#also one time my friends had a powerpoint night and my one friend's was like “Top 5 most homophobic and Top 5 gayest disney princesses”

[lesbianamalvada]

how you feel about bisexual people saying they’re gay

I don't like it when people use gay as an umbrella term because it's literally not. I know one bi girl who always went "i'm sooo gayy" and I'm like "I thought u were bi??" and she was like "it's just simpler to say gay". I really don't get how though? Bi and queer are the same amount of syllables as gay. To me it's more confusing if ur talking about how gay you are and then people see you with a boyfriend/girlfriend. I guess it's not that big of a deal but it's def a pet peeve of mine and rubs me the wrong way.

#also one time my friends had a powerpoint night and my one friend's was like “Top 5 most homophobic and Top 5 gayest disney princesses” #really stupid I know #and the top 3 were like "I see her as bi #I see her as pan #I see her as aro/ace and I'm like “none of that is gay” and she's like #“it's an umbrella term” and she's not even lgbt herself (well she identified as ace back then and then bi and now says she's straight) so i #just rubbed me the wrong way that she called it an umbrella term because it's not idk why this bothers me so much though #if any bisexuals follow me can you explain this? or say why you like/don't like it. I want to hear the bi perspective on this #also anon I meant to ask this first thing in the tags but what do you think? #thanks for the ask! #anon ask #lgbtq discourse

[jellipuff]

Pretty.

Pairing: Sub!Mingyu x reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut (18+, Minors dni!).

Wordcount: 4.2k

Summary: His interest in you was shocking. Star player Mingyu crushing on you? Who knew two years later that calling him pretty was all that was needed for him to fall deeper and who knew for him to get his way all he had to be was pretty? Short answer: you both knew.

Warnings: sub!mingyu!!, established relationship, football player mingyu, idk if this is gn!reader but i don’t think i mention anything too gender-related, Slight pwp, this is literally just reader fingerfucking Gyu with a side of fluff, anal play (m receiving), he's so spoiled, and a lil slutty, reader records them, slight exhibitionism(no one walks in but there are people in the house while they do this), mingyu just can't be quiet no matter how much he tries to say he can :(, reader teases gyu bc he’s cute, he just wants to be called pretty 24/7. (i think that's it?)

A/n: this is my first time writing in forever & my first time writing for svt. I can barely find any sub!svt fics especially mingyu so I thought let me write em myself 🙄. I hope its okay though LOL. also if you don't like it, don't read‼️ No need to burn me at the stake friend. Feedback is appreciated :)

You and Mingyu have been together since sophomore year. You both go to the same college and shared a few classes that year. Classes that weren't too important but important enough for it to affect your grade, school is just like that.

You heard about him in freshman year. He was admired by those around him for his athleticism in football. Quickly becoming one of the best players resulting in him being liked by not only his team but others as well. You didn't really know him then though, not caring to honestly. He was a wonderful football player, the crowd around him either being the same or being interested in it. 

Oh, and interested in him.  

Mingyu is a stunner, his looks giving him many opportunities in more ways than one. You would hear about how good in bed he was from people talking a bit too loudly in a library. When you’d go to parties with your friends you'd also see how people would try to get his attention. You’d watch as women threw themselves at him in hopes of being the one he takes to bed that night.

So you could see how you were surprised when he seemed to show interest in you.

You're not knocking yourself, you're beautiful and your personality shines just as much. It's just you and mingyu don't seem to have any compatibility if the things you know about him are anything to go by. “He manhandled me so well”, “Our first date was to see the new Fast & Furious.”, “He's so handsome.”

Sure none of those things are bad per se. You just know yourself well enough to know that when you think about mingyu just a little longer than you should that you want to manhandle him.

That if you were to go on a first date you'd want to take him to a cat cafe just to see how this puppy of a man would interact with them. That when you look at mingyu you know he is handsome but you can only seem to think he’s so pretty. 

When you got paired together in two of your classes for a project you didn't know if you were fine with it or not. You don't know his work ethic or how his grades are, he shows up to class every day but does he actually care about his grades?

Though as he smiled brightly on his way over to you when your names were called together for the second time that day, you didn't seem to care too much about any of those things.

“Seems like fate huh?” he says with a grin as he sits by you. “What does?” you ask while pulling up a blank PowerPoint. “Us being a couple.” he says flirtatiously and you can't help but give him a look. “You mean us being project partners.” you reprimand but he waves you off.

“Same thing as what I said, either way, it happened twice. So that means it's fate.” he says taking your pink glitter pen to write both your names on the paper you were given. You watch as he draws a little smiling puppy and then a grumpy cat side by side underneath. He turns to you with a pretty smile, pleased at his artwork.

“Look it's us! You’re the grumpy cat.” he giggles and you think if he weren't so cute you'd tell him to find a different partner. Yet you don't tell him that nor do you tell him that this professor only allows blue or black ink.

You think that's the first time you realized maybe you got mingyu all wrong. Maybe he isn't just a jock who watches Fast and Furious and is strong in bed. You also realize this another time. 

You and mingyu were doing your meet-up at his place. When he told you he has roommates you almost wanted to cancel on him. An apartment lived in by men sadly only filled your mind with overthinking.

What if it stunk? What if his room was messy? What if his roommates were creepy? You'd like to think mingyu wouldn't let them be weird toward you and that sedates your worries slightly. 

As you walk into his place though you’re met with the smell of food cooking and shouting in the living room. Walking in further you see a game of Mario Kart being played and the smell is from the spaghetti being cooked by a man who smiles when he sees Mingyu. 

The atmosphere was nice, leaving you to relax a bit from before. Mingyu introduced you to them all, telling them you're going into his room to work on a project not to fuck as his friend Seungkwan had joked. The way mingyu seemed to be flustered at his friend's joke is what leaves you amused.

The thought of him getting shy at being accused of something he is apparently good at and known for is cute. You learn the man cooking is Joshua, and you compliment him on the smell. He laughs; thanking you before saying “For once Mingyu’s crush has good taste.” he teases and Mingyu freezes. 

He looks at you with wide eyes cheeks flushing at Joshua's slip of the tongue. “He’s just joking like he jokes like that a lot you know.” he hurries to say and you feel amused. “Uh huh.” you reply and Mingyu feels the need to make you believe he does not like you because what if you find that weird? You haven't shown interest in him at all.

“Yeah, he's dumb you know cause like I could never have a crush on you so what is he even saying?” he finishes with an awkward laugh. He doesn't see the way your smile falls and the way Joshua watches the whole thing unfold in horror. Feeling the need to check if his tall friend hit his head somewhere.

When mingyu does look back at you though he's met with a look he can't read but one that makes him feel like he wants to sink into the floor. “Let's just get this over with okay?” you say coldly and he feels like crying.

Sure he can handle heavy tackles, can handle sometimes getting bad grades, and can handle everyone thinking of him in ways that he isn’t. Right here and right now though? Mingyu realizes he can't handle feeling anything from you that isn't your usual warm sarcasm or soft smile. He realizes that seeing you dismiss him so seriously hurts him, it makes him small in a bad way. 

So when you both get to his room and work in silence he thinks he'd rather die from embarrassment at the confession he's going to give than die from the pain of having you not glance his way once in the past hour. 

“Um..you know I didn't mean that.” You don't look up when you hum in confusion instead focusing on the information you’re typing. “When I said that I could never have a crush on you I…I didn’t mean that because I do…have a crush on you.” he admits shyly but he doesn't look away. Needing you to understand that what he said earlier couldn't be further from true. 

For what seems like forever you finally look at him and just your gaze makes his stomach feel funny. You stare at him, watching him try his hardest to not look away. Seeing his hands fidget from you observing him silently.

You think that right now mingyu looks the prettiest he ever has. His eyes not leaving yours to show his sincerity, blush covering from his ears to his cheeks, and knees to his chest. Leaving his feelings on the table must be scary for him. You know how mingyu feels about this.

He’s told you a few times how people always think they know what he likes, how he feels, and what he thinks. So he never says them, and never is honest with those who aren't close to him. Knowing that with others it's more like they set up what he should like, feel, and think. 

Mingyu watches you smile, the warmest one he’s seen from you. Just that alone has him feeling better and then you shock him. “You're so pretty Gyu.” you say with so much admiration he short circuits.

Pretty? You think he's pretty? He's handsome he knows that everyone always tells him that but.. Pretty? Mingyu has never been associated with that and he feels fuzzy at it.

“Pretty?” he questions aloud and you hum with no hesitation “So pretty.” you repeat and mingyu suddenly feels shy, feeling the need to giggle. “You like being called pretty?” you ask endeared and he nods scooting closer to you. “Yeah, I like it.”

─﹒☆﹒─

However, dating mingyu for two years has left you being pleasantly surprised constantly. So when you figure out your boyfriend wants you to take him here with people around, you think for what feels like the millionth time that you’re surprised again.

You hear the laughter and bickering outside of the room. The only thing blocking you from all of the noise is the bedroom door or should you say that the door is the only thing blocking them from you.

Your attention is only focused on the boy who has your shirt fisted tightly as he brings you down to kiss him deeper. You feel him trying to bring his groin closer to your thigh but failing because you keep it too far. He whines again after another failed attempt at feeling something against him. 

You pull back from the kiss with a grin, adoration all you feel for the pretty boy beneath you. “No, want more kisses.” he mewls, trying to pull you back down but you don't budge. “But kisses weren't part of the deal, baby.” You remind him and he looks away annoyed at the agreement he agreed to. 

Here on a trip with your boyfriends teammates, friends and some of their partners was a joy. Loving being able to go with him somewhere different even if it's not too far from home. It's the fun that comes from enjoying time with him and being able to see him be complimented by his team.

His efforts and talent being highlighted always leave him with high cheeks that glow from smiling too hard. They all are happy right now. Winning games back to back with a few struggles they overcame felt like a blessing.

Just like having Mingyu underneath you with his cock leaking from just a few kisses is a blessing.

Having to split up into two Airbnbs leaves you and Mingyu with others in the house. Mingyu knew that yet he kept trying to gain your attention. He knew he already had it but he wanted your attention in another way. 

You first caught onto his little game when he wore a pair of shorts that he knew you loved on him. The way they hug his hips and leave little to imagine at his thighs never fails to make you want to take him right there.

The thing is though Mingyu only wears those in your apartment. He never wears them anywhere else so there would be no need for him to pack them. 

When he noticed you staring at him while he looked through the dresser for something he smiled at you before quickly changing. Saying ‘Oh must have accidentally packed these.” While laughing. Yet the throbbing in your core wasn't funny at all.

“Don't be annoyed baby, you were the one to agree, no?” You ask; sliding his underwear down his legs. “Yeah, but I didn't think you’d be this mean.” You smile, enjoying his sulking.

“Mean? Weren't you the one stringing me along all day baby? Until you finally caved in from your own game. Dragging me to the bathroom just begging for me to play with you. And what did I say?” you question watching his ears flush. 

“You..you said only if you get to do what you want.” he replies, causing you to smile. “Mhmm and you said I could do anything I wanted, touch you wherever I would like. Do you remember where I said I wanted to touch you?” you ask and he goes quiet, feeling shy. 

He doesn’t answer, head still turned away from you. That just won't do, will it? 

You grab his chin, turning his face so he can look at you. “Where did I say I wanted to touch Mingyu?” you repeat harsher. Needing to hear him say it out loud. His eyes stay locked on yours before he says “My butt.” he says quietly and you hum, feeling turned on by how he seems so bashful despite this not being abnormal for you both. 

“Good boy. You dragged me to the bathroom just to be told I want to see you spread open for me. You wanna know why?” he nods, wanting to hear you tell him. Yet he feels so needy he beats you to it. “Cause it's pretty, you said I'm prettiest when I take you well.” he answers for you. 

You pat his cheek before moving down the bed. “That's right baby, so pretty when you're full of me. So pretty when you take anything I give you.”

You wish mingyu would have packed your strap, would have thought to bring at least a dildo in his lust-hazed mind but he didn't. So you'll just have to finger fuck him until you feel satisfied.

You grab the lube that Mingyu didn't forget to pack while leaning down to kiss him. “Color?” you ask and he smiles. “Green, just wish I could take something bigger” he pouts and you laugh softly at the confession. “Then you wouldn't be able to be quiet, so be thankful.” his brows furrow in offense. “I'm not that loud, I can be quiet.” he defends. “Well guess you better prove that now then huh?”

You take his hand in yours before kissing the back of it. You guide his hand underneath his right knee, leaning over to do the same with the left. Tapping his thigh to signal for him to pull them back and hold them closer to himself. He understands quickly, leaving him bare to the cold air and bare to you.

You rub your middle finger on his rim lightly causing him to sigh. Moving to open the lube you apply some to his hole and your fingers. “I'm going to put one in okay baby?” you alert him and he shakes his head. “Two.” you look up at him in disbelief.

“No, I need to prep you, don’t be greedy.” You tell him causing him to whine. “Two! I need something bigger. I can take it, I always take it well.” “Mingyu–” you try to chide. 

“Please love, haven't been full in so long. Need to feel you stretch me, miss it.” he bats his lashes, already knowing he has you where he wants you. All he has to do is say a few sweet words, be pretty, and you’d do anything he requests.

“Just tell me if it hurts okay?” you sigh and he smiles, feeling spoiled. 

You go back to rubbing his hole a few times before stopping. He looks to see why but you don't meet his gaze. Lust clouding your vision. You need to record him, need to make sure you get a  video of him like this. “Gotta film you baby, gotta save it. Is that okay?” you question and he nods.

Loving the feeling of you thinking he’s lovely enough to photograph, lovely enough to be recorded for you to look back on.

You grab your phone from the nightstand before kneeling back on the bed. You open the camera before pressing record. Wasting no time, you slowly inch your two fingers into his hole, watching the way it grips your fingers tightly. You hear Mingyu moan softly, the feeling of you inside him too little but too much at the same time.

“It's pretty?” he asks sweetly and you groan quietly. His warmth surrounds your fingers making your brain feel like it's surrounding you. Making you feel like it's you filling him up, not your fingers, and god how you wish it was.

“Yes baby, it's pretty. All of you is so pretty.” he smiles pulling his legs higher. You point the camera from where your fingers move inside of him up onto his torso and face. Moving faster when you see him look up into the camera.

“Look at you, legs spread wide all for me. What do you think the others would think if they walked in here and saw you like this? Big boy Mingyu, the best player on the team getting his ass played with. Do you think they'd close the door? Or do you think they’d see just how pretty you are?” 

His cock jumps at the thought of everyone thinking he's pretty. He only needs to be pretty for you but the thought of them saying it to him makes him groan. At the thought of his teammates, his eyes leave the camera to look at the door, eyeing the knob hoping it's locked only to see it's not. 

“Oh no, you forgot to lock the door baby? It's almost like you want them to come in.” you accuse and he shakes his head. Hips starting to rock down to meet where your fingers move just a little faster, still much too slow for him. It leaves him wanting, leaves him jumping at every slide he does get to feel of your fingers on his prostate.

