#nd feel like shit for both not saying anything and not responding and for my fucked up sleeping hours and pptthttbhttbht

[mapleshmaple]

,

#OH BOY 5 (FIVE) AM TIME FOR SECRET EMOTIONS #sdgdsgsd go d my sleep schedules been so fucked and i feel like onw (1) my moms disappointed in me for that #and t(2)wo its. i wanna talk but i dont have the energy to respond or the spoons to start anything??? yknow??? #like im just. really extra tired and would like to talk and have the spoons to do so but i jsut. do not have them is the thing #nd feel like shit for both not saying anything and not responding and for my fucked up sleeping hours and pptthttbhttbht #that and i just. feel like i dont make sense half of the damn time so theres that and pPTHTHBTHBTTTT #idk im hopping from fuckin show to show from game to game trying to get an ounce of serotonin but it feels like im fuckin #hopping icebergs and one of thems gonna melt and then im gonna drown or some shit? i dunno

[introloves]

What about the best soft doms? 😏

once again here r my top 3! -

— soft dom! bokuto, sugawara, osamu + bokuto calls u pups + overstimulation + praise + slightly sadistic but soft sugawara ! + gender neutral reader except for sugawara’s + slight breath play w osamu’s

— bokuto: he fucks you mercilessly, messy, and to the brink of unconsciousness, kinda selfish but! he does it lovingly <3. he likes being in control of the angle of your hips, moving you so he can dig his cock deeper into you. when you start squirming, overrun with pleasure, unknowingly pushing back against him, he loves cupping your face, trying to bring you back to him.

“you okay pups?” he huffs into your own open mouth, god, if he wanted to he could so easily spit in it. but he holds back, this is to make sure you’re okay.

he’s stopped the ever consistent (consistent in how fast and precise his cock drags against that spot that makes you curl up in sensitivity) movement of his hips to let you rest. looking after you even now, making sure you’re enjoying this like he is.

“m-myeah. i’m good.” words are slurred together, takes you all but a minute to respond.

he nods, placing a fat messy kiss to your still open mouth, catching teeth and everything else before he straightens out. body towering over you, to gain that leverage once more.

“good.”

it’s all he says before beginning once more, paps of his hips meeting your own is so goddamn loud, loud, loud. you’re squirming again, chest rising off the bed because- fuck, maybe you weren’t good.

but you said it, let him know, so you must be? he doesn’t understand just how hard he fucks you, digging into you as if he’s scared the shape of his dick will leave your hole.

“it’s okay.” he huffs, a hand placed smack in the middle of your chest,

“you can take it. i know you can.”

makes sure to sing you praises through it all, calls you pretty, good, isnt afraid to tell you how good you feel against him with every chance he gets. he doesn’t care that you might not be listening bc you can’t, he fucks you too good to focus on anything other than him.

— sugawara: he has to be in the mood to give you small mercies. he’s a world class actor, have the sweetest, charming smile plastered on his face while hiding the true nature of what he’s thinking. the buildup to something harder in your guys’ sex life is a long nd torturous one. he’s all teasing and cute soft sessions of sex bc he want you to be the one to ask him to go harder.

“k-koushi?” your voice sounds so small, heavy with everything you’re thinking of and everything you want to say.

“hm? what is it baby.” he coos, thumb planted firmly on your clit, smiling with every shift of your hips to get him to relent just a bit. it’s almost painful how soft his thrusts against you are, makes you gasp and choke with every orgasm because it takes so damn long.

“i, uh.” it’s hard to get it out, makes you feel embarrassed with the thoughts that plague your head, could your sweet and kind boyfriend really fulfill the role you’re so desperate he takes on?

“c-can you go harder?”

there it is.

he keeps that saccharine smile on his lips while looking down at you, thinking to himself that it didn’t take long for you to break. makes him feel better for how hard he’s about to fuck you because if you asked then the blame wouldn’t be put on him.

he starts the slap of his hips against yours with no warning, the shift is sudden, has you quickly look for his biceps to dig your fingers into- something to ground you- make sure you’re not actually being fucked into oblivion.

— osamu: like sugawara (but for completely different reasons bc sugas a s*distic little shit) it takes some time for him to fit into the role of someone to be that dominant, but once he settles in he loves the way you reach for him- look for him to your pleasure, all the while holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

it’s the way you look up at him, eyes shining with tears while searching for his own. he lets you grab his neck to bring you closer, wanting to taste him- to muffle your moans with his mouth while he drives into you again and again.

