who wants to lose themselves in him, use him for their own pleasure, and then move on as if nothing happened. Not only that, but it's also the same old charade used to deliver unsuspecting victims to the slaughter. The same old script, one he’s tired of, one that causes him pain. His eyes grow sad as he says it, his shoulders sink, his lips curve downward, and everything about him exudes bitterness. In that moment, amidst sweet words and sensual movements, the real Astarion comes out, carrying all the heavy baggage he’s been burdened with.

"Maybe, but did he take it." Cazador is dead, Astarion won, he’s alive, and he’s free. But the death of his tormentor didn’t turn back time, the death of the monster didn’t undo the damage or return what was stolen. It’s a powerful, terrifying, and painful realization, especially when you think about how these things—these parts of Astarion—were taken and erased. Because what is gone wasn’t just lost—it was replaced with suffering, shame, anger, hatred, and horrific experiences. These are memories that will stay with him for the rest of his un-life, memories he’ll have to battle every single day.

"All right, I’ll do it." The way he says it, after Tav/Durge delves into his mind and uses his greatest fear against him, is utterly heartbreaking. Once again, there’s resignation, but there’s also fear and, worst of all, a hint of submission. In that moment, Tav/Durge is the embodiment of Cazador. They bring back his most horrifying experience, fill him with pure terror, and remind him of how useless, weak, and pathetic he is—unable to defend himself. It makes him feel small again, lost, and willing to do anything just to feel safe. And this is coming from the very person who, up until that moment (unless the player is a complete sociopath xP), had been helping him regain a shred of self-worth and independence. It’s truly a low blow, a betrayal—especially because Astarion depends on Tav/Durge, much like he depended on Cazador, but in a positive way instead of a negative one. They force him, against his will, to do something he doesn’t want to do, and with that statement, Astarion seems to be saying, “Yes, master.”

"I didn’t know how to say no." This one is heartbreaking too, it hits right in the heart. It really hurts, especially in context, but also in general. Saying "no" is a fundamental right of every free individual. But Astarion doesn’t say that he can’t say no—he says he doesn’t know how to say it. And that’s truly sad, because at this point, it’s no longer just an external imposition; it’s something internalized. And of course, it goes without saying that here too, Tav/Durge took advantage of Astarion—of his inability to defend himself, to immediately recognize and stop behavior that should be shut down at the first sign because it’s harmful to him. Once again, Tav/Durge betrays him in the worst way, right after an agonizing confession, no less—Astarion opens up and admits to having very real struggles with sex.

Do you have any favorite lines too? Obviously, there are a billion more funny ones, but I’m afraid I’d need an entire day to write down all my favorites. I just love this little shit too much. xD

[carionto]

What Humans call the "Thousand Yard Stare"

As more and more Humans interact with and integrate within Coalition stations, reports, closer to hushed whispers really, began to circulate of some Humans being... discomforting... to be around.

Initially we thought it was just rudeness or passive aggressive behavior or any number of subtle actions or choice of words, no matter how advanced or civilized there will always be some assholes.

However, when some of these "offenders" were presented to us peacekeepers, we found them to be perfectly polite and reasonable. As our conversation continued and shifted topics, whenever there was a lull or the focus was on another speaker for a longer time, the Human's gaze drifted somewhat.

Sometimes she would look to the side and it was harder to tell what her exact expression was, but every so often she would be looking at one of us, but... not. It was as if she was staring at something behind us, through us even. Beyond the walls of the station, it even felt as though beyond space and time itself.

It was one of the most unnerving and chitin-chilling feelings we've ever felt, but then the Human seemed to notice our change and became that friendly and cheerful person once again:

"Sorry, my mind drifted there for a bit. What were you saying?"

And the conversation continued as if nothing was out of the ordinary for the Human.

Upon our return to our office, one of the Human peacekeepers heard about our impromptu assignment and offered this explanation after we told him what happened:

"Oh yeah, I think that person was a retired firefighter or rescue worker of some kind. Professions like that can be dangerous and you'll eventually encounter something horrible at a disaster site or crime scene. Probably saw someone die, or a person they rescued later didn't make it, or it was a kid... It's the toughest when you're the last one a child sees before..."

There it is again. That look, but with a tinge of sadness this time. We didn't know he was carrying such memories. The untimely death of anyone is a difficult time for those that survive, especially when it is the young whose life was still just starting. It seems Humans with their heightened senses and sensitivity to the feelings of others these kind of experiences imprint a far stronger memory than for most.