He knows you're missing it on purpose. He knows that you’re only hitting it when you want to and that makes him needier. Makes him have to guess which stroke is going to have to make him bite his lip to quiet his sounds.

You lean back pointing the camera to be focused on his hole as you take your fingers out. He whines at the loss, his hole feeling too empty. His cock lays hard against his stomach, tip flushing pretty against his tan skin. You slide three fingers back into him, the third adding a stretch that mingyu craved.

The stinging is so pleasurable it has him moaning your name. You and your touch are the only thing plaguing his mind. 

“You gotta be quiet baby remember? I haven't even touched your dick yet and you're being loud. It's like you want everyone to hear you. Like you want them to walk in and watch.” 

He shakes his head quickly even though his cock jumps at the idea. “No!” he whines. You shake your head in faux disappointment. Lifting the camera to his face, his glossy eyes finding it quickly. “Baby told me he’d be quiet and I believed him. Yet he’s such a slut for his ass being stuffed that he can't shut up.” you chastise.

“I c..can be quiet.” he stutters lowly. “Yeah?” you ask and he nods, going to respond yet cut off by you finding the spot that has his back arching off the bed.

You don't relent your movements only seeming to increase. He can't help but cry out, the sounds leaving him bounce off the walls causing you to feel aflame

“Fuck, baby. You look so pretty.” you groan. He doesn’t answer instead putting his hand over his mouth as you abuse his prostate nonstop, his thighs shaking yet never faltering from their position. “Grab your cock Gyu, don't you think it'd feel good baby?” You order him and he looks up at you nervously.

If he takes his hand off his mouth he doesn't think he’d be able to be silent especially if he jerks himself off while you finger him.

Though that's what you want. 

You want to see him cum, want to see his jaw slack and cock twitch when he makes a mess of himself. To hear him cry your name out because that's all that pops into his pretty little head. He removes his hand from his mouth slowly, bringing it down to hold his cock: unmoving. “Go on baby.” his eyes flicker from the camera to his cock before pumping it slowly.

The feeling makes him sigh. Your fingers slow down so as to not overwhelm him. “Feel good?” you question and he looks back to you. Pink lips shining and eyes glossy. “Yeah..” he trails off quietly. You smile, your panties left wet from this. 

His effort, his beauty, his warmth, all of it makes you go crazy.

You pick up your pace again. Fingers fucking against his prostate unrelenting causing pleasure to overtake him so fast he almost forgets how to stroke his cock. You smile as his hand stutters and his eyes roll back. You look at the camera seeing the way his sweat makes his skin shine.

“What's wrong Gyu? Why’d you stop?” you question, voice laced with faux confusion. He looks up into the camera. His face is so pretty you think you could cum just from seeing him like this. 

Even though he's not necessarily staring at you it feels like he only sees you, the phone not even in his vision. 

“Can’t Y/n, can't.” he cries out. His lip quivering, he feels so good, loves you so much. He needs your help. Only you know how to ruin him so good, touch him in a way he never can. “Need my help baby?” You inquire and he nods.

His brain is too fuzzy, all he wants is for you to make him cum. Wants to feel your touch everywhere. You grab his cock tightly before pumping him quickly. “Yes, yes..“ he moans out. Hands pulling his thighs closer, hoping maybe it'll let him feel you more.

Suddenly the noise from in the house gets louder, cheering for something unknown being heard. “What do you think they'd say if they knew they were in our video baby? Knew that their voices could be heard while I film me fingerfucking you?” you question before squeezing him tighter. Strokes gliding easily from how messy he already is. 

“Ahhh, good s’good!” he moans. Not caring about how his voice is getting louder and how the house is suddenly getting quieter.

“Y/n…y/n!” he cries hips moving up and down. Trying to pull more pleasure from wherever he can get it. “Close baby?” you ask lowly.

“Mmm! feels good, feels so good. Wish it was deeper.” he whimpers out. “I’ll just have to keep you stretched till we go home tomorrow then huh? Then I’ll fuck you deep baby, make you feel me here.” You press your palm on his stomach and the action sends him over the edge.

His stomach tenses and his eyes open to find yours once more. He needs to see you while he cums, to see how you look down at where his cum lands on his stomach while some drips down your hand. 

Your name falls from his lips in a sob, letting the whole house know who makes him feel like this. Letting them know who makes star football player Mingyu sound like this. 

You take your fingers out of his hole he whines at the slide of them. Pointing the camera to where his hole is now empty. Watching as he clenches around nothing as if to entice you back in. You moan at the sight, such a pretty hole on your pretty boy. You turn the camera off, throwing your phone to the side. 

“Was I pretty?” he asks when you lean over him to kiss his neck. “The prettiest.” you admit truthfully. He giggles, loving how you see him. 

“Want more kisses now.” he pleads and you smile moving to look down at him “You weren't quiet.” you jokingly remind him. Mingyu whines, feeling frustrated from his lack of kisses. “Don't care. You like it when everyone knows how much of a mess you make me. So shh and give me my kisses.” he vocalizes pulling you closer to him.

You laugh and kiss him lovingly. His lips are always soft and inviting as you press yours to his. Neither of you moves back until your lungs beg for air.

He leans up for one more peck before laying back against the pillows with a pretty grin. “So what I’m hearing is you weren't even trying to be quiet.” you tease; standing up and helping him lean against the headboard. You help him put his clothes on so you can head to the shower. Sure the bathroom is right across the hall but you don't want to risk the chance of someone seeing Mingyu walking; ass out. 

“I was trying.” he replies causing you to roll your eyes. “Sure gyu.” You don't even have to look at him to see his leg bounce. “I was!” you only laugh at his insistence.

“Whatever just be quiet from here to the bathroom, then maybe I’ll give you more kisses.” You open the door and look over your shoulder to see him close behind, mouth shut. You giggle at his cuteness.

He knows it's an empty threat, He’s just too pretty that you'd give him anything no matter what he does. 

You both know that.

#mingyu x reader #sub!mingyu x reader #sub!mingyu #dom!reader #svt x dom!reader #mingyu smut #mingyu fluff #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #svt x reader #sub!svt #svt smut #svt fluff #sub!idol #svt imagines #svt fanfic

[aloesarchives]

Valentine's Day Special #2 (JJK One shot)

Warnings: Suggestive parts from Suguru and Shoko but it's funny, I think that's it.

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Fem!Reader

Here's Gojo's part I promised after my Toji one. A bit but here nevertheless.

 “Sugu, have you gotten in touch with Toru? He hasn’t responded to any of my calls and texts this morning and class starts in 10 minutes.”

“Maybe Satoru forgot to charge his phone last night and is coming here with a dead phone. I mean we did have a late start today but you know how he is. Something wrong?”

“I thought I asked. I’m just a little worried, that’s all. Normally he would blow up my phone but not today. I hope he’s not sick.”

You sigh as you look at your phone to see if any more messages would be sent but none came. It was Valentine’s day today and everyone was giving their Valentine gifts to the one that gives them heart eyes. Some were cute, others were cheesy, and some were mid. You’d usually spend Valentine’s day alone or celebrate it with a few classmates. However, this year was different because you would actually be celebrating with Satoru. Initially, you were trying to play it cool and be all chill about it. Not making it a big deal. But you can’t help but feel giddy and a bit excited because you can spend the day with your boyfriend who was also your best friend. 

However, Satoru’s lack of response made you a bit anxious with your foot rapidly bouncing and your eyes fidgeting between his empty desk and the clock. If he was sick and couldn’t come to school, you would understand. But Satoru wasn’t sick yesterday or showed no signs of any. You hoped that he was okay and nothing bad happened to him. With class starting in five minutes, you deflated into your seat and just wanted the day over with because it wasn’t going to be fun when Satoru’s absent. 

Just as you were about to turn around and ask Suguru something, your classroom door slid open to reveal Satoru Gojo in the flesh. His face was covered by a bouquet of (favorite flowers) and a large shopping bag. Sugaru just smirks as you sit in shock before standing up to meet Satoru who was standing next to your desk.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Sweetheart!”

“Is this for me, Toru? Aww, thank you~! You shouldn’t have.”

You give him a quick peck on the cheek before taking your gifts and placing them on your desk. To everyone, Satoru brushed it off suavely while embracing his confident smile. But to you, and Suguru, Satoru was a lovesick fool who is screaming from joy on the inside.

You would have talked more but the bell rang so it will have to wait until break. Satoru sneaks a grin, sending a wink your way while you could only roll your eyes playfully.

“Sorry I didn’t answer your texts or calls this morning. I used the late start to pick up your gifts but I accidentally woke up later than expected. So I had to rush myself to get your things while trying to make it to school on time. I had to ask Suguru to distract you until I arrived.”

You glanced over at Suguru to confirm what your boyfriend said was true. All you were met with was whistling and his eyes were anywhere but on yours. You shake your head with a chuckle as you place your hand on Satoru’s bicep while walking to get some snacks.

“You had me worried, Satoru. I got scared for a second something happened to you. At least it’s good to know that you were okay.”

“I didn’t mean to! Look, I just wanted to surprise you. I just—you know— had a minor slip up. I just wanted to treat my favorite girl!” Satoru whines out trying to defend himself.

“Favorite girl? You mean I’m not the only one, Satoru?”

Satoru froze and had this look of absolute panic on his face. Suguru gave an accusatory look at Satoru’s way before you bursted out in laughter.

“Toru, I’m just messing with you! You look like you’re about to cry, I didn’t mean to get carried away like that! I know you love me, you simp. My one and only.”

The way his face shifted from panic, relaxed, to flustered was like a powerpoint where the teacher is changing slides too fast. The tips of his ears and the apples of his cheek were rosy pink. He tried to use his free hand to hide his blush but it was useless. Suguru just laughed at the expense of his friend. 

It was interesting to spend Valentine’s with one of the school’s heartthrobs. Satoru’s fans are split down the middle between fangirling or mean mugging at you two. You honestly don’t care about the haters because they’re not the one dating Satoru. School goes on as per usual, Shoko came to hang during lunch because she was out on a field trip, and the occasional hallway confessions and gift giving. Once school ended, things were different. You assumed you would go back to your dorm and that’s the day.

But Satoru had other plans in mind. You were about to go grab yourself something at the local convenience store before seeing Satoru pull out in a slick black sports car. At this point, you wonder what Satoru didn’t have. Satoru said the day’s not over and he’s got stuff in store for you. He takes your stuff away inside the car before reaching his hand out towards you with the absolute rizz.

“Let’s get moving, Babe. I don’t want to waste a second today when I’m with you~” Satoru says with  his overflowing rizz and charm.

You giggle like the high school girl you are and make your way over to him, taking his hand in yours.

“You two love birds have fun! Don’t go too crazy!” Suguru shouts from afar.

“If you guys do the deed, don’t forget to wrap it up, Satoru!” Shoko shouts after as she waves off to the two of you.

You both immediately got in the car, Satoru laughing his ass off with red all over while your whole body was ablaze and on fire. If it were possible, steam would be coming from your head. Once he comes down, Satoru starts driving you to treat you like the fucking queen you are. Satoru took you to all your favorite spots, stores, and places. He bought you anything you asked for, which were literally three items. He takes you to a crane game arcade and he won every single game you looked at on the first try, getting some of your favorite plushies in the process. God the way you smiled and eyes lit up made him so elated that his heart was going to burst. Genuine joy and whims of boyish youth surge through him as he realizes he can be himself around you. 

Free from his title as a Gojo, free from being the heartthrob, free from being anything other than Satoru and your best friend/boyfriend. He wanted to feel like this everyday forever when he’s with you. Every now and then he kisses your hand as you go around to your heart’s content. You never had this much fun in your entire life until today and it was all boy you gave yourself to that was also your best friend. As naive it is to think, you knew you wouldn’t experience this with anyone else. For your boyfriend to also be your best friend was absolute bliss and you want both of you to cherish it forever.

You two sit on a bench in an empty park, staring up at the starry night sky while eating some daifuku together. Your hands interlaced and both of your heads lean onto each other. No talking, just silence and the sound of the city night life filled the air.

“I want to thank you for today, Toru. I had a wonderful time, and it’s because of you.”

“I should be thanking you, (Y/N). You showed me things I never thought I’d get to experience. You made me feel things I never thought I could feel until now. All thanks to you… I love you, (Y/N).”

Satoru turns to face while holding your hand up to his face to kiss it. You smile softly at him while unlacing your hand so you can cup his face gently. You giggle seeing his face sink slightly in your hold.

“I love you too, Satoru Gojo. For as long as we’re together, I will always love you.”

Pulling him in to share a sweet kiss until the gentle moonlight. Once pulling away, Satoru brings both your hands into his as he brings them to his chest, feeling his fast but strong heart beat. His eyes are full of sincerity and unwavering dedication, boring into your own.

“Then promise me, (Y/N), you will stay with me for the longest time. Not just spending the future Valentine’s days together, but to experience life with you by my side. Now and forever… my one and only…please…”

You see the yearning and devotion in his cerulean eyes that still shine in the midst of night. His words, his eyes, his heart reassured you with everything you needed to hear. Because being with Satoru Gojo is something you will never regret and neither did Satoru as he never regretted loving you and only you.

“Of course, Toru, I’ll be with you until the end of time. Now and forever, with my one and only, Satoru Gojo.”

At your confession, you saw a smile that Satoru gave you that will forever be etched into your memory. One you have the honor and privilege to see everyday as he does with yours.

There’s no telling what the future holds. But it’s guaranteed that there are many more Valentine’s days to be spent together with Satoru. In which one of them you are wearing a shiny ring. Then another where there’s an additional ring on top of your other one, you are seated close to your husband as your last name is now Gojo.

#x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #reader insert #fem reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #geto suguru #shoko ieiri #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo x female reader #satoru x reader #jjk satoru

[saintmuses]

❝𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙡𝙡 𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙢𝙚❞

Pairing:

Tom Buckley x Best Friend!Reader

Summary:

When looking at her standing in her white dress, Tom realized he had to be the one to cut the string that tied him and her together despite not wanting to, but he had to.

Warning(s): Angst. Implied jealousy. Mutual pining, but unrequited love. Implied psychic powers. Implied toxic relationship (Reader/Sal). Minors dni! Note: Sal Owen is the male equivalent of Sally in the movie. Also Tom gives me a vibe that girls break his heart. Margaret Matheson is alive in this fic. Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac especially live version is my Roman Empire!

Word Count: 2k

Tom knocked on the door tentatively, the sounds of his knuckles -the knuckles he had dealt with violence who dared to cross his line that night in the theater- rapping against the wood echoed, drawing the attention of someone in the room.

Y/N turned away from the standing mirror at the corner of the room to face him. He could see that her eyes widened when they laid on him.

"Tom," she said his name in breathless-like quality in her voice as she stared at him. Her hair was curled lightly, and it cascaded down her back, away from her face. His eyes flickered to her hands when she gripped the dress as she looked down.