“feels good?” he asks, his arms that have been resting by your head shaking with effort. osamu fucks with the intent to have you both spent and without energy.

it’s gentle and hard, fast and slow, he can do it all. the one thing that stays consistent, however, is the closeness.

with every pass of your orgasm he doesn’t seem to let you breathe, mouth on yours as soon as you start squirming and clenching down onto him.

“s-samu! i-i’m cumming- god i’m cumming!” you cry against his mouth, he lets you sing before smashing his lips down, tongue burying deep in your mouth making you suck on it while he starts those bone crushing thrusts.

he lets off once you’re done gushing around him, watching you intake lung fulls of air because you’ve gone dizzy with the depravity of it.

“beautiful.” is all he says, so close to shooting his load inside you, voice a deep rumble while burying his nose against your neck.

#bokuto #sugawara #osamu #haikyuu smut #bokuto smut #sugawara smut #osamu smut #bokuto x reader #sugawara x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #requests #asks #— no face. 🐉 #smut

[iwhishtomeetinournextlife]

An anonymous lover (Part 5)

Summary : Y/N sees Sirius Black running away after a particularly rough letter from his mother. She wants to cheer him up and decide to send him a letter, anymously, she knows how much he hates her house.

Warnings : Slytherin!Reader, female!reader, angst, arguing, not proof read

Word count : 2.2k

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - You're here - Part 6 - Part 7

English is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistakes

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

It is not possible. It is a mistake. He has dream of that moment so much, he is just imagining things now.

Sirius was in his dorm, laying down, looking at the stars on the canopy of his bed. He has stuck all the enveloppe he had receive decored with stars there, so he could see the sky before falling asleep, this had helped him to sleep better for the past few weeks.

But even the soothing looks of the stars could not help him calm his mind, he simply could not believe the person he was exchanging letters with, for now soon to be two months, was a slytherin. He knows her house shouldn’t be important, that no matter what she had helped him in so many ways, but he had developped such a hated for this house, he could simply not accept it.

He didn’t dare to compare the handwriting, fearing it would be indeed true, but after a few minutes he finally decided to look, he had to be sure, he couldn’t stay in the mystery like that for much longer.

He took the notes Y/N gave to him and the latest letter, the one he got today, it was a warming letter, she was talking about how she used to climb trees with her brother when she was a kid but never dared to go high, and how all the assignment was stressing her out and that writing to him helps her feeling better. Sirius felt like shit reading the lines.

He finally compare the two handwriting and threw his head back when they were the same. All the memories of the letter who were a source of joyed turned into a taste of disgust in the back of his tongue. What was before a blessing to be able to read those impossible lines became a curse. He hated it.

He hated how much of an impact her being a slytherin had on him, he didn’t want to deal with the emotion and decided to burry it deep inside of him. He didn’t copy the notes Y/N gave him and used Remus’ instead, he didn’t go to supper that evening, he didn’t respond to the letter like usual, and he didn’t sleep that night.

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

Y/N was a bit surprise to not have any letters from Sirius that night, she had not see him in the Great Hall either, that got her a bit worried. She tried to reassure herself, he did say he had difficulties with that specific potion so he was probably studying.

She laughed at that idea, she had never seen him study before, clever and smart Sirius. Always finding ways out of situation, always the right answer in class if he bothered participating. The two month were over soon she realised and he had still to find her. She felt a bit of dispointment but also a satisfaction of winning the bet. She blushed when she remembered Sirius had promised a date if he find her before. Would he still wants to ask her if the bet  was over ?

She thought for a moment, she hoped he would, she was still a bit scared to reveal herself, but she was confident everything would go alright if she did. After all, they had spend so much time sharing their hearts, it couldn’t desappear that easily, right ?

The next day she searched for him in the crowd and she felt her stomach flip, he looked livid, her first thought went to his mother, has she send another letter ? She felt so bad for him, she just wanted to hold him in her arms and tells him everything would be alright because he was capable of anything.

When their eyes met, Sirius quickly looked away, he didn’t want to see her, didn’t want to think of all the things happening in his head and she was only making things worse. Y/N didn’t know what to think of that, she decided to let him his space, he could always write to her if he needed her help.

But Y/N’s concern only got worse, it was Remus who gave her back her notes, and when she asked if Sirius was ok, he just nodded and said he will be alright. He completly ignore her in class, and wierdly enough he seemed to look at her way more often than before but always looked away when she noticed him.

She send a little message, a very short one, “Are you ok ? I’m worried”, all she was able to write down, she felt a weight in her stomach getting heavier every day and sharp glass in her throat forbbiding her to talk.