"Anyway, we've got a bunch of names for such things, but typically we call it the thousand yard stare. It's an old measurement unit, don't worry about it. I think the meaning may have changed a bit over the years, but basically some people go through traumatic stuff and they decide, consciously or not, to sort of... detach themselves from reality. It's a coping mechanism.

A few people thrive on horrible things, but they're the exception. Most of us would go crazy or depressed or any other infinite bad possibilities our brains can go in if we don't find a way to separate ourselves from certain realities. It can get real bad otherwise. It's rare, but a few go truly nuts and try to inflict their pain unto others. Most end up suffering alone for a long time. And some can't take it anymore and decide to end it themselves.

Thankfully therapists and support options are widely available, so those kind of scenarios are really rare, like... suicide accounts for about three out of a hundred thousand deaths last time I saw those charts. Plus drones and automation take care of most of the dangerous tasks, leaving the vast majority of cases to be caused by interpersonal relations actually. A broken heart is one of those traumas we'll never get rid of it seems. That's just life, I guess."

[secriden]

I always love your posts about THK and your recently pinned post and another one about Style yearning for skinship are just *chef's kiss*. So thank you for your analysis!

I saw some comments on tumblr that Style was acting as if he's sad and playing Fadel and I just could NOT agree, so I was glad to see your post. My opinion on Style's crying scene is I don't think Style meant to cry at first, but his emotions sort of overwhelmed him while he was talking. I think he definitely uses his cheerful disassocation with reality to deal with fear and he was just going to tell his message to his dad just in case, perhaps in a more lighthearted way, but he remembered about his mom and the reality of potential death hit him fully because his mother's death must be the closest death he'd experienced in his life. And when Fadel asked him if he was crying he just said Duh and wasn't fully crying, but after Fadel told him to stop the sob story, he turned back and the tears really started flowing. When I saw that I could really relate to him because that's how I usually act too- act nonchalant to hide my real feelings. Style wasn't planning to get emotional and then got mocked for it - and he was also denied his s*xual advances/skinship earlier too- that must've felt really hurtful to him.

As much as the scene hurts, I'm glad to see this was not cut because even cheerful, positive people like Style really gets down sometimes and people don't really understand this, even in real life! I was kind of like this when younger and had some people tell me they can't imagine me feeling sad or nervous. So seeing Style's rare serious and emotional side in the story is really made me kind of acknowledged? When I started watching this show, I didn't think I would get this attached to this character. He's like a ray of sunshine, very pure in his beliefs and quite fiercely loyal too (might be weird to say when he was complicit but he is actually loyal to both Kant and Fadel to the best of his ablities IMO) and the actor/Dunk is absolutely killing this role! Not just the crying scene in this episode, but Dunk's comedic timing in delivering the one liners is SO GOOD he manages to make me laugh every single episode so far.

Lovely anon, oh thank you for sharing so vulnerably about how you related to Style in that scene. I really agree with you that Style wasn't putting on an act to fool Fadel. I'm very surprised to hear that anyone still thinks Style is playing Fadel at this point?? O_O I don't think anything he does this episode is an act anymore -- even when he propositions Fadel with a shirt tossed into his face, there's clear and genuine intent behind it:

There's so much going on in this look. The gentle fondness as he gazes back at Fadel, the way the look seeks to communicate affection even as Fadel is glaring back in anger and frustration. But there's acceptance too, like he understands why Fadel is keeping his walls up, he understands why Fadel feels he deserves some of this harshness and he will let Fadel take the time he needs to come to whatever conclusions he wants to as long as Fadel does so with the understanding that Style's love for him is genuine.

Because at the end of the day the only thing Style really doesn't want is for Fadel to make his choice (to forgive or to cut Style off) thinking that Style's feelings are still a lie. I think that's the crux of the problem between them now: Fadel is pushing Style away because he is certain Style’s feelings aren’t true, and have never been true, but Style knows his own heart and understands the fundamental shift inside him that occurred over the course of their relationship.

Which is why I think Style is genuine in everything he’s showing Fadel now. Even if he didn’t mean to cry, I think his worry for his dad is very real. And I think the reason why he brings it up with Fadel is that Style is done hiding anything from him now. It’s not about manipulation, nor is it an attempt to make Fadel feel guilty. But he's taking everything Fadel is giving to him incredibly seriously and part of that is facing the possibility that Fadel may decide to kill him at the end after all. And that's... scary; hell its terrifying and heartbreaking and Style has understandable guilt related to how losing him after losing his mother is going to affect his dad.