She was a vision.

He inclined his head towards her, "Y/N." He said her name simply, but it held so much emotion that he held back from her.

"You came," she beamed at him, and the sight of her smile had his heart flutter as he smiled in return.

He then chuckled softly, "how could I not." 

He was seventeen when he met her in the hallway at high school. Her locker was next to his, and they had met when her lock was jammed, and she had roped him into helping her. She went out of her way to bake him his favorite sweets out of gratitude. 

She came and went throughout the years, but they were still best of friends.

He'd remembered the days when she would laugh that slight airy sound that would've warmed his heart, except she was laughing with Sal Owen, her fiancé. He wasn't amused by it, the jokes her fiancé had made in an attempt to make her laugh, wasn't funny at all.

When Y/N left her then-boyfriend the first time after he barely put any efforts in their relationship, she came down to the city to stay with him. It was one of the best and the worst things that could ever happen to him. It was torture, her being nearby all the time and not being able to do anything about it.

She helped him with PowerPoint presentations, put together experiments that debunked supernatural phenomena, and would be a volunteer during Dr. Matheson’s lectures. She loved her like a family.

There was a little animosity from Margaret’s side due to the fact that Y/N was ditzy, but she quickly warmed up to her after learning that she was nothing like she portrayed herself to others who did not know her.

A simple phone call from Sal had Y/N pack up her bags and leave his place.

She came and went, just like that.

Then Y/N and Sal were back together, and he was okay with it because he knew it would end again.

It ended again, a different reason this time. He was caught with another woman, and it broke her.

She had called him one night, with the sounds of sniffling and a shaky voice had him running to the town and take her back to his place like before. 

He was there for her when no one else couldn't. 

She had confessed in a small voice when they were sitting on the couch, saying she missed being here more than where she was at with her ex-boyfriend, and she was considering moving to be closer to him.

It gave him a slither of hope. That he might had a chance, but he wouldn't do anything until she was emotionally feeling better. It wouldn't be good if he took advantage of her in her vulnerable state.

He wished for her to see that Sal wasn't worthy of her affections.

He loved her and he wanted to do this right.

The situation with a world-renowned psychic Simon Silver got out of hand and had taken him away from her.

That was when Sal somehow wormed his way back to her heart, and things were okay again.

With a heavy heart, he knew it wasn't the right time for them.

They talked a few times in few and far between.

When Margaret, his co-worker and a good friend received an invitation to the wedding, she was wide eyed when he entered the lecture. Fortunately for both of them, the classroom was empty. She knew how much he loved Y/N, and dreaded telling him the news.

With a whisper, she told him that his best friend was getting married.

He did nothing but walked out of the room with an unreadable expression.

Tom knew Margaret was somewhat in a foul mood due to his careful stoic persona turned abrasive and irritated which affected the rest of the students.

He tried to keep it together that day, stoic and professional-like, then once the day went by, it was time for him to go home to his empty place.

That was when he’d let go of his façade.

He lashed out in his apartment, turning his room upside down far too many times, and he would be solemnly silent in the dark of nightfall.

A few days before the wedding, Margaret stormed into his office with her arms crossed, staring down at him with hard eyes while he was sitting by his desk, and proceeded to tell him that he needed to get his act together and go to his best friend’s wedding.

She had told him that if he didn’t want his best friend marrying the guy who’d never treated her right then tell her before it was too late, but if he didn’t want to do that then he needed to let her go.

He thought of the memories all those years ago. In his darkest days, she had always been there for him, he hadn't known she wouldn’t make him forget who he was.

Not even his previous relationships were able to make him forget how he felt for the girl he met at the locker. He did love them; but his best friend, with her eyes fierce, and determination that came down onto him like an iron fist, had made his love for them pale in comparison.

He didn't want to fall in love with her; nothing good could come out of it being in love with their best friend, but how could he not when in her eyes, they were the windows to her soul, the one that made her different from the others who wronged him in the past.

Tom gazed at her as she looked out to the window to see the landscape of where she was having the venue at. 

With a sense of heavy heart sitting in his chest, he blinked placing his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

He would have to let her go.

"I came here because Margaret thinks that you shouldn't marry Sal." A tiny white lie slipped from his tongue, as he raked his eyes over her dress as a reminder that she could be making a potential mistake, in his eye that was.

"And I couldn't help but to agree with her," he said slowly, pride nearly rose up to prevent him from speaking any further, but he suppressed it.

Y/N turned away from the window to face him, with a slight disbelief on her face, a taut grimace on her lips. "What?"

He took a step forward, suddenly feeling the courage that he hadn't felt before. "Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?" He murmured.

He was beyond to the point of being exhausted of never getting what he wanted.

Between the time of her spending some time with him to the time of today, he was being driven slowly insane with affection and grief and longing.

A never-ending torment.

He just wanted her, to be loved by her. 

Wholly and irrevocably. 

It was his fault for her to not know how he felt about her, nor could he just expect her to read him, especially since he tried to keep his feelings locked up in the shields of his heart.

It wasn't a coincidence that he kissed her, hovering over her lips back when they were drunk together at a dive bar, excusing for his inebriated behavior. She tried to be someone else that night due to heartbreak she was experiencing again, but he saw right through her within a mile away. 

Y/N didn't dye her hair, it was not something she would do. That night her hair was a different color, she was trying to be different, and he knew that. He could tell the difference in her eyes that night; before when she had the first heartbreak, it was painful to look into her eyes. A third time, her eyes were more guarded and vulnerable all at once.

Since she was playing a game with her liver, he went along for the ride, alcohol running through his bloodstream. She wouldn't know that he was not as drunk as she was, and that was why he took advantage of kissing her.

It was something he had always wanted.

He was truly a selfish man, but he would never tell her so, and he got away with it when her lips caved under his lips. If he could do it again, he would.

When they crossed each other's paths over and over, there was always something in between them. Always. 

He knew he had feelings for her from the beginning, he knew people could see the adoration in his eyes whenever he looked at her, and he didn't care because no one would say anything. 

Even when Sal in the same room as him, he knew that Sal was reminded that there was a serious competition between them due to his position in her life and how long he had been a part of it; the way Sal shifted towards her as if he could protect her from him, hidden threats behind the snide words he tended to throw at him, and most of all, he hated when they spent any second together.

She had always rebelled against her fiancé when it came to him, defended him on her own premise, and trusted him explicitly.

Maybe, he had thought she felt something for him too.

Now, he wasn't so sure, and he hated being unsure of anything, especially something this important. She was supposed to be his. His. Her fiancé didn't appreciate her the way she deserved. Tom would have given her the moon and the stars if she had asked.

He saw her nearly faltered, and he blinked. "I just needed to know if it's something that you truly want, if that is what you desire." He murmured before sauntering over to her.

She didn't say anything other than sadness that flitted in her eyes when she looked at him and he swallowed thickly. With a sense of clarity with the way it was in her eyes when she gazed at him, he knew she loved him too, knowing she made her choice when she said yes to Sal.

Then she closed her eyes when his hand reached out to thread his fingers in her strands. He noticed that she leaned in his touch slightly, and it broke his heart even more.

"I don't want you to marry him, but I know you will.” He chuckled mirthlessly, inhaling slowly then exhaling which sounded shaky. Sadness radiated in his veins. “And when you do, this is it for me after tonight.” The sentence ended in a whisper as his bottom lip slightly trembled at the thought it would be the last time.

She slowly opened her eyes to peer at him under her eyelashes. With glassy eyes, she whispered, “why?"

However, she was always holding him at arm’s length, as if she was afraid of him being the one to truly break her heart, tear it out of her chest, and throw it to the ground for her to never be able to get it back in one piece.

Suddenly his throat began to close on him, and he inhaled sharply before feeling a brim of anguish. The emotion caused his eyes to soften with a bitter smile, he curled his fingers around her ear to brush away a loose strand before confessing.

"I love you, but you would not let me."

Perhaps in another life.

#tom buckley #tom buckley x reader #Tom Buckley x you #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #red lights #Tom Buckley x y/n

[rc-writes]

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙨 | 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢

pairings: benny weir x reader (could be seen as platonic or romantic)

warnings: two curse words??, if you’re reading this as platonic there’s one mention of wearing couples costumes but friends can totally do that to, uhh i think that’s it

a/n: alright i could have probably thought of a million more but it was literally 1am when i wrote this and i was tired lol. also i will admit that was me fulling self projecting on the info dumping about movies part and wanting to text someone at an ungodly hour, but in my defense i do genuinely think benny would do those things as well. also this was requested by an irl friend of mine who mentioned friends to lovers after i finished this so look out for that coming soon! also this is my first writing related thing i’ve posted on this blog in like 2 years!!

will try to learn spells just to impress you

of course there was a few that went wrong

maybe more than a few, but it’s the thought that counts right?

will send every meme or funny video he finds

does not matter if its 3pm or 3am he will send it immediately after he found it

which speaking of 3am i can see him not being able to sleep so he tries texting you

if you answer i can see him texting “hey what’s wrong?? why are u up so late?? everything okay??” and completely ignoring that he too is also awake at this hour

“you are aware you texted me first, why are you up”

“i asked you first”

benny absolutely loves video games and will want to play a few with you even if you don’t like video games

which if you’re with him there a good chance you love them too

but if you don’t you will most likely start liking them even just a bit because he makes them fun

getting to spent time with him and watch him do something he loves makes it special

it also can be really funny

can guarantee at least once he’d say “watch this babe” or “this ones for you” and immediately fail/die

this is also something that definitely happens in the outside world with him trying to throw something away or something

pure of heart, dumb of ass

also i don’t know shit about video games so i cannot go into anymore detail then this lol

is 100% down with spontaneous movie nights whether that be binge watching movies at home or going to the theater

if it’s a movie he’s obsessed with but you’ve never seen he will be trying his hardest not to info dump and potentially spoil the whole thing

but if it’s a movie he knows you have seen he is more than willing to explain every single fact about it he knows

“did you know that while filming this bit they had film it completely in reverse to make it look like that?? insane right!?”

speaking of movies if it’s a horror/scary movie you can bet he will try to act all tough and not scared before it starts

even if you already know how much of a scaredy cat he is he will try to play it off

but the second the first jumpscare happens there will be popcorn flying everywhere

he is no longer allowed to hold the bowl

you’re still finding popcorn in the couch

he will still continue to pretend that he’s not scared despite shaking like a scared chihuahua

you will have to be the one to grab onto him

which then leads to him hiding his face into your neck or behind you

he still refuses to let you turn it off even if you insist it’s okay

there is a part of you that feels bad but also a part that thinks it’s so funny

your contact names in each others phones are han solo and princess leia

the only suggestions i will take on this is that yours is han and his is leia

will take you to every convention within driving distance

if the convention if for some game/show/movie you don’t know be prepared for a whole powerpoint presentation or a weekend of binge watching whatever media it is

“didn’t you just say you hated doing a powerpoint for history??”

“babe this is way more important and interesting than anything school can teach”

you both will be going all out costume wise every convention

i can totally see you guys going in couple costumes or like hero and villain

if the latter you two take turns on who gets to be the villain or hero

if you are with benny there is no way you can be a halloween hater

he can do freaking magic, of course it’s his favorite holiday!!

this also can follow what i said for conventions with the costumes

at some point there is a competition on who can get the most candy

if he loses, he will say that the candy was just too hard to resist, and he had to eat just one piece that turned into him eating many pieces

this is a true fact whether he loses or not

side note if you can go a whole night of trick or treating without eating a single piece of candy while doing so i don’t believe you

#mbav #mbav headcanons #benny weir #benny weir headcanons #benny weir imagine #my babysitters a vampire #my babysitters a vampire imagine #my babysitters a vampire headcanons #benny weir x reader #mbav x reader #my babysitters a vampire x reader

[twogyuu]

be here with me || ml

Pairing: Mark Lee x fem!reader

Synopsis:

And I keep saying okay (Okay) I never listen to my own heart I do whatever they say (They say) While looking like you're happy as hell (Oh, I) I really hope that you feel the same (Oh, I) Tonight

– 7PM, BooSeokSoon ft. Peder Elias

Alternatively: a series of events in one night that made Mark and you realize maybe you loved you each other more than a cherished childhood best friend.

Genre: Fluff with a good smattering of angst (DA NILE IS A RIVER IN EGYPT), crack, BFF-2-???, inspired by BBS's 7PM, clumsy heir!Mark, heir-to-normie!reader, struggling grad student!reader, secretary!Doyoung

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of food and alcohol, brief mentions of underage drinking, themes of social inequities, unhappy ending (kinda? up to reader interpretation), reader has long enough hair to be put in a bun

WC: ~8.9k

Taglist: @niinjo @dropsofletters @matchahyuck

A/N: A special thank you to @wooahaes for beta reading and keeping me company as I wrote my first Mark fic! 💙 In the words of Mark Lee, "This one's for you!" (and hopefully, he doesn't miss again 😭😂🏀🧺)

the playlist: anywhere but home (seulgi) >> 7pm (bss) >> sure thing (miguel) >> believe (paul blanco ft. crush) >> fallin' all in you (shawn mendes) >> with you (jimin and ha sungwoon) >> raise y_our glass (yunjin) >> abyss (woodz) >> cough (onew)

Winter was Mark’s least favorite season. 

Winter meant shorter days. The sun barely peaked over the city skyline when he arrived at the office. Despite all the windows letting natural light into the building (his father’s insistence on creating an eco-friendly company), he hardly looked outside, busy tapping away on his desktop, eyes trained on screens with bland PowerPoints, or scrawling his signature on the umpteenth document with words that started to blend and blur together into streaks of black ink. When he left with his trusted secretary, Kim Doyoung, the glass building a seemingly lonely and empty ghost of the busy life it held during the day, the dark night sky with a heavy gray haze had swallowed the sun and he was greeted by with what he’d like to think were stars (they were just blinking airplanes and signal towers in the distance he’d come to learn as he got older). Seldom did he leave before his hundreds of employees and catch the last few rays of sun. 

Winter meant the cold weather. His polyester suit sets already felt heavy on his thin frame. To have another layer and all the accessories that came with it was cumbersome. He had to watch how he turned his body so his wool coat wouldn’t accidentally take out a cup of coffee sitting on the table. He made a point to tuck his scarves into his chest, so the ends wouldn’t catch on the spinning doors of the entrance. He had an image to upkeep, which meant beanies that kept his head warm were not allowed for work attire. The tips of his ears would grow numb on the coldest days, just stepping out of his private car into the office. He felt bad for making Doyoung carry his leather shoes so he could change out of his snow boots while he was in the office.

There was one thing to look forward to in the winter though. 

(Autumn, really.)

With winter, also came you: his childhood best friend. 

Every year since the two of you were in high school, you’d spend your summers in Busan with your grandmother, helping her with her strawberry farm. In the fall, you’d return to the city for school, which also meant, Mark got to see you – when you weren’t busy with homework and your various part-time jobs, and him with his duties at his family’s company, that is. 