Those feeling only got worse when Sirius only responded with “I know who you are. Astronomy tower, 11PM, tomorrow” Y/N has never sweat that much in her entire life.

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

The walk from the dungeon to the astronomy tower was a long walk, and she was very careful to not get caught by anyone patrolling the corridors, she was trembling like a leaf in the wind. Each step getting heavier. But when she finally arrived, he was there, looking at the window, he turned to her when he heard someone enter.

For a solid second they just stand there, looking at eachother, not daring to say a word, but after a few moment it Y/N who spoke. “So... You know who I am”

“Yeah..”, his eyes looked in the void, he didn’t know what to do, he felt completly paralized. “Well.. What now ?” she didn’t dare to look a him either. “I don’t know”

Y/N froze for a moment, he didn’t know ? He is the one who asked her to come here ! After all they shared to one another, all the words exchanged, all those freaking kisses and hugs that’s all he had to say ? What for ? “Is it because I’m a slytherin ?”

Sirius didn’t answer for a moment but that spoke for itself, Y/N scoffed, tears running down her cheeks. “Of course” Sirius frowned “What do you mean by that ?”

“Of FUCKING course the great Sirius Black can’t deal with the fact he befriended a slytherin, how could have i been this stupid to think he could get over his own prejudice on a house he knows nothing about” Sirius stood from the window seat and walked to her visibly pissed “I know enough ‘bout yer stupid house to know t’s just a bunch a soon to be death eaters !”

Y/N open her mouth, completly shocked “Death eater ? Death. Eaters ? What do you even know about it ? Have you even try to talk to-” “Actually, yes, I did ! And mind ya all those I have talked to are nothing but monsters, so I prefer keep you and your kind away from me as much as possible”

Heavy tears were falling, how could he say that ? Her voice were cracking “Me and my kind ?! Do I look like a monster to you ?” Sirius opened and closed his mouth a few times “Maybe, yeah ! I know nothing about you !”

“NOTHING ?! I OPEN MY HEART TO YOU AND SERVED IT ON A GOLDEN PLATE !”

“WELL I DON’T WANT IT ! YOUR PEOPLE ARE NOTHING BUT A SHAME TO THESE SCHOOL, I DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND HOW YOU ARE LET STUDYING HERE !  NOTHING BUT ABOMINATIONS ! YOU WILL JU-”

“MAY I KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE ?!”

Y/N and Sirius froze, Professor McGonagall and prefect were standing at the door, arms crossed, a severe look on her face. “So ? I’m waiting”. Both the students were heads down, ashamed of being caught like four years old. It is Sirius who answered “Nothing Professor", she frowned when she saw the tears Y/N was quickly swipping away and her puffy eyes. “Well I am sure you will gladly do nothing at your detention tomorow after class”

“Yes Professor” have they replied in union, “Now, I believe you both know the way back to your dorm ? Go Miss Y/L/N, accompagny her Mister Collins, and it better not happen again” Y/N nod, unable to say another word and got out, following Collins. “Follow me Mister Black”, Sirius followed without a word.

After a few minutes, when they were starting to climb the moving stairs back to the Gryffindor commun room, she spoke, “I will not hide to you that I am quite desappointed Mister Black”, he frowned but before he could they anything, McGonagall added “I heard enough of your conversation to know what was happening, Mister Black” He felt his blood running out his face, probably leaving whiter than snow. “Professor I-”

“I don’t need your explainations, what you have said to Miss Y/L/N is simply intolarable, I thought better of you” Sirius was now red of shame, he didn’t know what to say, actually, he already regretted every words, he regretted them the second they have left his lips. “I can understand your disfavour toward the slytherin, I know your difficult relationship with your family and the fact they were all from this house, but I need you to understand that not all slytherin are bad people, the same way not all people who were from gryffindor turned out to be good people. Do you understand ?” Sirius nodded “I want you to think about it, goodnight Mister Black”

Sirius said goodbye and enter the common room before going to his shared dorm, he was not surprise to see that none of the marauders were sleeping. Sirius put the map he had used to sneek out in James drawer, his friend spoke “Where were you ?”

He didn’t answered at first, letting himself flopped on his bed, face first and groaning into his pillow. His friends looked at each other, worried, “Were you with a girl ?”, that only made him groaned louder. “C’mon, talk t’ us” said Remus, who stood up to sat beside his friend.