And actually what you're saying about "cheerful and positive people like Style" also sometimes feeling down is such an important aspect of understanding Style's character. Because we can only really understand the weight of Style’s love for Fadel if we see him in all his multifaceted complexity: Style has suffered, Style understands the pain of loss but has learned to find joy in his life in the process of dealing with his mother’s passing. Styles cheerfulness and positively is not a sign of his immaturity or lack of complexity but rather evidence of a inner strength and determination to find meaning in life beyond the sadness. After my dad passed, it took me nearly 4 years to even get to a point where I began to want to want to find pockets of happiness. There was so much about me at the time time bound up in my feelings of loss and sadness and the ache of missing my dad, the unfairness of it all. Style is-- Style is so very precious to me.

And something I found really poignant is how Fadel and Style have such opposing methods of dealing with grief and fear. Fadel hides from it, runs from it, builds up walls and remains ever vigilante so he'll never be vulnerable again, while Style faces his grief and his fear head on. Style takes his fear out and holds it in the palm of his hand and in the process - like you said - maybe found himself more overwhelmed then he expected, but he allows himself the space to cry because he also sees that its important in the moment. And he invites Fadel into that vulnerability with him. That's insane to me -- Style's love for Fadel means that even when Fadel has a gun to his head and is the source of his fear, Fadel is always orientated on the INSIDE to Style.

To extend the allegory, the difference between them is that Fadel's love made him invite Style inside his walls as an outsider, but Style's love makes Fadel already part of him. Fadel doesn't need an invitation because at no point in episode 8 did Style ever treat Fadel as anything but an extension of his own heart.

So yeah, I'm so with you about being grateful for the scene. I think it maybe could have been shot differently (for instance, I kind of wish they'd just let Dunk do his thing and sell the moment without having that background music 180 degree shift), but I adore it for what it shows us about Style and the way he thinks and feels, and most of all the way Fadel is oriented in his heart.

[minarinnn]

content/trigger warnings: angst, tlt spoilers!!, slight manipulation, yelling, aggression, implied relationship, inspired on favorite crime but not really that noticiable

you knew. you knew from the start that luke was the lighting thief. even worse, you helped him.

you knew that it was wrong, that he was wrong. that the path he was taking wasn’t the right one. but how could you tell him that when he so lovingly asked you to help him with his plan??

it was torture for you, having to keep such a thing from everybody at camp. watching the new kid, who seemed so sweet and innocent, be blamed for it and sent on a dangerous quest. one that would likely kill him. then finding out from luke that they suspect clarisse, one of your closest friends, to be the lighting thief.

“luke, hasn’t this gone too far? i mean, what if something bad happens to clarisse??” you asked, completely worried for your friend. afraid of the god’s wrath, for they are not know for showing mercy. “too far?” luke scoffed, turning to look at you “you wanna be a slave for the gods until you drop dead?”. he was clearly offended by your statement. “there’s bound to be collateral damage”

you sat in a secluded part of the forest, barely crossing the camp border. everyone was celebrating percy’s accomplishment, y’know, stopping the war and all. luke had told you to wait there, he didn’t tell you what he was going to do, he never did. but you sure knew what you were gonna do.

it was time to get away from this mess. even if it meant losing luke, you didn’t wanna be a part of this. and to be completely honest, you’re not sure that was your luke anymore. he’d gotten so different, and you were so worried when you first noticed the change. but after he told you and asked you to join him, could you really say no?

what seemed to be a portal opened up from a nearby tree, luke stepped out of it. he was panicked, almost scared, sweat rolled down his forehead and his eyes were almost glossy. you got up so fast it was almost instinct. “luke?” “we’re leaving, right now” he spoke urgently, frantically looking around.

“i’m not going with you, luke” you felt your breath escaping your body. luke froze, as if he couldn't believe what he had just heard. his eyes are practically glued onto your face now, even more hurt than they were a moment ago. “what?” he breathed out, eyes and eyebrows narrowing at you in disbelief.