Peering out his back tinted window of his black Genesis, his eyes skimmed across the other vehicles and their drivers sluggishly passing by. He wasn’t sure why, but traffic seemed to be stalling later than usual today. Most nights, Doyoung seemed to whiz down the highway without a problem. 

A tired mother and her rambunctious daughter shouting and kicking in the carseat in the back. A taxi driver and a lonesome young boy sleeping on his seatbelt. An elderly woman with a fuzzy bucket hat pulled down over her eyes sitting in the front of the bus right behind the driver.

Despite the titles behind his name and the way his father’s business partners and employees praised and pampered him, Mark liked to think he wasn’t so different from all these people he was passing by on the drive. Life had its bright spots, but today was one of those seemingly dreary ones for everyone, glum and tired expressions painting their faces. It matched the dark, heavy gray clouds that loomed over the city. 

Tugging at the knot of his tie loose, Mark shook his head and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to shake the fatigue off his eyes. He slumped forward, pressing his forehead into the cool glass, hoping the cold would jolt him awake like after a couple sips of an iced Americano and the caffeine started coursing through his veins. A patch of fog formed from his breath and Mark raised his hand to trace a childish smiley face in it. For no good reason other than it brought him the smallest amount of joy, his expression mirrored the doodle as he smiled lazily at it.

Sometimes, it felt satisfactory to just let things be and exist. 

“We’ll arrive at the convenience store in about ten minutes, sir,” Doyoung announced from the front. 

“We’re off duty,” Mark caught his secretary’s watchful eye in the rearview mirror, “I told you could just call me by my name when we’re not in office.”

Mark peered outside again, quietly counting the cars he passed like the seconds until he reached you. 

“Right . . . Mark,” Doyoung huffed. “Sorry, force of habit." He cleared his throat, eyes flickering from the road back to his boss again. "Uh, but um . . .” his voice trailing off, blending with the car horns going off in the distance. 

Mark knew he had more to say than announcing the ETA. He always did on nights like this – it was like clockwork at this point. 

The older man glanced in the mirror again. He cleared his throat and asked, “Does your father know yet?”

Mark didn’t bother to look back up at him. 

“No,” Mark replied curtly. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, knowing well that a mini-lecture was coming. As great as Doyoung has been as a secretary, older brother figure, and a companion these past few years, he was a stickler for rules, structure, and tradition – something the two didn’t always see eye-to-eye on.

Doyoung sighed, shaking his head slightly. “You do know you know this . . . arrangement between you and Miss Y/L/N is only going to hurt you in the long-run, right? Your father –”

“‘Would be very upset with you associating yourself with anyone with ties to the fallen CEO of Choi Electronics, especially the former heiress, herself,’” Mark cut him off, quoting his secretary. It was not anything new – Mark knew this lecture like the Queen Mab monologue from Romeo and Juliet he was forced to memorize in high school: boring and long, but dramatic when it came from other people. 

He continued, “‘It’s not good for your reputation if this gets out you’re still seeing her’ – I know,” he looked up at the rearview mirror again, a bored look in his eyes. “I know, but I can’t just . . . let her go like that. Not yet, at least; she’s . . . been my best friend since forever.”

“Mark,” Doyoung warned, though there was a hint of sympathy in his tone. Doyoung has been around long enough to know how fond the young heir was of you. Being one of the few children in the elite corporate world, the two of you were quick to befriend one another, becoming attached at the hip before anyone could blink. Despite the way your friendship waxed and waned as the two of you grew older, at the end of the day, you’d always find one another, some way, somehow.

The fall of your family name a few years ago didn’t seem to break that habit.  

Doyoung knew, none of it was your fault. You didn’t deserve any of the misfortune that you had faced and were coming your way when you finished graduate school. You were merely a collateral piece of a larger, cruel game. 

“It’s not my intention to guilt trip you, but do keep in mind, this is . . . much bigger than just you,” Doyoung sucked in a shaky breath. “If this goes downhill, she might get hurt – a lot more than you.”

Though Mark didn’t reply, the way his eyes dropped to his limp hands in his lap was enough to give Doyoung the slightest ember of hope that deep down, Mark knew. On the surface innocent meet up between friends, but the weight of the situation felt like a firework lit aflame, the wick starting to burnout towards the blunt and explode. 

The facts were plain ans simple: the two of you were childhood best friend.

However, the media had a way of twisting facts into truths for the public.

If he was being honest, it was guilt, and perhaps justice, that gave Doyoung the will to bring Mark to meet you at least once per week. As much as his father pushed it and as much as he tried to hide it, Mark had never quite settled into his role as the future CEO of NCity, Inc. If Doyoung could characterize Mark, he was like a mural on the side of buildings in Hongdae: hidden, yet loud, colorful, and bright. He was clumsy and bluntly outspoken, speaking his mind and curiosities at the wrong times though with good intentions. This predestined career path forced him into a plain and gray box that veiled the majority of his personality. He grew hesitant of his words and thought twice before acting. Every now and then, you’d see flecks of his quirkiness that charmed the company staff and board of executives, but that was all that was allowed. 

As fond as Mark was of you, Doyoung was just as fond of Mark, but in the sense of a younger sibling. Though he rooted for Mark’s success as the future CEO, there was a piece of him who also wanted the young man to be happy. From Doyoung’s perspective, happiness always seemed to stem from you. If he could give Mark just that much, Doyoung would risk breaking the rules. 

The neon green, red, and white sign of the convenience store you worked at spilled into the interior as the vehicle neared. To a bystander, the black Genesis felt out of place in this neighborhood. The buildings were short and small, but cramped against one another. Small alleys offered uneven stone paths to travel between them. The concrete was cracked, the decade old coat of paint was chipped nearly bare. Dogs howled in the distance and a few construction workers, their cheeks stained with dust and soot, were seated outside the convenience store on the picnic tables enjoying ramen from white plastic cups and cheap soju, slurping at the noodles and moaning in satisfaction like it was a five-course dinner. 

Doyoung parked the car at his usual spot: on the side of the hill leading up to the store, where Mark could see you, but you could just barely see the head of the car. Mark’s face visibly lit up as craned his neck to catch you smiling and handing change over to a middle-aged woman. He wondered if the woman was a regular customer who you were friendly with, based on the way you laughed at something she said and excitedly waved ‘good-bye.’ Loose strands of hair fell out of your bun as you bowed, your expression gradually falling to a calm when the women left and you returned to organizing chocolate bars at the side counter. 

[Mark]: Dark or milk chocolate?

[Mark]: Grab one for me if it’s milk chocolate – employee discount pls :P 

He peered out the window, watching your reaction. 

Your phone buzzed, halting you in your task to fish it out of your back pocket to swipe at the screen and read the message. There was a moment of surprise that flashed across your face, quickly followed by a soft smile. You spun around, shielding your eyes and squinting out into the dark to try and make out his car. 

You must’ve seen the black Genesis – your smile only grew as you turned back to your phone, tapping away at your screen. 

“She’s coming,” Mark confirmed aloud.  

Mark unbuckled his seat belt and fumbled with the loose knot around his neck. He hastily pulled off his tie and haphazardly threw it onto another seat and pulled on his trench coat. Folding the collar down and patting away any wrinkles, he quickly turned to Doyoung. The young man excitedly slapped the driver’s seat twice as if the older man already didn’t have his attention.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, bro! You can go home – I’ll get back on my own,” Mark explained. 

“Mark–”

“Don’t wait up!” he waved Doyoung off, clambering out of the car. 

You were already walking down the steps. Your faded yellow vest was traded in for your black puffer jacket. A white plastic ‘THANK YOU’ bag hung on your forearm, presumably containing the chocolate bar Mark asked for, amidst other snacks you got for free from time to time. You were trying your best to keep cool, but Doyoung could tell you were beaming. There was an extra pep in your stride and your lips were pressed into a tight line, but it looked funny because you were trying to suppress a grin. 

“You’re here,” you greeted him. You stopped a landing above Mark, clasping your hands together in front of you. You rocked on your heels, your composure slipping, letting the corner of your lip quirk up at the way he looked at you. His dark orbs were wide, reflecting the LED lights of the convenience store behind you. Unlike you, he didn’t try to hide his excitement, a grin spreading across his face.

“I’m here!” Mark sang. Immediately, his arms flew open, welcoming you for a hug. 

You rolled your eyes, but continued to descend towards him, settling to his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. The plastic of the convenience store bag crinkled and crackled between the two of you. Your cheeks already hurt from smiling so much. Though you saw each other frequently enough (though at strange hours), Mark was always a breath of fresh air in your routine; the warmth of the fire on a cold winter day.

“God, I missed you,” he muttered, his voice muffled. 

“It’s only been a week,” you retorted.

“Still too long.”

Just as you scoffed, the honk of the car behind Mark tore your attention from one another. You turned to see that Doyoung had rolled down the window giving you both stern, knowing looks. 

Doyoung was more than happy to arrange for the two of you to see each other at these hours, but he had two rules: (1) Don’t draw attention to yourselves and (2) stay safe. 

“Be careful,” Doyoung warned. He turned to Mark, “Let me know when you get back, okay?”

Mark nodded and shooed him off. 

“Why are you sending him away?” you exclaimed, peering over his shoulder as Doyoung drove away. “No Doyoung today?” 

Sometimes the older man joined the both of you – as a good friend rather than a secretary. You all grew up together after all. 

“Just you and me,” Mark sighed, letting you go. “We have a flight and long day tomorrow – he wants to prep.”

“Flight?” you frowned. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Milan,” he replied, “New business partners – dad wants to establish a holding in Europe.”

“Mark, you should’ve told me.”

“I want to be here,” he remarked. “I’ll be fine! Let’s just . . . enjoy the night. “You and me – quality alone time. It’ll be fun. I need it.”

“Ew,” you wrinkled your nose jokingly, “Don’t say it like that – you sound greasy.”

“But I do!” he scoffed. Hands stuffed in his coat pockets, he bumped your shoulder playfully. “I need it, it’s been a long week.”

“Company drama?”

He kicked at the invisible pebbles along the pavement and nodded. “It feels like a whole k-drama sometimes. He said this, she said that, you should go on this blind date."

You ignored the way your heart ached for him. As glamorous as it seemed on the surface, what lied underneath was complicated and overwhelming – it was like a knot unwilling to untie itself. With a heavy sigh, you nodded and turned to link arms with him. You led him down the street. Mark’s footing faltered at first, but was quick to fall in sync with your own. 

“You know what tea is best served with?” you asked, staring up at the sky.

“Um,” Mark furrowed his brows together in confusion. “Honey biscuits?”

You jokingly shot him a disapproving look at his answer. 

“Mrs. Jung’s spicy noodles.”

. . . .

The walls were thin – quite literally. 

Only a faded blue tarp with an opening that flapped in the winter breeze defended the customers from the cold. Round metal tables were scattered inside, customers were scattered, seated on multi-colored plastic stools, sniffling and slurping on steaming bowls of noodles. There were no barriers between the kitchen and the seating area. A grill sizzling with meat and pots boiling on a fire stove greeted visitors. Spice and the smell of smoke wafted freely over the stainless steel edges, settling in the crevices of people’s coats and sweaters. The scrape of metal tools against one another clanged loudly and thwarted conversations, forcing people to shout to hear each other. Every now and then, Mark would bend over the table and ask loudly, “What was that again?!”

Mrs. Jung’s noodle shop was a street restaurant Mark and you stumbled upon in high school. You both were coming home from your first day of cram school – the “elite” one your mothers had tittered about just weeks before. It was in a part of the city neither of you were particularly familiar with and putting full faith in your navigation skills, Mark willingly followed you off three stops too early from home. Eventually, Mark ended up reaching out for his mother’s driver to rescue the two of you, but while waiting, you both grew hungry waiting and wandering around. Unfortunately, you only had 1248 won worth of money pooled together from the depths of your pockets – couldn’t even afford triangle kimbap at the 7/11 nearby. 

Taking pity on the two of you, Mrs. Jung offered the both of you dinner on-the-house – apparently, you reminded her of her daughter who had left for university a few months ago. Since then, Mark and you made a point to visit at least once a month (with adequate funds, of course). You were especially regular customers during the depths of finals season, when you clung onto your last brain cells and hardly had the time or energy to cook. 

Despite the less than luxurious conditions he was accustomed to, Mark liked dining here most. He felt at ease, like no one was watching. It was just him and his best friend, enjoying a simple meal under the stars (or so he’d like to imagine there were in this hazy city). It didn’t matter if he had sauce on his face. He could slouch, snort at a stupid joke, and slap his knee when someone said something funny. 

“So,” you started as you leaned over, placing the last slice of beef in his bowl, “How was the blind date?”

Mark stopped mid-chew and peered up at you, harshly swallowing down the wad of rice in his mouth. 

You sat back and waited attentively. 

“Blind date?” he asked slowly as if he didn’t know what you were asking. 

You nodded. “The one with the heiress of Jung Cosmetics – He . . . Hera? I think was her name? Her parents named her after the Greek goddess.”

“Ah, right,” Mark sniffled, returning to his food. He wondered why you were suddenly interested about it. “Hera – it was fine.”

“Did you like her?”

Mark paused mid-bite and glanced at you again. “She was fine.”

“Fine as in ‘she’s so fine’ or like fine as in she’s ‘meh’?”

“She was alright,” Mark explained, shoving the soft noodles in his mouth. “Didn’t like her, but didn’t hate her.”

“So . . . you wouldn’t marry her?” you asked. 

He looked at you strangely, but answered you nonetheless. “No – I don’t think so.”

He faked a cough, hoping to change the subject, but he wasn’t sure what. 

 "So . . . uuuhhh," he wiggled his shoulders back and forth, eyes trained on a Sharpie stain on the table, refusing to look at you. "How about you? Meet any boys yet?”

Immediately, you scoffed and scowled at him. 

Mark peered up at you playfully, dipping his spoon in his broth. “What?”

“Mark Lee.”

He raised a hand in surrender. “Hey, innocent question – you asked me, so I ask you. Plus, you’re cute, people are looking,” he shrugged, “And it’s university – according to Jeno, that’s like . . . the hot soup recipe for dating and all, ya know?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at his stupid analogy, pretending as if your heart didn’t skip a beat at his unintentional compliment. This wasn’t the first time and if anything, it was a term of endearment.

“Hot like this soup!” Mark exclaimed. “Well, was – it’s kind of lukewarm now.”

"You know I don't have time for dating, Mark," you grumbled.

Despite what he just told you, he blew at the broth on his spoon as if it was scalding hot and inhaled the liquid. 

Within seconds, his eyes widened in horror as something caught in the wrong pipe. His lips pursed momentarily as he tried to keep his mouth shut to swallow whatever was left and prevent himself from spraying you. Mark finally started coughing up a fit, pounding at his chest. He turned away from you, covering his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh my god, you idiot – are you okay?” you asked. 

“Hot!” he repeated in between coughs. 