Sirius didn’t said anything for a moment, he was gnaw with guilt, he wanted all he said back, when he remember you crying his chest tighten, it was his fault if those tears were rolling down your cheek, if you were screaming at him, he had said such horrible thing to you but you didn’t said anything bad, you just observe a hard truth : this idiot could not go past his jugmental ass.

“The anonymous lover is Y/N”, all the marauders gasped together and hurried beside on his bed. “So ? What happenned ? You should be through the roof !” Sirius turned around, “I knew it for ‘ few days now”, James widen his eyes “ ‘nd you did tell us ?!”

Sirius grimaced “I know ! ‘m sorry ! ‘t just...” Remus frowned, something bad happened. “Pads, what have y’ done ?”, he simply put a pillow on his face, groaning and speaking intelligible words. “Wha’ ?”

“I TOLD HER SLYTHERIN WERE ABOMINATIONS !” they all sat there for a moment. James finally took the pillow from Sirius and hit him as hard as he possibly could with it “You. Are. An. I. DI. OT.”

“OUCH ! Yeah, YEAH ! I know, stop hitting me !” but he didn’t stop before a few more hit. He stop and catched back his breath. “I wouldn’t like to be you” said Peter, “Yeah, no shit Worm-” -another hit from James- “What do I do now ?!”

“Wha’ ? ‘cause you want her now ?” questionned Remus, he did not approve of his friend behavior, but he assumed that since he basicly called her a monster, he must not want to be with her. He observed his friend for a moment “C’mon, tell us everythin’ “

Sirius told them everything, from how he foud out, to what McGonagall had told him, passing by the horrible things he said to Y/N and him hiding his feelings away, getting interrupt occasionly by hit from James. But then he stopped, realising something horrible. “Oh no. Oh no no no no, I’M BECOMMING MY MOM !” He put his face in his hands. “I said such horrible things to her, she didn’t deserved any of it ! How do I make her feel better ?” He sounded desperate.

James put a hand on his friend’s shoulder “You gotta show her you really regret wha’ you said”

“Maybe some gifts ?” suggested Peter.

“Nah, first you have to deal with yer slytherin hate” said Remus.

Sirius frowned “What do you mean ?”

“If you want to date a slytherin, you have to deal with your irrational hate towards all of ‘hem”

“It’s not irrational ! I have perfectly good reas-” but he stopped mid-sentence, it was the argument with Y/N all over again, he sighed, he did need to deal with that.

“Let’s sleep, it’ll be better tomorow” said James who went to his own bed, the rest nodded and did the same.

Sirius put on some pyjamas and laid there for long minutes, thinking about why he hated slytherin so much, about his family, about Y/N. About the tears he caused, he wanted to punch himself for that, he swore that night that he will do anything to put a smile on her face and never see her cry again. He knew it will be hard but he will do anythign to deserve her fogiveness.

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

@blackpinkdolan  @jentaculargums @bruxa0007 @deathkat657 @theincredibledeadlyviper @bleh-bleh-blehs @whiskeypowder @edithsvoice @weasleybeb

#An anonymous lover #sirius black x reader #marauders x reader #sirius x reader

[marky4l]

Step by Step / Mark Lee

step by step / mkl

pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

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

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

notes: lia yeonjun chan hyuck jeno all make tiny appearances 

word count: 17.2k 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stares back at you. “No.”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 1: Denial|

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Two days later, you meet Mark again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

You eye him. “Okay…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a beat, and then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mark and I held hands. But it—”

“You what?!”

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

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

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

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

She nears you. “Explain.” 

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

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

“You like him, you bitch!” 

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m cherishing the party privately.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 2: Anger|

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

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

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

“I know,” you say, nervous. You gulp.

“Okay. If you’re n—”

“Mark and I kissed.”

She sits up and turns to look at you.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My legs are wobbly.”

“Bullshit. My back aches.”

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

He sits up. “What’s reality?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A toboggan, you mean.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 3: Bargaining, Depression|

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This all feels too real, now.

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You knew?”

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

—

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

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

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

“You sound nervous,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 4: Acceptance|

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, he’s my boyfriend now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

“Your bra sucks,” he jokes.