“i don't want to turn my back on my friends and watch them suffer" you could feel a lump building in your throat as you stare back at luke. "i know how much this hurts, believe me. but this path you're taking it’s.. it's not the right one. and deep down, i think you know that too..”.

luke’s face contorts into a mixture of pain and anger. "you’re wrong" he spat out "you don't understand. we’re fighting for something bigger than ourselves. we’re fighting for our freedom” you took a step back, trying to protect yourself from his anger and desperation. "i understand that" you said “but i just don’t think that this is the way to do it. you’re hurting people, people who used to be your friends.. you're putting yourself in danger”

luke let out a bitter laugh, his hands clenching into fists, knuckles practically white. "danger?" he scoffed "danger is all around us— we’re demigods, for heaven's sake! danger is part of our life. but at least i’m doing something about it, instead of just sitting back and waiting for inevitable death”

you shook your head, tears threatening to spill from your glossy eyes. luke stares back at you in and his eyes soften, his expression shifting from anger to sadness. "why do you have to make this so hard?" he whispers, voice breaking slightly “just come with me and we’ll finally be free from all of th-“ "i can't be a part of this anymore, luke.. i’m sorry”

"i thought you loved me" he spoke with sadness and bitterness in his voice, taking a step closer to you while his eyes travels through yours. “i do love you” you exclaim, tested finally streaming down your cheeks “and that’s exactly why i cant watch you do this to yourself”

luke’s expression froze as he processed your response. he was clearly hurt, but perhaps more so by the realization that he had lost your support. he had been so sure that you would choose to go with him, that you would stand by his side no matter what. but now he saw the hesitation in your eyes, the resolve within you.

"i see..” he says, voice barely above a whisper. his hands travel up to the side of your face and he pulls you in for one final kiss. the kiss is sweet yet the only thing you could both feel was regret, regret of leaving the person you love most behind.

“stay.. please, stay” you whisper. his sad eyes answer for him, and you close your eyes in disappointment. "i’ll miss you” he added, kissing the top of your head.

luke turned and disappeared through the portal, leaving you alone in the forest. as he walked away, you catch’d a glimpse of tears in his eyes, but he didn’t look back. you feel a pit in your stomach, a mix of guilt and anger, as you stand alone in the forest, unsure of what to do next. in your point of view, you were just collateral damage to him.

© MINARINNN 2024 - please do not plagiarize or upload my content on any social media platform.

[mulletmitsuya]

Toman Captains + BajiFuyuTora Groupchat

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, mentions of substances, mentions of PTSD

Desc: Baji tries to make a polycule work with some heavy convincing

Baji: alr guys, i'm gonna ask Fuyu and Tora out on a date at the same time

Mitsuya: that's not gonna work

Draken: don't they hate each other? just pick one

Baji: no i'm in love with the both of them so i'm gonna ask both of them out

Baji: also they actually have feelings for each other but haven't realized it yet

Draken: you're pushing it

Smiley: first of all, Kazutora likes women

Baji: no, he has feelings for me but he hasn't realized it yet

Smiley: alright man

Mikey: Baji, your chances are better with Chifuyu. sort that out first because you're gonna ruin the entire friendgroup dynamic with this shit😟

Baji: we're not a friendgroup, we're lovers

Mikey: i'm talking about us, dipshit

Baji: who

Mikey: everyone who isn't Chifuyu and Kazutora??

Baji: idgaf

Mikey: ayt

Pah: weren't we your treasures or smth 🧐?

Baji: i've moved on to bigger things

Baji: smaller twinks

Baji: you get me?

Smiley: Chifuyu's short but he's not a twink.

Smiley: now Kazutora, we can call a twink

Smiley: you guys are using this word wrong

Mikey: it's it just a skinny guy?

Smiley: "a gay or effeminate man, or a young man, regarded as an object of homosexual desire, usually a bottom. they are attractive and slim in appearance."

Draken: this is just Mitsuya

Mikey: 🧐

Mitsuya: ?

Smiley: that is correct but i didn't wanna say anything cause that twink got hands🤷‍♂️

Mikey: now that i think about it, Mitsuya used to be kinda built. not buff but not skinny. fuck happened

Pah: Draken died

Pah: "died"

Baji: so he stopped eating? lame

Mitsuya: do you guys get how mourning works

Draken: well i'm good now so let's get this grub 🗣

Draken: sorry for making you sad, brother

Draken: it's my mission to bulk you up again

Mitsuya: i'm fine👍

Mikey: no one dying is going to get in between me and a meal😭🙏

Mikey: skill issue on Mitsuya's part

Smiley: skill issue is when your friend dies and you go into a depression so deep that you can't even eat anymore

Mikey: that's what i'm saying❗

Smiley: leave it up to Draken to get shot 3 times in the chest and just walk it off