“About to be on your deathbed and you’re still on about that stupid joke,” you grumbled. Though you sounded upset, the way you adjusted yourself to hover over him suggested different. 

“No!” Mark waved. “The broth was hot!”

“You said it was lukewarm?”

“Hot! Spicy! I choked on a pepper flake or something!” he stuck out his tongue and fanned it. 

“Oh,” you settled back down in your seat. 

You paused momentarily before the pieces clicked. You reached into your plastic bag, pulling out a short bottle of banana milk and handing it over to him. 

“Here,” you pressed the drink into his hand. 

He peered down at it curiously then back to you. “You sure?”

“Of course,” you chirped. 

“It’s yours though.”

“I have more,” you fibbed. You split a pack of three with your coworkers earlier, each person getting one. You made a point to pull off the straw wrapped in clear plastic and puncture the top. “Drink,” you pushed it towards him. “It’ll help with the spice.”

Mark finally complied, taking a long sip. He let out a small sigh of satisfaction when he pulled his lips off with a pop. His eyes flickered from the drink to you. 

“What?” you asked bluntly. 

He giggled to himself like a drunk, shaking his head. “It’s been forever since I’ve had banana milk, you know?”

“When was the last time you had some?” you asked. 

“High school,” he reminisced, “When Chenle bought all that alcohol and snuck it into our hotel rooms on the school trip? I woke up hungover and you gave me one saying it’d cure it.”

Your eyes widened in horror at the memory, causing Mark to laugh even harder.

"I . . . lied about that," you told him, monotonously.

"No shit," he took another sip, "But I believed you and still drank a full eight pack."

"It's all I could afford from the 7/11!" you defended yourself.

"Lying about this helping with spice now too?" he ignored your comment.

"I'm a little more skilled in the art of drinking and hangovers now that I'm older, thank you," you turned your face back down to your noodles to ignore him.

Mark snickered, relishing in the memory. Even though he felt like shit and probably a whole lot of work for you taking care of him, it was a pleasurable moment for Mark – a time when things were simpler and not much mattered. 

Simple. 

Like now. 

These were small bits of his life he liked to keep close to his heart. 

First hangovers, banana milk overdoses, and all. 

. . . .

“I got this for you, by the way.”

Mark waved a small black gift box tied with a pink bow in front of your face as the two of you were exiting Mrs. Jung’s noodle shop. You stopped abruptly in your tracks, rapidly blinking at the item in your line of vision. 

You wondered why you hadn’t noticed it before. It was simple, but the pink bow was hard to miss. Was he holding it all along? It was no bigger than his hand – you figured he might have put it in the pockets inside his coat, which is why you didn’t see it. 

Your eyes flickered to him, though not with the excited expression he was hoping for. Contrary to his own bashful yet teasing and excited smile, your brows were furrowed together, a small frown tugging at the corner of your lips. 

Eyes beaming, Mark shook the box gently – just enough to hear a quiet rattle inside the box. 

“Mark, what did I say about gifts?” you sighed, pushing his hand down. 

“Y/N,” he dragged on the last syllable of your name, “C’mon – please!”

“I thought we agreed ‘no gifts’ – unless it was the holiday or our birthdays?” you reminded him. 

Mark was quick to press the box into your hands, wrapping his own around yours as to secure it and not let it fall to the ground. Your breath hitched a little at sudden touch and the warmth that encased your hands. You hadn’t expected him to be so . . . “aggressive” about this. 

“I wanted to – for you,” Mark insisted. 

You frowned, unconvinced. 

Mark knew you didn’t like gifts – especially from him after your father lost his position at the company. He couldn’t completely understand it, but he knew enough that it lied within a feeling of guilt and discomfort. You didn’t want to feel like some charity project. On that same note, you didn’t want to be a burden to your childhood friend. After all, it was partially his father’s doing for what happened to your family. 

The milieu surrounding your friendship of over twenty years was not the most ideal – not that it was either of your faults. A part of you always wondered if he still only hung around because he pitied you. You felt bad for even having such a thought – Mark had been so kind and understanding of you all these years. However, you couldn’t help, but question it when most have abandoned you. You didn’t dare push him away for you held onto the small sliver of hope that maybe he wasn’t like that. 

To lose him was a reality you didn’t want to know. . 

“Take it,” Mark pushed the gift closer to your chest. He took a step back. “If not for you,” he pointed to himself, “For me.”

Though you only answered with a heavy sigh, the reluctance evident in the way your shoulders slumped and your arms fell to your side, you took it nonetheless. You flipped it over in your hand, studying it with your eyes and examining it with your finger pads, grazing across the smooth velvet material of the box.  

“Open it,” Mark urged. 

You looked up at him again, feeling nervous.

He only nodded at you, gesturing with his hand for you to do so. He wanted to see your reaction. 

You caved – never had you seen someone so excited to see another person open a gift before. Gently, you started pulling at the pink ribbon, the satin cool and smooth under the pads of your fingers. With ease, it slipped off – its once pretty and neat form now collapsed into a lifeless thread. Pulling off the lid and pushing aside the white tissue paper, a small beige wallet with cushion-style stitches and gold painted metal clasp sat inside.

Your eyes widened in surprise, your mind immediately flashed to last week’s outing when the two of you had gone window shopping after hours when all the storefronts had grown dim and the doors were locked. 

“ That’s so ugly,” Mark giggled, his mouth half-full with red bean bungeoppang. 

“I like it,” you insisted, reluctantly turning away from the glass display, the wallet sitting on a sterile white stand surrounded by purses and backpacks of similar styles. You joined him, continuing down the sidewalk.

The streets were quiet at this time of night. Nearly silent enough that you could hear each other’s breath and the click of your shoes against the pavement. Only a few lonely souls walked the streets, phones pressed to their ear as they chatted with their loved ones, hurrying to the comfort of their own home. The street lamps lit your pathway, casting a soft orange glow across everything, your shadows were long and slanted, accompanied by that of trees. 

“It looks like something my grandma would use,” Mark tried to explain. He handed the bungeoppang over to you for a bite. The wax paper crinkled under his hold. 

“Your grandmother is a woman of good taste!” you retorted. 

“Is she?” Mark asked, thinking back to her last outfit choice at the art gala downtown. It was a bright pink business suit – she almost looked like she was a piece of artwork instead of the paintings and sculptures instead. 

He threw one last look over his shoulder. Indulging in your treat, you failed to notice the way his eyes lingered a while longer, making a mental note of the store name. 

“It’s classy,” you huffed. “Simple with sophisticated detailing.”

“Whatever you say,” he muttered. 

Roughly, you handed the treat over to him, nearly wacking him in his chest. Unfortunately, Mark wasn’t fast enough to catch it; the bungeoppang slipped out of the wax paper and splattered onto the sidewalk. 

“Dude!” you both groaned at the same time. 

“Mark–”

“Ah!” he raised a finger at you, already anticipating your protest. “I don’t wanna hear anything except ‘thank you, Mark.’”

You closed your mouth, pressing your lips together. Your hands tightened around the small wallet, suddenly feeling heavy in your hands. 

Once upon a time, goods like this were a ‘given’ to you – if you wanted it, you could have it. Not to say that you were a spoiled brat and received everything at a snap of your finger, but you didn’t have to think twice about the cost of it. It’s funny how things you once took for granted were now a privilege to even hold like this. 

“Don’t think too much about it,” Mark finally said, breaking the silence. Hands stuffed in his pants pocket, he took another step closer to you, knowing your mind was reeling with thousands of questions, your heart twisted in every which way. He wrapped his hand around yours again, giving you a firm squeeze. “It’s alright to want it . . . to have it, to be given it.”

Sometimes, you hated the way he was so generous.

Sometimes, you hated how he knew you so well – even more than yourself.  

. . . .

“Doyoung’s getting married at the end of summer.”

You stopped pumping your legs and let them drag against the pile of wood chips underneath you as you drifted backwards on your swing, skidding to a halt. The two of you stumbled upon an empty playground nearby, opting to loiter around and found yourselves on the swingset. Your bones creaked a little too much for the jungle gym and the seats of the seesaw were much too small for either of you. 

Your jaw fell slack at the sudden news – it wasn’t bad news. It was actually really good news given what you’ve heard about Doyoung’s special romantic situation throughout the last couple years in passing. Though you wished your reaction could have been happier, it was the reality of the circumstances that made your heart feel heavy. 

This was the first time you were hearing about Doyoung’s wedding. You had figured that if they already had a date set, that meant the plans were in process: invitations were made, venues were picked, wedding dresses and tuxes were tried, cakes were tasted, and seating charts had been laid out.

Yet you heard none of it. 

You wondered why Doyoung and Mark had kept this from you on purpose on the few occasions you’ve met over the past few months or so. The last you heard about him and his partner was simply that Doyoung thought she was “the one” and thinking about getting engaged. 

Perhaps they forgot to tell you about it with the new business deals and product launches Mark had talked about over dinner? 

But was the answer really that simple? It was a wedding after all – one of the biggest events in a person’s lifetime. 

You hoped they had good intentions, but the fact was you were no longer a part of their world despite your years of friendship and history together. It was as if the pluck of your dad’s name plaque at his office desk and you were suddenly a distant commoner among the crowds watching kings from aways on their pedestal. Of course, these kinds of affairs are never done without family politics. As lovely as she was, Doyoung’s mother was superficial – her only son’s wedding had to be pristine and fairytale perfect. You could only imagine the number of renowned names on the guest list, including Mark’s family.

If that was the case, you were on the blacklist.

There was a time where your parents were on the list of VIP guests – and you were dragged along. Not only weddings, but birthday parties, graduations, retirements – rich people always found a reason to celebrate. Then, Mark and you were twelve you were pesky wedding guests, trying your best to sit still for once while brides and grooms walked down the aisles, eyes wandering to the cake, your minds wondering about the dinner and the music selection for tonight. 

You always knew, but with Doyoung being the first one to go, you realized you were getting to that age of business “proposals” and marriage. Now you wondered what twelve-year-olds would be watching Mark walk down the aisle. 

When? 

And with who?

You couldn’t put a finger on why, but your heart ached a little at the thought. 

“T-that’s great,” you said softly, you looked away from Mark. “Congrats to them – really,” you choked out a half-hearted chuckle, “it was a very long time coming.”

Only the wind answered you. It nipped at the tip of your nose as if to tease you and seeped through the openings of your outerwear, sending chills down your spine. Your mind spiraling with questions that you didn’t have the answer to (or rather didn’t want to know the answer to), you failed to notice the longing and wistful expression on your companion’s face as he stared off into dimly lit streets.

“Do you ever think about us?” Mark finally blurted. 

You whipped your head towards him. “Us?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, still refusing to look at you. “Like . . . when we’re going to get married.”

When we’re going to get married.

His last few words echoed in the chambers of your mind. Of course, the practical part of you knew that he meant when you were going to get married – separately. Him with someone else and you with someone else. 

Yet for some reason, the way he said it, his tone laced with sincerity, made you want to believe he meant otherwise. 

“Y-you and me?” you asked to confirm. 

“Yeah,” he replied, drawing out the word. 

You didn’t think he was understanding your question. 

“No, no, no – as in . . . like,” you sucked in a shaky breath, “You with me?”

Finally, he tilted his head to look at you. You could hardly make out his eyes in the dim lighting, only remnants of the streetlamp slipping though the bare trees and past the jungle gym, reflecting off his face. However, perhaps it was for the better as the way his eyelids hung heavy made you nervous. It did not appear “heavy” in a sense that he was tired, but that mix of giddiness and bittersweet look of nostalgia that some people got when they were drunk. 

Mark didn’t have any alcohol tonight though. 

Could it be . . .?

He smiled cheekily, resting the side of his head on his thumb wrapped around the chain holding up the swing. 

“You? Wanna marry me?” he asked. 

“Mark,” you huffed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“If Doyoung and Emmy are enemies to lovers, we could be childhood friends to lovers,” Mark teased. He let out a heinous cackle, sounding like one of those hyenas in Lion King. 

“Mark,” you gritted your teeth. 

“I’m kidding!” he chuckled. “Geez, calm down – would it be that bad to get married to me?”

You didn’t answer him, pretending you didn’t hear his question and started pumping your legs again. 

“What kind of story trope do you think your love life is gonna be like?” he continued to muse. “I think I’m an enemies to lovers kind of guy too.”

“If that was the case, you would’ve loved Hera already,” you remarked. 

“Nah,” he shook his head, shoving his hands into his trench coat. “Didn’t hate her enough the first time.”

“Mark,” you whined, accompanied by an annoyed chortle. You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics sometimes. “Why are we talking about this?” 

“Ey,” he got up from his swing and stood a safe distance from you. You weren’t moving that fast, granting him the chance to punch you softly in the shoulder when you swung by. “I’m just pondering and trying to make conversation.”

“Let’s talk about something else?”

“Okay,” he paused. “I’m curious – who was your first love?”

“Mark Lee,” you groaned.

“I think you’re a first love kind-of-girl,” he rambled on. “I know your first kiss was Haechan – gross, by the way, but your first love. I don’t think you ever told me.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed, “There’s a reason why I never told you.”

His interest piqued, Mark grabbed onto the chains holding up your swing, bringing you to a halt, nearly knocking foreheads with him. For the second time that night, your breath hitched, your faces so close to one another. He was too close for comfort – too close for best friends. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes – one that you don’t think you could handle for too long, tearing your gaze to the side. Unfortunately, he was quick to adjust his position and tilt his head to maintain eye contact with you. You couldn’t help but notice the way your lips were a finger-width away apart, and if you just tilted your chin up – god, you shouldn’t even be thinking about kissing him right now.

You let your hands slide down away from his own, tightening your grip around the rusted metal, somehow, finding solace in the way the rough and uneven surface of the metal dug into your palms. You let out a shaky breath and broke eye contact with him once more. 

"H-Haechan," you replied softly. 

Silence. 

“My first love,” you cleared your throat and continued a little more confidently, “Was Haechan.”

Your answer came a beat late – enough to tell Mark that it was a lie. His lips quirked up, eyes still trained on you.

“I knew it,” he whispered, equally quiet, a hint of melancholy in his tone. 

The delicate moment was suddenly interrupted by his Super Mario ringtone, his device vibrating violently in his pocket. 

You let out a small, shaky breath and turned away – Mark noted the way your feet stuttered, pushing your swing to the left, further away from him in an attempt at courtesy of letting him take his call. 

Cursing under his breath, he fished his phone out of his pocket and swiped at the screen. 

Kim Doyoung. 

However, rather than answering it right away, he stared at the name flashing across the screen. The green ‘answer’ button and the red ‘ignore’ button pulsed with each vibration, urging him to make a choice before Doyoung hung up or was sent to voicemail. It reminded him of the Matrix when Neo had to make a choice between the red pill and the blue pill. 

Did Mark want to continue living in the reality he was born into?

Or to feign ignorance and live in the bliss you gave to him?