You love it.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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[ragingpancake]

I Will Try (To Fix You) - Part One

Here’s the thing: Rodney is an actual pain in the ass. They’d be hard pressed to find anyone in two galaxies who didn’t agree with that assessment but most of the time, John doesn’t mind. He puts up with all of Rodney’s neuroses with a kind of fond indulgence but there’s really only so much that one man can take, even if that man is John Sheppard, McKay whisperer. The trek to the Carnean settlement is long and it’s hot and John isn’t feeling charitable the fifty seventh time that Rodney complains about the heat. He snaps at the scientist in a way that he almost never does, even Teyla and Ronon visibly reacting to the sting of his words. Later, once they’re back home and John doesn’t feel like he’s going to sweat to death, he’ll ply Rodney with some chocolate and coffee as an apology, but now, he’s grateful for the silence. -- The Carneans aren’t quite what John expected. Most of the planets they trade with are primitive in technology, and the ones more advanced are usually comprised of a bunch of dicks. Teyla had warned that they were a peaceful people, but deeply, deeply religious in regards to their technology, believing them to be gifts from their Gods. She said it as a warning mostly to Rodney, who had horrible manners on even the best of occasions, but was known to abandon all pretense of any sort of civility when it came to shiny, new ancients toys that he could get his hands on. He promised to behave though, looking a little bitterly in John’s direction, clearly still smarting from the reprimand earlier, but John still won’t let himself feel bad about that when the armpits of his black t-shirt are completely drenched, leaving him to feel sticky and gross and still annoyed. To his credit, John can tell that Rodney really does try to behave. He questions the Carneans about their energy source almost delicately, even as his handheld is going crazy in his hand, alerting them all to almost ZPM level energy signals coming from just beneath them. His resolve to be, well, Rodney is slowly starting to break though and even though John warns him twice, voice growing more agitated as the Carneans grow increasingly uncomfortable with Rodney’s line of questioning. “Rodney,” Teyla interjects, forcing a smile to her face though her eyes never leave their leader, Arrens. “Perhaps it would be best if we—” “No, no! You don’t understand! This energy source is—” He yelps as Ronon scruffs him, grabbing him by the back of his tac vest to stop him from venturing to the giant pillars before them, the ones that lead down to their most sacred chamber. “Perhaps we should return to the village,” Arrens says and his voice is even, though clearly laced with barely concealed disdain for the scientist. John’s about to joke that he’ll have to get in line with all of the other people in Pegasus that Rodney has annoyed when Rodney wiggles free of Ronon and starts for the temple entrance. “McKay!” John snaps again and this time, it’s him who reaches out for Rodney, grabbing him none to gently by the shoulder, squeezing not so hard enough to actually hurt Rodney, but to get his attention. It has its desired effect and John leaves Teyla to offer their profuse apologies as he and Ronon set off for the Jumper, dragging Rodney between them.

--- “What part of sacred temple do you not understand?” John barks, whirling around on the scientist as soon as they’re far enough away from the Carneans. “For someone as smart as you, you have absolutely zero common sense!” “But the energy source--!” “I don’t give a crap about the energy source, Rodney! We need their grains, you know that, and instead, you’ve jeopardized this entire mission!” John’s sure why he’s so angry, but he’s hot, he’s tired, and once again, they’ll have to go back through the Gate empty handed all because Rodney couldn’t control himself for a total of two seconds. “Sheppard,” Ronon grumbles as Rodney seemingly wilts in front of them, not used to being on the receiving end of John’s Colonel Sheppard wrath and for a second, he feels a little bit like a dick. He takes a deep breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth and gestures to the Jumper. “Get in.” “Sheppard, I—.” “I said get in, McKay. We’ll have this discussion later.” --- They’ve only been back at the Jumper for about fifteen minutes when Teyla comes through the thick foliage and she doesn’t look nearly as put out as John expected. He knows that she’s been counting on those grains for the Athosian settlement too, but she seems in good spirits as they meet her at the ramp of the Jumper. “I have spoken to Arrens and explained Rodney’s… over excitement away as a bit of religious zeal. They were concerned at first that he might wish to desecrate their sacred temple, but they have been advised that he simply wished to learn more about their practices.” “That actually worked?” Ronon asks, eyebrow raised. “It is not uncommon for planets to simply trade knowledge, Ronon,” Teyla admonishes and she turns back to John. “They wish for us to join them for a meal so that we might continue talks of negotiation.” John glances at Ronon and then back to Teyla, gauging the situation before he finally turns his gaze to Rodney, leveling him with a glare. Rodney holds his hands up, handheld tucked away safely in his vest. “Best behavior, yes, I know. You’ll not hear a peep from me.” “I doubt that,” John snorts but he nods. “Alright then. And Rodney, if you so much as look like you’re going to mention that damn energy source, I’ll string you up myself. Clear?” “Crystal.” “Good. Let’s go.” --- The meal goes better than John expects, honestly. While Arrens still maintains a cool demeanor despite Teyla’s best diplomatic attempts to draw him into conversation, his son Atton speaks animatedly with both John and Ronon as Rodney finishes off his third bowl of stew. John has to cut him off from going back for a fourth as Arrens eyes seem transfixed on the scientist and Rodney’s already offended these people once today. John won’t allow him to do it a second time. “Lay off, McKay,” he mutters under his breath and Rodney whines like he always does when food’s involved. “But it’s good. When’s the last time we actually had a decent meal off-world? You think they do doggie-bags here? Maybe we can take it back home and the cooks can figure out how to—” Ronon elbows him in the side and Rodney doesn’t quite yelp but it’s a near thing and John figures the Carneans have probably had enough of Rodney for one day. Once again, John leaves Teyla to the niceties while Atton escorts the three men outside and it’s not long at all before Teyla joins them and they set off for the gate again. --- The walk back to the Jumper is much less miserable than it had been on the way to the settlement, for which John is eternally grateful. The sun is beginning to set, cooling the air and he finds himself much less agitated than he’s been for most of the day. Even the sound of Rodney gulping his water behind him isn’t enough to annoy him now, whereas earlier it very well might have sent John into a homicidal rage. “Did that stew leave a weird after taste with anyone?” He asks, and John rolls his eyes at that. “Nope, but we didn’t eat enough to feed an entire army.” Rodney huffs at that and tips his canteen up again,