Smiley: that was kinda hard tho

Draken: thanks👍

Draken: it hurt really bad

Draken: i think it traumatized me

Draken: i can't go to amusement parts now. or listen to fireworks cause i'll start hallucinating shit that happened from that night. weird

Mitsuya: ...that's called ptsd

Baji: yeah man you have ptsd

Draken: what's ptsd

Baji: PTSDEEZ NUTS LMAOOOOOOO

Baji: GOT EM

Draken: i wish your suicide attempt worked you mentally challenged, wanna be werewolf, loreal shampoo ad looking ass bitch

Baji: BANG BANG BANG💣💥💣💥💣💥

Mikey: DUDE💀

Baji: do you guys get it

Baji: it's the gunshots

Baji: because he has PTSD

Baji: 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Draken: do you remember how you killed Shinichiro

Baji: 😐

Mikey: GUYS💀

Draken: i'm sorry Mikey

Draken: but

Draken: Baji do you remember when you were screaming his name and watched him bleed to death

Smiley: ☠️

Draken: the skull represent Shinichiro, who you killed

Baji: anyway

Baji: back to my kittens

Baji: before Draken decided to take shit too far😒

Draken: when you go low I'll go lower

Baji: cause you were almost 6 feet under???

Draken: where you put Shinichiro??

Baji: ANYWAY

Mikey: Ken-chin he's gonna kill himself again😔

Draken: that is exactly the point

Baji: HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY ANYWAY

Baji: anyway

Baji: back to the topic at hand 😐

Baji: i'm doing it tonight

Mitsuya: ahem

Mitsuya: do you know how awkward it's gonna be when Kazutora rejects you? we don't wanna have to deal with that

Baji: he won't reject me

Mikey: your delusional

Baji: can you guys name a situation in which things didn't work out for me?

Baji: no you can't

Mitsuya: 1) Bloody Halloween??

Draken: 2) Your grades🤨?

Mikey: 3) Not making your mom cry🤔?

Baji: ...

Baji: those don't count

Smiley: it's so hard trying to talk to stupid people

Smiley: he doesn't use logic at all

Draken: Baji don't fucking ask them out

Mikey: ask Chifuyu!!! that f slur is obsessed with you😍

Draken: don't say that word😐

Mikey: i literally didn't say it😭

Mitsuya: Baji please just think for literally one second

Baji: too late cause i just texted them

Mitsuya: omfg

Mikey: you fool😞

Mikey: what did you say??

Baji: i went to our groupchat

Baji: "yo let's cut the bullshit. i'm in love with the both of you so why don't we all date and love each other in a relationship with all three of us and shit"

Baji: i sent that

Smiley: you're very... direct

Smiley: i'll give you that

Smiley: Kazutora's gonna say no

Draken: obviously

Baji: bet

Baji's kittens:

Kazutora: Chifuyu can you please change the fucking groupchat name

Kazutora: i know you and Baji do kinky shit together but i am NOT anybody's kitten

Chifuyu: but Baji-san changed it and i can't change it back if he doesn't want me to

Chifuyu: and Baji-san and i do not do "kinky shit"

Chifuyu: we don't have a sexual relationship😐

Kazutora: you have free will mothefucker!! you don't need his fucking permission

Kazutora: is he your dom or something😭

Kazutora: why are so obsessed with him jesus

Kazutora: you guys are gay af

Chifuyu: just because i don't stab my friends doesn't mean i'm gay

Chifuyu: i just respect him a lot cause he's cool 😒

Chifuyu: nothing you'd know about

Chifuyu: you psychopath

Kazutora: you slobber on his dick all day

Kazutora: "Baji-san!!! What a cool kick!! Can you teach me😁?"

Kazutora: you might as well just ask him to put it in

Chifuyu: shut the fuck up all you've ever known are the prison walls that enclosed you

Kazutora: NOT ANYMORE😁

Baji: ladies, ladies

Baji: there's enough to go around 😏

Baji: ew. alright i'm never using that emoji again what the fuck

Kazutora: CHANGE THE GROUPCHAT NAME

Baji: no

Kazutora: you and Chifuyu can do your pet play somewhere else please leave me out of it 🙏

Baji: nuh uh

Baji: you're a tiger

Baji: tigers are cats

Baji: so you're a kitten

Baji: done deal

Kazutora: i'm an adult tiger not a kitten😐

Baji: i'm the alpha and you and Chifuyu are my omega's

Kazutora: what the fuck does that mean????