He knew if the older man called this late at night, nothing good would come out of it. He could come up with multiple scenarios right now: An emergency at work. Perhaps his father had found out and was furious, urging him to come home.

Or worse, the reporters and paparazzi. 

Mark chose the latter.

He swiped at the ‘ignore’ button and readjusted the volume to mute all notifications. 

Was it such a crime to crave happiness? Even if it was just for a minute? An hour? An evening?

“Let’s get out of here,” Mark said, breathlessly. He slipped his phone back into his pocket and stood up to face you, a strained smile stretching across his face. 

His footsteps stopped when he was just a few inches from you, the toes of your shoes nudging against one another. 

“Aren’t you gonna get that?” you asked. 

He shook his head, extending a hand out to you. 

“But it could be important,” you protested, your grip slipping off the chains. 

“I promised,” Mark replied, “Just you and me tonight.”

You seemed unconvinced, however. 

Mark let out a heavy breath, taking your hand in his own and gently tugged you off the swing. It didn’t take much – it’s not like you were trying to resist. 

There was that sense of guilt surging in your chest again, but you tried your best to ignore it as Mark took off in a jog. 

Though it was never said, you both knew, neither of you wanted this night to end just yet. 

. . . .

It’s funny, isn't it?

When the two of you were no more than five, reaching for his hand, and him yours, was second nature – no questions, no hesitations about it. Whether it was him seeking your comfort after being chased by Renjun on the playground or you merely trying to catch up with him after seeing him down the red carpet at yet another lavish event, your chubby fingers would interlock like two adjacent puzzle pieces snapping in place. 

It was comfortable. It was easy. It was fun. It was friendship. It was love – not romantic, but something innocent and untainted. 

Yet as the two of you grew older and you were introduced to the concept of "cooties" at the end of first grade, unknowingly he and you slowly began to unlearn the habit of linking hands when you were with each other. It started when Jaemin teased you for holding Mark’s hand during a game of hide-and-seek. This was the first moment you were quick to let go of him under the watchful eyes and mocking snickers of your classmates. As second grade started, you grew bashful and more hesitant to keep doing so. With the two of you being in separate classrooms, however, it made the process easier and neither of you questioned it. Rather than at school, you’d find yourself falling back into old habits at company dinners where the two of you were bored and ran off to play, or when his father brought him over during a meeting with your parents. 

However, these moments became less and less frequent until it was nothing. 

The rule was simple and it had finally solidified when the two of you were ten.

Boys and girls didn’t hold hands.

Therefore, neither did you and Mark. 

It was an unspoken agreement and has remained so until this day. 

It didn’t faze you when he offered a hand earlier – the adrenaline and euphoria overtaking your consciousness and your senses to think properly, you willingly took his hand and ran wherever he wanted to lead you. However, when the fleeting and short-lived emotions had passed and you had fallen from cloud nine like a rain drop from a heavy gray cloud, your nerves were starting to get the better of you. Even if it was something so normal when you were children, it’s why now, even the ghostly brush of his fingers against the back of your hand brought heat to your ears and made your throat constrict as you stood next to Mark, shoulder-to-shoulder on a train to Cheomdangdong. 

Bellies full and conversations fell quiet, but unwilling to part ways, the you both decided along the way for one last walk along the Han River. Having sent his driver home, there was no way to get to the other side of the city, except by train. Mark scanned his neon orange metro pass for the first time in months for a ride in comparison to your worn and scratched green one that you used daily. 

The evening rush hour had long passed. Your cart was fairly empty sans the elderly businessman dozing off in the corner and the few bleary-eyed high school students in crumpled navy and white uniforms with Airpods jammed in their ears, returning home from cram school. There were an abundance of seats for either of you to sit, yet Mark and you opted to stand, holding onto the worn velvet straps tied around the stainless steel poles. 

Only the rhythmic chugging of the train wheels rolling across the rusted tracks, rushed through your ears. The silence that settled between the two of you was comfortable, but the growing tension was deafening – at least to you. 

You wondered if he felt the same. 

When the train halted at the second to last stop on the line, the sterile white doors hissing open, he and you trickled out with the last few passengers into the dreary tunnel. Perhaps your steps were too wary and slow, hoping to fall in sync with Mark’s, because the elderly businessman was suddenly wide awake and hastily squeezed his way between you and the door, pushing you into your best friend. Reflexively, his arm came up to wrap around your shoulder, turning and pressing closer into his body, while the man grunted something under his breath before taking off in a speed walk down the strip. 

It didn’t quite hit you, the position the two of you were in until Mark muttered, “Geez . . . asshole. Where does he have to go this late at night anyways?”

You turned in his hold and leaned away to look at him. Your best friend scowled at the stranger’s figure fading in the distance. 

As if on cue, he peered down at you. He shifted his hands onto your shoulders, eyes scanning up and down your figure.

“You okay?” he asked, finally catching your gaze. Though it wasn’t his fault, he offered you what looked like an apologetic smile. 

It wasn’t a rough shove, but Mark figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

You nodded, muttering, “It’s fine.”

Letting out a small breath, you readied yourself to take off towards the stairs that led to the streets and took a step or two backwards. Mark’s hands slipped off your shoulders, one of them falling a little faster than the other, just in time to graze against one of your own, sending heat to your ears again – though you tried your best to ignore the steam that were probably coming out of your ears out of embarrassment. 

He was your childhood best friend for heaven’s sake. 

Yet this time, instead of just letting it be like on the train, Mark didn’t let the opportunity pass this time. He was quick to lurch for your swinging hand, encasing it in his own. He feigned ignorance and courage, not paying mind to the look of shock and terror that flashed across your features. He gave your hand a small squeeze, marching forward into the night, not daring to let go. 

Rather than looking forward, you continued to look at him, searching his face for any hint of anger or regret – any reason that would explain why he would suddenly hold your hand like this. 

No, it was far from scandalous. It wasn’t like he kissed you unprompted or planned on taking you home to warm his bed. 

Nonetheless, this seemingly familiar act from your childhood felt taboo and wrong. Something that once felt like two puzzle pieces fitting together, now felt like putting a spherical block through a square hole. 

He was Mark Lee of NCity, Inc and you were Y/N Y/L/N of rented, tattered textbooks and the less than quarter full tip jar at the alley convenience store. 

As hard as you looked, however, Mark’s nonchalant expression didn’t budge. Eventually, to avoid tripping on the stairs, you forced yourself to divert your eyes. 

Only then, did his lips quirk into a small, gentle smile for a split second.

For tonight, he wanted it to be simple. 

Just Mark Lee and Y/N Y/L/N. No titles, no obligations. Just childhood friends enjoying the little time that remained of the fleeting night, slipping through your fingers. 

. . . .

Water lapped gently against the shore as Mark and you walked along the Han River in blissful silence. The half-moon casted a pearl-like glow across the waters, turning it blue. You’d like to imagine the two of you looked like you were silhouettes in the distance stuck in the Starry Night Monet painting. Black shadows blending into the night – seemingly unimportant to the critical eye. 

Mark’s fingers still woven with your own, the weight and the warmth of his hold grew familiar and comfortable with each step. It was as if he were imprinting himself  in your own hand, and yours, his. You’d both catch each other’s eye every now and then, only exchanging soft smiles before continuing your way to no end. No words were exchanged, but the both of you knew, the feelings, whatever they were, were there, wrapping around the both of you and settling on your shoulders like a fleece blanket on a cold evening. Friendship, love – you weren’t sure if you could even label whatever it was between the two of you, whether it be in the past, right now . . . what would be.

Tonight, however, selfishly, you just wanted to indulge in this moment: where it was just you, him, and the Han River. There were no expectations, no roles that neither of you needed to fill. 

Though it seemed like the two of you were walking for hours, when the ring of your phone interrupted the peace, it felt like minutes cut short. 

“Don’t,” Mark warned as you halted in your steps, already reaching into your coat pocket to grab for your phone.

The device, untouched for the past hour or so, felt cool against your fingers as you looked up at him. 

“It could be important,” you muttered. “It could be my parents or my younger brother.”

“Or Doyoung,” Mark said, his lips crumpling. 

“And if it is?” you gave his hand a firm squeeze. 

“I don’t want to go back – not yet.”

You sighed, pulling out your phone nonetheless to look at the time, but inevitably also revealing the caller ID. 

1:34AM. 

Kim Doyoung. 

The call ended, but started up again within the next few seconds, Doyoung calling again. 

You glanced back up at him, a conflicted look flashing across your eyes. 

“Y/N,” he said, breathlessly though he hadn’t run. Mark knew though, at the end of the day, you were a practical person and knew your place in the world too well. The urge to rip the device out of your hand and throw it into the river itself was strong. 

“It could be . . . important,” you muttered reluctantly, finger hovering over the green ‘answer’ button. “Doyoung would never bother if it wasn’t.”

“I don’t want this night to end,” Mark blurted. “I don’t want this to end.”

But the both of you knew – with every night, came a dawn. 

You smiled sadly, breaking away from him and answered the call. 

“Y/N? Is Mark still with you?” Doyoung asked hastily. He was clearly worried. 

“He is,” you replied, trying to stay calm. 

“Send me your guys’ location right now – I’m sending a driver,” he urged. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, peering at Mark. 

Doyoung paused, letting out a huff into the receiver. “Y-You’re trending on Twitter – there are pictures and his father is furious.”

Your jaw grew slack – something both you and Doyoung feared finally manifesting itself into reality. After listening to his instructions on how to proceed, you handed the phone over to Mark as the older man needed to talk to him as well. The two argued, Mark not letting down his guard until Doyoung said something that brought about a look of devastation into the peaks and valleys of Mark’s sharp features. After a few nods and words of ‘yes,’ the younger hung up, handing you over your phone. 

Silence engulfed the two of you again, but this time out of discomfort. 

Nonetheless, Mark couldn’t quite let this night go just yet. Not caring if there were reporters around to catch this on camera, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pressed his lips against your forehead, letting his lips linger for a few seconds more before pulling away. 

“This isn’t over,” Mark reassured you, giving you a firm squeeze. “We’ll talk about this, hm? I’ll find my way back to you.”

But just because it felt right, doesn’t mean it was right. 

You belonged to two different worlds now; two worlds that were never intended to mesh. 

Perhaps in another life, simple nights like this could last a lifetime instead of the seemingly few hours of dark.

#mark lee x reader #mark lee fluff #mark lee angst #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #nct angst #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 angst #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream scenarios

[doublydaring]

can you explain the michael psychosomatic kittens curse to me please it's been bothering me for upwards of a week

it would be an honor. it's kind of a long story but luckily I'm at work.

1. I was drawing pictures of Mike and Peter on zoom with my bestest friend Cal and I was drawing their beautiful 70s long hair as I am wont to do. A thought occurred in my head that the color of their hairs together would make a beautiful tortoiseshell cat. This prompted me to say aloud: "They would have beautiful kittens." Which of course raised questions. I wasn't even really thinking about kitten pregnancy at this point I was just thinking about their hair. But kitten pregnancy sprung forth none the less.

2. The household has been on kind of a Phyllis kick lately because I have a 73 slide long PowerPoint on the Monkees that I have been workshopping into a sort of combination stand up comedy/performance art piece. Our second focus group (the cast of rocky horror) said that they liked it but wanted more interpersonal drama. So I added Peter and Davy's fight and a "wife timeline" so we've been thinking about Monkee wives and I recently read Mike's book and Phyllis I think we can all agree is one of the most interesting and under-examined people in the whole Monkee cluster fuck.

3. So Mike is pregnant with Kittens. Because he and Peter would have beautiful kittens. And we all agree that being pregnant would be a good thing for Mike Nesmith. On a physical level it would suit him but also from a sort of pseudo feminist perspective where he is forced to take on the burden of """"womanhood"""" we feel it could help to facilitate understanding to what he's putting these women through.

4. So it becomes sort of body horror, where he is forced to confront the physical and emotional labor that he has been foisting on Phyllis and then neglecting her but in becoming pregnant he understands her and their relationship blossoms. We decide that Phyllis sort of has a mental break and convinces herself that she's going to trick Mike into thinking he's pregnant so that he understands just for a moment what she's going through. We try to come up with ways you could try to convince a man he is pregnant (this is difficult).

5. We realize we have lost the kitten plot. But Riley (who has been here the whole time because we share a room but I didn't want to introduce to many characters into this) has been taking a class on monsters and the monstrous and there is this medieval medical belief called "the maternal imagination" which is basically the idea that if you are pregnant and get scared by a mouse your baby will be born mouselike. Or if you are looking at a picture of a man who is not your husband while you conceive a baby the baby will look like the man in the picture, not it's actual father. It's a very interesting sort of belief.

6. So we decide that Mike stumbles upon a sick kitten one day and brings it home and is positively doting. Phyllis and his real life children remain secondary. He's about work and this fucking kitten. And so of course it becomes the object of Phyllis’s ire. And she hates that right? Because it's a sick and tiny kitten. And really she should hate Mike (but she cannot hate Mike this is a fundamental truth of her character). But she decides that she can make him understand. By making him think he's pregnant. And she goes to bed that night and has a dream that she gives birth to kittens.

7. Of course this is totally delusional he's never going to think he's pregnant but weirdly, he starts to ... act pregnant? In ways that she would have absolutely no control over. He's got that glow and he's gaining weight and most of all he's happy and is spending a lot more time at home hanging around. And she starts to get all doting excited husband on him. And their relationship is a lot more tenable now that their roles have subtly shifted. Because she is the responsible one right? But previously she'd have to defer to him and he had to perform this masculine patriarch role and neither of them are brave enough to challenge it but they both feel wrong fulfilling those roles. This is just right. But it's also very fucking wrong. Because Mike is pregnant??? And it's getting pretty undeniable. It is also clear that whatever is in there is not a baby. Phyllis has had babies and this is four little squirmy things. And so eventually Mike has kittens and it is not clarified how physically this happens but it does and it fixes him.

Sorry. I know this is pretty much batshit insane but it is the story.

[just-avocado]

So I stayed up until like four last night writing down the lyrics for the Circe Saga because it’s incredible and Spotify didn’t have lyrics yet but since tumblr doesn’t want me to post pics rn for some reason I’ll just try again later and instead talk about the songs!!! :D

Puppeteer- The intro instrumental lives in my head to rent and so does Eurylochus’s rap part, I need to know what he was going to tell Odysseus he sounded so vulnerable- I swear this guy is climbing up my favorite characters list, I do find it interesting how he wanted to leave the crew behind with Circe when later in Mutiny he confronted Odysseus for “trading the lives of his crew” in order to get home so hopefully that means he had a change and heart and wasn’t just being a hypocrite, I also love how the Circe Saga as a whole but especially Puppeteer and There Are Other Ways really highlight how terrible Odysseus feels about everything he’s done, everyone he’s failed or killed since leaving home, I need to know how he goes from hating himself to embracing all he’s done

Uhh favorite lines!