frowning when he finds it empty. Teyla wordlessly passes her own to him, squeezing his shoulder gently, affectionately maybe, and John knows that while Rodney annoys the shit out of everyone they’ve ever met, he’s there’s and John isn’t the only one who is indulgently fond of Rodney. Even when he’s at his most annoying. --- Their return through the Gate is uneventful. Elizabeth is there to meet them when they arrive and John is feeling charitable enough now that he doesn’t even mention Rodney’s faux pas. He promises to have Teyla fill her in more on the trade agreement she’d been able to broker before he leads his team down to the locker room, Rodney strangely quiet the whole way. John’s about halfway through removing his gear when he glances over at Rodney, one eyebrow raised to find him sitting on the bench, still in his tac vest and thigh holster. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks, kicking Rodney’s boot gently with his foot to get his attention and Rodney startles, lifting his gaze to meet John’s. “What? Uh, nothing. Nothing, it’s just… my stomach feels a little…” He gestures vaguely and Ronon laughs behind them, clapping Rodney on the shoulder. “Must have been that third bowl. One of our commanders back on Sateda had a large appetite, but I think even you could out eat him, McKay.” “Gee, thanks,” Rodney frowns as John goes back to hanging up his vest, surreptitiously glancing over at the other to find that he does actually look a little green around the gills. “You wanna go see Beckett?” John offers after a moment. “No, no. Chewbacca’s probably right,” Rodney says as he unstraps his holster and stands, shrugging off his tac vest. “We all had the same thing, and you’re all fine.” John just shrugs. It’s not the first time Rodney’s eaten himself to a stomachache and he’s pretty sure it won’t be the last. “Alright,” he says, clapping Rodney on the shoulder, a little more gently than he’d been earlier in the day. “If anything changes though…” “Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.” “Alright. Debriefing in an hour. I’ll see you there.” “Yeah,” Rodney agrees. “See you.” John does not actually see Rodney later. At least not while he’s conscious. --- It happens really fast. Rodney doesn’t actually show up for the debriefing but that in and of itself is not really weird; he’s skipped more than one debriefing over the last few years, but there’s something gnawing uncomfortably in his gut anyway. They finish up and by the time they’re done, John thinks he’s probably just being a paranoid asshole, but he taps his comm, needing Rodney to confirm he’s good. “Sheppard to McKay, come in.” Silence. “Sheppard to McKay, Rodney, respond.” John glances over at Ronon and Teyla who have both been standing by, Teyla looking as worried as John feels and Ronon… well, Ronon looks pissed off, but John knows that that’s Ronon’s default when it comes to concern. “Sheppard to Zelenka, come in.” This time, his radio crackles immediately in his ear. “Zelenka here, go ahead Colonel.” “Hey Dr. Z, is Rodney down there?” John waits impatiently, but even before Radek answers, John already knows. “No Colonel, he is not here.” “I will check the infirmary,” Teyla says, squeezing John’s wrist. “Ronon, the mess. John, perhaps you should check his quarters. If Rodney was not feeling well, it’s likely he is in one of these three places.” “Yeah,” John nods. “Yeah, you’re right, okay. As soon as you find him, radio in.” They disperse quickly and John doesn’t mean to, but the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach twists and he realizes that at some point, he’d started to jog to the transporter to take him as close Rodney’s room as possible. “Sheppard to McKay,” he says again, a little breathless as he steps out of the transporter, “Rodney, I swear to God, you better be alright or I’ll kick your ass.” Even the threat of bodily violence doesn’t raise him and by the time John skids to a halt in front of Rodney’s door, he’s expecting the worst. He pounds on the door once, giving Rodney the