Chifuyu: haha Baji-san😂

Kazutora: i've never seen someone ride someone else's meat so hard before holy shit

Chifuyu: if you don't understand what respect is, just say that 🙄

Baji: don't lie Chifuyu

Baji: you're in love with me

Kazutora: LMFAOOOOOOOOO

Baji: you are too Kazutora

Kazutora: 🤨

Baji: yo let's cut the bullshit. i'm in love with the both of you so why don't we all date and love each other in a relationship with all three of us and shit

Baji: you guys are in love with each other too just by the way

Kazutora: what

Kazutora: that's not how anything works

Chifuyu: Baji-san i ask again is this a prank 🤣🤣🤣

Kazutora: it has to be cause i'm not a boy kisser like you mfs

Baji: Kazutora be fr. you just got out of prison, you're clinically insane, you're on parole, people feel unsettled by your presence, you have an ankle bracelet, you belong to the state, you have mommy AND daddy issues, you've killed someone

Kazutora: damn

Kazutora: you didn't have to list it like that

Baji: all i'm saying is that i'm your best option because i don't care about all of this and i'll take care of you for the rest of your life even tho you're crazy

Baji: cause i love you (gayly)

Baji: you could even stab me again

Chifuyu: NO

Baji: Chifuyu shut the up i'll get to you babe

Chifuyu: yes Baji-san

Kazutora: "yes daddy😩😍"

Kazutora: what the fuck dude you could least try to hide it 💀

Baji: can u focus

Kazutora: oh right

Kazutora: what about gay sex tho

Baji: i'll teach you

Kazutora: but you have a dick

Baji: uhhhh

Baji: fine you can use yours

Baji: nah nevermind i'm not a bottom

Baji: fuck you

Kazutora: i didn't even say anything

Kazutora: but whatever ig

Kazutora: i'm not gonna be with Chifuyu tho😐

Baji: you are

Kazutora: 😒

Baji: Chifuyu we've been in love for years so i know you'll say yes. just needed to convince Tora babygirl

Chifuyu: but is this a prank tho🤣🤣

Baji: no

Baji: you are my boyfriend now

Baji: both of you come over

Kazutora: ughhhhhhhhhhhhh

Kazutora: fine

Chifuyu: are the both of you pranking me🤣😂

Baji: just come over you fucking idiot

Baji: that was too mean

Baji: please come over you fucking idiot❤

Captains:

Baji: they said yes and we're all about to have sex now

Mikey: you're just gonna lie Baji

Draken: should i get beers? you can cry if you want i won't even laugh at you

Draken: i promise

Mikey: you're just gonna lie Ken-chin

Mitsuya: what did they actually say

Baji: they're coming over? and we're about to make love? are you guys dumb 🤨

Baji: it worked out how i said it would

Smiley: Draken gets the beers i'll get the cigarettes

Smiley: Baji we tried to tell you

Draken: don't piss me off cause you know i don't smoke

Draken: you're gonna influence Angry into an early grave

Draken: do you want your brother to have lung cancer

Smiley: chill

Smiley: Angry tried a cigarette and almost died

Smiley: so you don't have to worry about that

Smiley: fine i'll bring weed instead

Mitsuya: where are you getting drugs😐

Smiley: my plug, duh 😁

Mikey: can i have a weed as well please

Smiley: idk man what if your dark impulses come out or something

Mikey: my therapist said that only happens with specific triggers so it's fine

Mikey: plus i have a shock collar in case that happens

Draken: i don't think that's normal 🤨

Baji: you guys are pissing me off

Mikey: dude it's fine we can comfort you even tho we told you so

Draken: i'm gonna be the better man and forgive you since you've just been rejected

Baji: yk what idgaf

Baji: i'ma just nut in my kittens

Baji: bye losers

Baji: no one does it like i do

Mikey: poor thing🙁

[mins-fins]

ANGEL EYES. — [L.MH] [PREVIEW]

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

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

PAIRING: mark lee x male!reader

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

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

WORD COUNT: 2.7k (preview) | ..pending (full fic)

NOTES: hello everyone, this is my baby, the birth was very special, i love my baby so much 💗 listen! i started this in early august and i am STILL going, this going to be LONG.. longest mins-fins work ever long 😞 im estimating 30–40k, the power of mark lee yall 😇 it's going to go on forever, and it's definitely going to be sad in some ways, i am currently about to hit 20k words.. sooooiooooo 😊😊 i hope you like this preview bc i really dk when the real thing is coming out 😭😭 im in so much pain rn, let me nap now 😴

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 heard 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's 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.