“Look at all we’ve lost and all we’ve learned, Every single cost is so much more than what we’ve earned” SING IT Eurylochus

Wouldn’t You Like- HEHEHEH I absolutely adore the synthwave-y aspects of the song I’m a huge lover of synthwave vibes as of recent, I would genuinely vibe to the instrumental all day long, Mr. Jalapeño release the instrumental versions pLplzplz 🙏, I’m sure we all know by know that Troy is the real Hermes there’s no other way he can bring THAT much charisma to the role, I’ve seen charisma before but never like that oh my god, I also love his unhinged laugh so much idk how he does it but I want to learn, also when I was writing the lyrics I had to stop for a sec and be like “is this song just Hermes giving his great grandson drugs ooor-“ because that’s 100% something he would do

Favorite lines…

Just the entire “Here in the root of this flower, There lies such a power, To take her on” segment of the song it’s just 👌

Also the part where he’s going OOOhoOhohAhahdph while the ensemble sings his verses his voice is so BEAUTIFUL and POWERFUL oh my GOD

“Don’t thank me friend! You very well may die” I chuckled so loud lmao

And his little “Good luck 😉” he’s so silly he knows shit is going to go down

Done For- okay was the lyric for this song always “I just ate a flower, one that claims your power” cuz I could have sworn it was drains your power but I might just be crazy, also chimera supremacy I love that Jorge was able to find a way to implement it, Jorge and Talya’s voices sound so great together I need more 😭, I also love that this song starts to hint at more depth behind Circe’s actions idk who out here thinks she’s a meh one-note/one-off villain but she’s not!! I’ll make a 50 page PowerPoint on this don’t test me!!

Fav lines…

“You’ve lost.” Okay Odysseus 🤡

“My nymphs are like my daughters, I protect them at all costs, The last time we let strangers live, We faced a heavy loss.” This!! This is what I’m saying she feels like she has no choice other than to hurt people so that the people she loves will stay safe, she’s literally Odysseus further down the line! it’s so fascinating to see a character like this facing off against the main protagonist bc at this point in the story we don’t know what kind of person he will become yet and yet Jorge shows us with Circe Ahdldhnsbdk

There Are Other Ways- Okay I’ll be honest, this song was the last one on my radar not bc I didn’t like it but because I was just looking forward to others so much more and it was also the one I intentionally heard less clips of because I wanted at least one song that I didn’t already know half of the lyrics to 💀 ANYWAY THIS ONE IS THE BEST SONG IN THE CIRCE SAGA CHANGE MY MIND (I’m so sorry Troy I love your voice but this song is simply better) Dude the lyrics go soso hard in this one, I’m such a sucker for one character having like a big emotional moment while another is like singing/backing them up in the background and there’s so much of that here, and the call backs? Both to earlier songs in the saga AND Just A Man, my favorite song Just A Man? Every call back to that song is just so RAW I LOVE IT, I don’t know a ton about Greek mythology outside of Epic so I dont know if Circe and Posideon have this past beef or something but I do find it interesting that it’s only after he is mentioned that Circe decides to help Odysseus but I also think it’s larger due to how he reminds her of herself with how he misses Penelope, UM THE BEAT DROP after the underworld is mentioned for the first time??? CHILLS SHIVERS EVERYTHING dude I love how the entire atmosphere changes so much because yes this could be Odysseus’ only change to make it home safely but it’s also so much more dangerous than the shitty situation they’re already in so there’s not even time for relief or a breath of air like he’s IN it now there’s no going back

Best lyrics omfg…

“There are other roads to the soul~” Talya, Tayla. This is why some of us can’t sing, the universe needs balance and you are the only explanation for that

“Want to save your men from the fire? Show me that you’re willing to burn” 😐 AAAAAH

“But there’s no puppet here” get it puppeteer? Puppet here? I thought it was clever lol

“Back at home, my wife awaits for me, She’s my everything, My Penelope” The yearning in his voice made me feel things

“So I beg you Circe, Grant us mercy, And let us puppets leeeeave~” We have literally never seen Odysseus use this sort of tactic before to get his way but I genuinely think he’s being genuine here, no play, he only wants to see his wife and son again, he’s so close to giving up hope, he’s losing his spirit, he’s searching for any sliver of help even from a women who wants him dead

“I know of a brilliant prophet… Problem is that prophets dead.” Again the cord or piano key I think it was was so AH SO GOOD AH I am foaming at the mouth for when we start getting teasers for the Underworld Saga

“Maybe showing one act of kindness, Leads to kinder souls down the road” someone make an au where Polities and Circe become besties she needs a friend like him but don’t we all, but seriously THIS is what I’m saying!! She is future Odysseus! Only difference being is that she’s so tired of hurting people at this point she decides to take a chance and give help rather than pain in the hopes that it will somehow contribute to a kinder world

“Maybe one day the world, Will need a puppeteer no more” this is her plea for help, she yearns for the day where she won’t need to be a monster in order to protect her nymphs, for Odysseus his plea was for him and his men to leave, they both showed such vulnerability in this song in different ways its ART ITS ART *gun shot*

“I have been in love once before” She even had her own Penelope guys, this is the true reason why she decided to help Odysseus methinks

Okay uhhh I think that’s it ^_^ Circe Saga rules, it might be my fav saga I’ll decide soon

#epic the musical #epic the circe saga #epic the troy saga #epic odysseus #epic polites #epic circe #epic eurylochus #disclaimer for BANGER SONGS #okay I should probably close my eyes or something I’m running in a solid two hours #Circe saga is more important than sleep lmao

[pinkacademic]

Study Dates

Girlies, you should know that a study date is my favourite group activity, even now that I’m no longer in full-time education. I love learning new things with/from my besties, and doing work in company. I don’t even have any particularly groundbreaking ideas, I’mhonestly just gushing about my favourite activity. How to make the most of it!

Location, Location, Location. I love a library, especially the one in the town I went to school in which had a hot chocolate machine, as, frankly, a cute little beverage is a study essential. For that, I tend to like coffee shops- I told you this wouldn’t be groundbreaking! I know, it’s basically florals for spring, but I just love sitting over my hot chocolate, or my smoothie, maybe with a little cookie to hand, and getting down to business. I want it to be known that I theme the experience and I ordered a green smoothie while I wrote my Wicked essay.

Make it a Game. If you know me, you know that I love a quiz- I’m working on one for a family game night right now. If you’re studying for something, ask your friends to test you, or teach them and quiz them too. Then you can learn something together. I also love just doing them for fun too. Set up a couple of rounds on your favourite topics, maybe a picture round or a music round for fun.

Make it a Party! Have I mentioned my love of PowerPoint Parties yet? Next post in line is my ideal PowerPoint Party in detail, but the basics are teaching your freinds about your favourite things- and you get to make the slides thematically appropriate and pretty. They also don’t have to be educational, and you can assign Disney Princesses to all your friends, or a popular one at the summer camp I worked at was how all the tutors would do in The Hunger Games (I did not win in either of the weeks in which it was held.)

The point of all of this is that you are learning, studying, and working in company, though, so make your space cozy at home, bring snacks, whatever. If you sit in silence, or you make a group study playlist, it is all about like-minded friends hanging out. It’s about girls on a mission! Together!

#pink academia #pink #academia #studyblr #pink academia masterpost project

[tothepointofinsanity]

Generic favourite video games list (new favourites + all time) because my friends (and Twitter) enticed me into doing it. I feel as though looking at this, it's pretty clear I don't play enough games. Luckily, I got some recommendations, so I'm excited for the holidays where I can Do Nothing and Game again. Below are some of my notes, but there is one mention of child death and some spoilers for these games, so please be careful.

Notes:

• There were some others I didn't add but also liked, such as Alice: Madness Returns, Little Misfortune, Nun Massacre, Babysitter Bloodbath, Mad Father and Paranormal HK.

• Detention and Devotion both had immense impact on me back then because it was the first time I saw others interact with a Chinese game on mainstream media. It was interesting to see how others reacted to the cultural aspects and storytelling of these two games, and it was actually my first ever look at something that made me feel represented, in a way. Detention also helped me learn about Taiwanese history. On this list, Devotion is the scariest horror game to me. It wasn't about monsters or evil spirits that scared me. It was the protagonist's desperation and obsession tied in with religious themes that ultimately killed his child which made me upset and haunted until even now. Horror based in reality feels tangible. It's very real. I've seen such incidents occur in this culture. Even now, I relate to the child of the story: a girl with panic attacks overlooked.

• Nowhere, MI is a demo game that is still continued being worked on by the developer. However, the demo was fulfilling and very fun. Also, the protagonist is a weirdo that wields a cool sentient gun.

• Underworld Capital Incident wasn't really that old of a game, but the graphics make it seem that way. It's quite niche, but has a unique premise where you play as one of Hell's escort demons. I wish it was more popular.

• Bloodborne is on this list but not Dark Souls solely because Bloodborne has Micolash.

• Taylor Swietanski games (caged bird don't fly; that night steeped by blood river) are pieces of media that will be projected onto a sloppy PowerPoint slide on the day of my funeral. My threshold for what constitutes as boring is very different from the common soldiery because while I may not know what these games are about, the music is nice and it makes me feel something.

• Pearl grabber (made by yatoimtop, the same dev behind Greener Grass Awaits) was sadly not in the database because if it had been, I would have added it.

• Gohome was a weird weird game that combines surreal and horror elements into the familiarity of walking back home. This is similar to "Walk" as well. In both games, strange eldritch beings stalk you. I think I like games that are based on how a home is no longer a home once invaded by your own presence. There's something ironic about it.

#ttpoilog #i don't know if this counts as “baby's first video games list” or not but it feels like it...

[anothershadeofpurple]

Yay for a happy ending but wow Mariana really didn’t deserve Ana what was that? Why do that? Ana pining all the time while Mariana barely had any scene telling us that yes, she was in love with Ana at last half as much as Ana was. After all of that Mariana didn’t even had to make any effort to get Ana?

I spent way too long wanting Ana to get over Marina and realize that she is truly bi (not that bs that she is not gay she just loves Mariana 🙄) and finding someone else who can love her the way she deserves. Really Ana and other women not Mariana was some of my favorite parts lol I really wished Ana had a one night stand, she would still be miserable because she was so in love but at least she could have some great sex, and not just pine while Marina had Ferran

I guess the writers in the end are just not that good, s2 was also pretty underwhelming and s3 was I guess better but not as good as s1. And yes I blame the writers I don’t think that Netflix made any changes there. Just one scene with Mariana and Ana talking about their feelings all that went through, Mariana really talking about how heartbroken she was when Ana pushed her away in s1, about that night together scared her so much she couldn’t think, anything about how much she loves Ana would help so much instead it ended making me feel that Ana was so much more in love that made me kinda sad for her.

Ohh btw sorry for the long rant, the show left me all over the place 😆

Oh my God, I hear you Anon, I'm all over the place too. I should be adulting for Christmas, but instead, I want to do meta deep dives on Tumblr. And I am.

Season two did get boring as well because of the dudes, much like this season, but I do feel it all comes down to trying to keep some imagined general audience happy while carving out space to even be able to tell a gay story, not a lack of capacity. (I like giving creators the benefit of the doubt, especially since we did actually get a textual slow-burn love story between two women. Writers may choose to do it themselves to avoid the network mingling in the first place. I don't know.)

Yes, Ana as truly bi or gay would have been less of a cop-out, I'd like to just think she needs more time to come to terms with her sexuality and this is just an in-between state. After all, it's in character for Ana to be methodical about her sexuality and try to control it. "I'm gonna go out, pick a woman, see if I'm into it and then I will know for sure where I fit in." She might as well have started the episode with a PowerPoint presentation in which she explained this plan to Elena. Ana wants control, she wants shortcuts, which doesn't work in cases like this. We had one of her phony bridge club friends say that "She knew she was a lesbian since high school" when Ana introduced Mariana as the other mother of her daughters. Ludwika just shows us there's so much going on with Ana behind her eyes, I feel like she has a very rich backstory for Ana that she is tapping into. Would love to hear her talk about that. And yes, the chemistry with that woman was actually... good? Even with Elena. She's got Momistry with Mariana, but with these other women... it was easy to imagine more interesting exchanges.

I think the setup for Mariana actually loving Ana instead of Ferran is there, but they did a terrible job with the pacing and gave us so much Ferran that it became difficult to believe. There's the conversation with Elena where the acting makes it very clear she doesn't actually love Ferran, but is playing it safe with him... but even so, it was her turn to talk about her feelings to Ana. And it could have been a few sentences, a short scene, it really didn't need much.

I feel if this last episode would have had another passionate kiss, a few words from Mariana and some tears I would be ridiculously happy right now instead of rationalizing that I should be happy and grateful for getting that next step. It's still progress, hopefully it opens doors for the next slowburn. Eventually someone's gonna get it right.

I better finish my lesbian Hallmark script...

#madre solo hay dos s3 spoilers #madre solo hay 2 #madre solo hay dos #mshd #mshd spoilers #daughter from another mother #dfam #spoilers

[its-the-ratdawg]

hey can you go into heavy detail about something that you like?

so i took a long time to decide what i wanted to talk about (it felt like preparing to give an essay in school except actually fun) but i finally have an answer for this ask!! sorry it took so long!!

something that i really like is space, i've been obsessed with space ever since i was a kid. my mom wasn't perfect, but she was really good at making sure that even though she was a single parent and very busy, we still got to DO stuff. so she took us to see meteor showers and when i was probably about six i became INSTANTLY OBSESSED. the Persieds meteor shower falls every year at around the same time as her birthday, so we always celebrated by going to see it and i was always begging to stay out just one more hour, or until i saw just one more "shooting star."

in third grade i got to make a Powerpoint in science class and i chose to make one about our solar system, i had a slide for every planet and the sun and all the moons with each planet and even for the Kuiper belt, i was WAY too shy to actually PRESENT the presentation but i had a lot of fun writing it and finding pictures and researching.

my favorite star is Polaris!! why?? i don't know ♥️ it just really speaks to me for some reason and they call it the star of many names, it's a polar star and you can see it at the end of the Big Dipper constellation (it's also called the North Star, obviously it's not a super NICHE favorite but i still love it)

my favorite planet in our solar system is Venus, for several reasons. its so visible in the night sky, and i always love seeing it. it's also called the earth's "sister planet," because they're approximately the same size, but the earth is a fertile rock planet with a very nurturing environment that allows for terrestrial life, while in the same solar system, Venus developed into a gas planet with a toxic environment where life (as we know it) would be impossible, and i think that's interesting♥️

i love studying constellations because i have lots of friends who live in different places and i like to know which ones they can see! i've never left the US so there are lots of constellations i've never even SEEN before, but when i care about someone i like to know which ones they can see.

#asks #i should write more im just not used to hyperfixating and then POSTING it

[cazort]

As someone for whom both spirituality and religion (having a community and an institution with its own traditions, structure, and resources, centering around spirituality and a shared value system) is important, I am really frustrated at the direction religion has gone in U.S. society.