chance to open it, but when he hears nothing inside, he palms the door open to find Rodney face down on the floor, lying in a puddle of his own vomit. “No. No, no, no.” John closes the distance between them, calling for a medical team with barely concealed fear in his voice as he drops down to his knees, rolling Rodney over onto his side as he presses two fingers to the side of his neck. He can feel a pulse there but it’s rapid and thready. “Rodney, c’mon buddy. You gotta wake up, hey, hey, c’mon. Wake up, Rodney.” He’s babbling, he knows that, but he doesn’t know what else to do until he hears the sound of the medical team in the hallway, sprinting toward them, Teyla and Ronon both hot on their heels. “What happened?” Beckett barks as they spill into the room and John drops back on his ass, away from Rodney so that they can work. “I don’t… I don’t know, we just got back and he said he had a stomachache but he was fine and he--.” Ronon hefts John back to his feet, as Beckett assess the situation, calling down to the infirmary to warn them of their imminent arrival as Rodney’s lifted onto the gurney, his body sickeningly limp. “Did he ingest anything off world?” He calls over his shoulder, expecting them to follow, and they do, Ronon forcing John to keep moving. “Colonel!” Carson snaps when John doesn’t immediately answer as one of the nurses places the ambu bag over Rodney’s face. “We took part in a meal with the Carneans, but we were all served the same food,” Teyla answers for John when it becomes clear that he won’t, or rather, can’t. John can’t tear his eyes away from Rodney as his chest rises and falls only because of the bag forcing air into his lungs. “Blood pressure’s dropping!” Simpson announces as the doors to the infirmary open and the last thing they hear is Beckett cursing as the doors close in their faces. --- He should’ve forced him down to the infirmary. The moment Rodney gave any indication that something was off, John should’ve marched him down here himself, but Rodney had been a pain in the ass all day and-- John had figured he’d deserved a bit of a stomachache for as much trouble as he’d almost caused and if Rodney wasn’t okay, John would--. John had no fucking idea what he’d do. They’re sitting outside of the infirmary, John’s leg bouncing nervously, head cradled in his hands with Teyla and Ronon flanking him. Others had come when word began to spread, Elizabeth and Radek, even Lorne, posted near the door. It’s unsettlingly quiet, only the muffled sounds spilling through the doors to be heard. Their vigil seems to stretch on forever. Seconds into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into--. Honestly, John has no idea how long they’ve been here. Time has no meaning in this moment and while it feels like it’s been days, after what in reality was only thirty minutes, Beckett steps out, looking more grim than John thinks he’s ever seen him, including the time that John turned into a bug. “We don’t have much time,” he says, glancing to Elizabeth. “I need permission to move him down to the Stasis pods. His condition is rapidly deteriorating and without an antidote on hand--.” “Antidote?” Ronon interrupts, hand clenched into a fist at his side. “Are you saying McKay was poisoned?” “Aye,” Beckett answers shortly. “Elizabeth, his organs have already begun to shut down at an alarmingly rapid pace. If we delay this--.” “Go,” Elizabeth says at once and Carson is gone before there’s a chance to ask anything further. John doesn’t need to know anything else though. He stands, nodding at Ronon and Teyla to go gear up and without a single word, the two turn, reading his body language clearly enough. John will be right behind them, but first he needs to make sure Rodney gets to where he’s going. The doors open again, the medical team moving at a quick pace, but John keeps up with them easily, coming to a stop only once they reach the stasis chamber. Rodney is sickeningly gray now and if John didn’t know better, he’d think he was already gone. He reaches for the other’s