We all know and agree that there are really deep problems with organized religion in the U.S.

What pisses me off though is that, instead of people changing and reforming the religion while keeping the good aspects of it, I see people digging in their heels behind the bad aspects while throwing out the good.

As an example, I attended a Lutheran church in Cleveland Heights, Ohio, during the year I lived there. I found the church meaningful and supportive in multiple ways. The church hosted events, including contradances, and I met some friends at events hosted in the building, during a time in my life where I was having trouble meeting people. I liked the services too. The pastor would give thought-provoking sermons that I felt challenged my value system and helped me to grow. Also, the church had a rich and ancient liturgy. People would sing hymns in four-part harmony, and many of the words were very old and poetic. The archaic language made me reflect on it in a way that helped me find meaning. I appreciated it on a lot of levels. It was a rich sensory experience and a comfortable one, and it inspired a sense of awe and wonder.

But there was an unfortunate negative side to this church. The congregation, not the pastor, harbored extensive homophobia. The pastor supported same-sex marriage and would sometimes preach about the need to welcome gay people into the church and support them. A majority of people in the congregation didn't like this, so they banded together and ousted him. Then young people like me started leaving the church.

And you know what the church did? They decided that they needed to change something about the church to try to attract and retain young people.

So they changed the liturgy.

They got rid of the ancient hymns with four-part harmony, the hundreds-of-years-old structure to the liturgy, and brought in a projector and started having the service be projected on powerpoint slides.

I hated this so much. I already had to watch powerpoint presentations during business meetings and I didn't want to be exposed to more of this during my off time. I hated the new music too; it was insipid and I was bored out of my mind singing stupid praise songs. Furthermore, I had bad mental associations with the new music, because I associated it with right-wing evangelical Christianity, box churches, and cult-like campus ministry groups. I had started going to this church because it offered the combination of rich, ancient traditions, being faithfully preserved by a community, with progressive, thought-provoking theology and value systems.

First the church rejected the progressive aspects of the value system, and then they rejected the aesthetic and cultural elements of the service that I found helped me to get in touch with deeper spiritual feelings.

I also find it interesting and relevant that the homophobia did not come from the top down, but the bottom up. The church was an ELCA church, which not long after this all went down, started officially recognizing same-sex marriage, and the denomination voted to explicitly welcome gay and lesbian people as early as 1991. It was the members of the congregation that ruined things.

Some years after I had moved away, I went back on Google maps and I saw that the church had closed, and its building sold and converted to condominiums. This made me really sad.

I remembered the time in my life, right out of college, where I had lived within walking distance to this church and walked to it. I remembered when it used to host contradances at night and I remember meeting my two friends who I made at those dances, who were important to me during a time in my life where I was vulnerable and had few friends. My life was hard enough even with that church. After all this stuff went down, I visited a number of other churches in the neighborhood but I didn't find another one that I liked as much. Although the church kept hosting the dances until it closed, the dance also has not been replaced. There is English Country Dancing and Scottish Country Dancing at two churches in the broader vicinity but no Contra Dancing anywhere near that neighborhood any more.

And all of this is gone and won't ever be replaced.

#religion #homophobia #elca #lutheran #evangelical lutheran church in america

[beans-in-your-socks]

list of reasons my parents should have gotten me assessed for autism earlier

I have had an obsession with microbiology since age 9

since I was probably 4-5 years old I have loved reptiles, more specifically snakes, and as a 6-year-old I voluntarily handled a snake overseas while the rest of my family was nervous, I showed no fear

i would watch documentaries for fun

all of my closest childhood friends were diagnosed autistic and I acted very similarly to them

these same friends thought i was already diagnosed autistic and were shocked when i told them i wasnt

I'm a doctor who fan. I think that says it all really.

I would always complain about Dad putting onions in the spaghetti sauce because I didn't like the texture

half of my family is neurodivergent

I could never wear heavily woollen clothing because of the texture

I had a phase where I really really wanted to be a paleontologist

as a kid, I would prefer to talk to adults rather than socialise with people my age

of my closest friends (both diagnosed autistic) and I held a PowerPoint night as a hangout and I did my PowerPoint on an extremely deadly microorganism

I then did a speech to my entire year group for a science project about that same microorganism

I always HATED being in loud places

I can't fucking sit still

when my mother and I would got to this one restaurant always order the exact same thing every single time

same with most restaurants, I would always order the same thing or something "safe" such as "beige foods" (chips)

I had a Pokemon phase that lasted probably 2-3 years

when i would buy stationary everything would have to be colour coordinated and done in "the right order" otherwise i would get very upset

i collect highlighters

i have a pile of rocks on my bedside table and I also like collecting rocks and crystals

i still watch Octonauts and Bluey at age 15

this probably isn't even half of it

"oh, but you're not autistic because I act like you and I'm not autistic!"

but hey mum and dad. you know autism is genetic..... right?

#autism

[butterfly-indulgence]

14DWY Sona

Loading...

A/N: Finally done with my angel sona for 14 Days With You! The game was made by @14dayswithyou ! Please check it if you haven't already! It's so good 😭) I might have gone crazy with this but I love making lore.

Credits to: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more for the loading bar!

System W01210 booting up...

> Hello helloooooo~ Greetings! System W01210 at your service!(◕‿◕)♡

> Having a good day? I hope you are! Now, sit down and get comfy because I'm gonna be telling you about my favooooorite host, Miss Anna! Hooray! Lemme pull out her profile... it should be here somewhere...

profile.jpg opening...

> There we go! Isn't she adorable???( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡ Her sense of style is 1000/10, don'cha think? Bet you wanna learn more about her, right? Right? Of course you do! Cause it's Miss Anna after all! Let's see... her lore... maybe I should have used powerpoint... too many files!

lore.txt opening...

In her original world, Anna was a normal girl living in the Philippines. Due to some unfortunate circumstances, she got murdered by an insane woman that had a grudge against her father.

After she died, her soul met a mysterious system that wanted to make her happy. It has the ability to bring her soul to a different world and giving her a new life since her original one had a tragic ending. But Anna didn't want to live in a new world. She wanted to go back to her original one; back to her family and friends.

Unfortunately, she was already considered dead, so the system can't do that. It's the natural Law of Worlds - once someone dies, they can never return. But still, Anna insisted. She wanted to be with her loved ones until the very end. Seeing that she was adamant about her decision, the system made a deal with her.

It will bring her to different worlds, each with their own story and Anna's task would be to achieve the happy endings of those worlds. Obtaining the happy ending gives Anna points and those would be used to give the system more power. Gain enough points, and the system would be able to defy the Law and bring her back to her original world.

> Sounds super exciting, right? So thrilling! ...And very tragic.

> Can I tell you a secret? This stays between us, okay?

> ...I lied.

> There's no point system. Nothing could ever give me enough power to defy the Law. I just didn't want Miss Anna to die. I made that deal so I can show her different worlds, hoping that one of them would compel her to let go of her lingering attachment to her old world. I think Miss Anna knows that I'm lying... but she's always been stubborn... clinging to that small ray of hope no matter how fake it is.

> That's why, I'm glad that I found 14 Days With You! The world suits Miss Anna's tastes! It's such a good match. A normal world where she lives a peaceful life... and there's someone that absolutely loves her there too! Hehe~ (─‿‿─)♡

14dwy_plot.txt opening...

Anna views the worlds she's been to as stepping stones. They were just ways for her to get more points. She never bothered to get close with anything or anyone she met in them. She just needed to act, complete the missions given to her by the system, achieve the ending, get out. Rinse and repeat.

It was the same with the 14DWY world at first. Achieve the happy ending with Ren and get out. Which is why she picks the 'red flag' options earlier on, such as inviting Ren to her apartment and letting him spend the night. (She does not go into the woohoo zone however. That's too much. If she was going to do that, then it's with someone she genuinely loves.)

But over time, she starts to like the 14DWY world. She feels content with the life she has and that scares her.

She starts to fall for Ren as well, despite all his glaring faults brought to light by information the system gave her. Ren is a stalker, he's unstable, capable of murder, he's a dangerous person. But he's also the one that follows her around like a lost puppy with that soft smile on his face, he calls her Angel with such a happy and gentle tone, he asks for her consent and makes sure not to cross her boundaries - it made her feel light... and sick at the same time.

After these realizations, Anna closes herself off even more. She shoves her feelings aside and starts to act like a generic game protagonist. A blank slate, only relying on the system's options.

Once the 14 days are up, Anna prepares to leave - only for Ren to discover her secret.

> Ahh... Miss Anna... really, super stubborn. So I had to pull some strings~ Otherwise, she would have -

𝕎𝔸ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾! 𝕎𝔸ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾! 𝕎𝔸ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾! 𝕌𝕌𝕌𝕌𝕌𝕌ℕℕℕℕℕℕ𝕀𝔻𝔼ℕ𝕋𝕀𝔽𝕀𝔼𝔻 𝕌𝕊𝔼𝔼𝔼𝔼ℝℝℝℝ 𝔻𝔼𝕋𝔼ℂ𝕋-.././\]][][]𝟚𝟛\]𝟙𝟜ℚ𝟝𝟛𝟟𝟛𝟠𝟞𝟚𝟛𝟝ℝ𝟟ℝ𝔼ℝℝ𝕆ℝ𝔼ℝℝ𝕆ℝ𝔼ℝℝ𝕆---

. . .

d o n o t

i t o l d y o u t o n e v e r m e n t i o n t h a t b u l l s h i t a g a i n

> Ahahaha sorry sorry but our dear readers need details you know?

i d o n t c a r e

s h e w i l l s t a y i n t h i s w o r l d w i t h m e

i w i l l m a k e h e r h a p p y

t h e r e i s n o o t h e r o u t c o m e

> Fine fine... so scary...

> Uwah! look what you did! you corrupted some of the files... ugh, fine. I'll tell the ending myself...

. . .

> Ahem! Sorry about that! Just experienced a brief error. No big deal~ Anyways...

> Ren found out about her world hopping and they had a... confrontation. It contained a lot of yelling, tears, and breakdowns... but that's a private affair between the two love birds, so I won't go into much detail. Though it did end with Anna giving up her butterfly charm to Ren.

> Why would the butterfly charm matter? Well, it's what establishes the connection between Miss Anna and I! That's why she always carries it around! And I must say, it makes a good accessory, yeah? Very stylish! Have I not mentioned that before? Oops. Teehee~ Now you know!

> Okay, back to Miss Anna giving Ren the butterfly charm. I'm in the way, you see? As long as Miss Anna has the butterfly charm, then she'll be able to travel through worlds. As I've said before, it's a fake ray of hope that she can cling to. That's why, in order for her to finally let go, Ren destroys it, thus severing the connection.

> After those events, Miss Anna will go on to live her life in Corland Bay with Ren! Happy ending! Woohoo!

> I'm a bit sad that my connection to Miss Anna is destroyed. I'm gonna miss her so much (；人；) I can still watch over her, but I can't talk to her anymore...

> Oh well. It was necessary.

> And that brings us to the end of this little story time. I hope you all enjoyed your time here! Even with the unexpected guest.

> ...Speaking of which... seems he's gone? He must have run off to Miss Anna again. How cute! ...Wanna know the other outcome that guy was so desperate to delete...?

01101100 01101111 01110011 01110100 00100000 01100110 01101111 01110010 01100111 01101111 01110100 01110100 01100101 01101110 00100000 01101101 01100101 01101101 01101111 01110010 01111001 00100000 01100101 01101101 01110000 01110100 01111001 00100000 01110111 01101000 01101111 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100001 01101110 01101110 01100001

> Hehe... goodbye for now!

System W01210 shutting down...

Have a nice life!

#epilogue: they both go to therapy #14 days with you #14dwy #14 days with you angel sona #14dwy angel sona #original character #myart #sona

[btwimkindagay]

About me

Thanks @littledreamling for the tag

Nickname: Usually Breezy! My first name is a place name, so some of my friends call me by other place names (but more commonly acquaintances who think they are funnier than they are 🙄)

Sign: Sagittarius sun, Taurus moon, Aquarius rising. I hope that doesn't give away all my secrets

Height: 5'7 or 170cm!

Last thing I googled: "Wilfred Owen Letter to Wife poem". It's actually called "The Letter"

Song stuck in my head: I don't have one at the moment which I'm grateful for because I have a headache which feels like someone is trying to lobotomise me through my left eye. (I've taken some painkillers so I'm just being dramatic until they kick in)

Followers: 138! Thanks to everyone for politely waiting out the Goncharov phase

Amount of sleep: I regularly get 9-10 hours of sleep because otherwise I feel so bad 😥 I am envious of people who need less because for me 8 hours and 4 hours feel the same 🤢

Dream job: probably also a professor, like Crow! I'd love to be able to do research on things I'm interested in (it's always gay nuns, but recently it's also polygyny within medieval Jewish communities), and chat with colleagues about theirs, and write articles, and make lots of powerpoint presentations (I love them because I can even script in my jokes), and see what the younger generation are interested in when it comes to history! However, as we have established I am a very tired person, so I'm not sure how well I would cope with the expectation of out of hours work.

Wearing: Blue silk pyjama bottoms decorated with little white vines and flowers, brown walking socks, and a long fluffy hooded! dressing gown which I would probably call maroon or burgundy. Don't judge me for this (or do, I deserve it).  For the more wattpad experience we can also say that I have thrown my long brown hair into a messy bun.

Books/movies that summarise me: I could ask my friends, or I could just insert a picture of the DSM-V here because that's what they'll all send me

Favourite song: I don't have favourite anythings to be honest, but my most played song this year (at a whopping 22 times) was Zitti e Buoni by Måneskin. Lyric-wise I'm still obsessed with Tongues & Teeth by The Crane Wives, specifically "I know that you mean so well, but I am not a vessel for your good intent".

Favourite instrument: I've played clarinet, recorder, guitar, and keyboard, none of which I had any talent for 😂

Aesthetic: I've been told so many things about how I dress so I'll try to keep it brief. I own an eclectic collection of dresses (probably 60+) and tend to favour colourful patterns for daily wear and single colour grecian-style drapes for formal events. I likewise own lot of colourful patterned tops (described by my friends as "pretty", "flattering", "interesting", and "like you took it from your mum's wardrobe" (she gave it to me)) which I wear with jeans. That said, I can most commonly be found in my "grandad" looks of a men's shirt open over a vest or buttoned to the bare minimum of decency, or one of my two favourite golf jumpers (one grey, one beige).

Favourite authors: I don't have favourite authors of books (though I definitely do for fanfiction), but I do want to read more Margaret Atwood because I've only read The Handmaid's Tale and that one quote from The Robber Bride that lives rent free in my head.

Random fun fact: I managed to get super glue in my mouth when I was decorating a christmas bauble with watch parts last night! Very on brand, I'm notoriously clumsy. I also only managed to super glue two of my fingers together, so that is a new record

Tagging @bidet-and-legolas @a-liittle-bit-of-both and anyone who fancies it!

#about me #tag game