hand as Beckett and one of the nurses ready the pod and he squeezes Rodney’s fingers as he leans in close to his ear, willing Rodney to hear him. “I will fix this,” he vows, lips brushing the outer shell of Rodney’s ear. “I will burn that entire fucking planet down if I have to, but I promise you, I will fix it. Hang on, Rodney. Please.” “Colonel,” Beckett says, shouldering John bodily out of the way. “Get a move on, son. The stasis pod will keep his organs from shutting down any further, but I need that antidote if there’s any hope of bringin’ him back from this.” John does not need to be told again. --- Arrens is prepared for their return. There is a group of armed men waiting at the gate, Arrens standing unapologetically behind them. John wants to blow them all to pieces as soon as the Jumper clears the event horizon but Teyla reminds him as calmly as possible that doing so will make it impossible for them to find the antidote. Instead, he touches the Jumper down and they’re out, weapons raised. “You come to our village,” Arrens booms, “attempt to desecrate our templeand return to turn your weapons upon us?” “Give us the antidote and we will leave, never to return again!” Teyla responds, neither John nor Ronon moving to lower their weapons. “We did not intend to offend your Gods; Doctor McKay had no malicious intentions.” Arren is not moved, however, but there’s another, Atton, who steps forward, maybe to act as a liaison for his people, but it’s all John needs to move. It happens so quickly, that none of the Careans have an opportunity to fire as John grabs the boy, arm around his neck as Atton struggles, hands up in surrender. “Please, Colonel Sheppard--.” “Nothin’ personal, kid,” but John’s not leaving here without that antidote. “You have five seconds to give us what we’ve come for. Do not make me ask again.” “My… my bag,” Atton struggles, but John does not hear him as his grip tightens around his throat. “Release him at once!” Arrens bellows, and he steps forward, as if to charge them but Ronon aims his weapon, finger on the trigger and the man stops. “Arrens, please,” Teyla tries, “there need not be bloodshed between our two peoples! Gives us the antidote!” Atton hits John’s wrist, struggling against him, blunt nails digging into skin and he tries again. “B… a…” And then John spots it, the tiny vial that’s tumbled from the bag dropped by the boy when John grabbed him. “Ronon!” The Satedan surges forward, grabbing it at the same time John releases Atton, who falls to his knees, gasping for air. “If he dies,” John snarls, aiming his side arm at the leader of the Careans, almost begging the man to give him a reason,“there is no place in this galaxy that you will be able to hide.” “John,” Teyla pleads urgently, trying to usher him back towards the Jumper. “We must go. Rodney is in great need.” And it’s that reminder that snaps John out of it as he backs into the Jumper, Ronon already dialing. --- Even with the antidote, they have no way of knowing if Rodney’s going to make it. The damage to his insides was extensive; his kidneys had shut down completely and Carson warns that if he wakes up, there very well could be weeks, if not months of dialysis treatments. They still have no way of knowing if there was any damage to his nervous system, and they won’t know until he wakes up. Carson speaks in hypotheticals, using if instead of when and John finds that every time he does, he wants to scream. If he’d been less pissed at Rodney, if he’d paid a little bit more attention, he could’ve caught this. The increased thirst, back on the planet, that could’ve been their first sign that something was wrong and they could’ve-- He should’ve--. Whether Rodney wakes up or not, John knows that he’ll never forgive himself for this one.

---

In the end, Rodney does wake up. He does so quietly, without fanfare, alerting at first only John when Rodney squeezes his fingers gently where they’re linked through his own. He sits up from where his head had been pillowed on the bed at Rodney’s hip and for a moment, when he sees those blue eyes staring back at him, he can’t quite breathe. “John,” Rodney rasps, voice hoarse, a bit pained. “Where… what…?” “Hey buddy,” John greets, leaning back in his chair for a split second to signal to Marie before his gaze flickers back to Rodney’s ashen face. “You’re okay. You’re in the infirmary. You’ve been here for a couple of days.” A couple of days which felt uncomfortably like an eternity. Rodney’s eyes close again and for a second, John thinks maybe he’s slipped back into unconsciousness, which Beckett had previously warned could happen, but then Rodney’s blinking up at him. “The… the energy source,” he manages. “There was… ‘m sorry.” “Hey, hey,” John says and he scoots forward in his chair and John can hear Beckett approaching, knowing it won’t be long before John’s forced to give up his seat at Rodney’s side while he’s examined. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Rodney.” And least nothing that Rodney should be sorry for. John, on the other hand… “You’re gonna be okay though. You hear me? You’re gonna be fine, I promise.” Rodney nods and closes his eyes again, clearly exhausted from the short exchange. Beckett steps in and John starts to pull back, to let the other work, but Rodney grips his fingers again. “Stay,” he rasps and John glances at Beckett who gives a barely there nod. “Alright,” he says, settling back down into his chair. “I’m here, buddy. I’m not goin’ anywhere. I promise.”

#mcshep #hurt/comfort #john sheppard #rodney mckay #hurt!rodney #whumped!rodney #sga #stargate atlantis #pre-mcshep #mcshep getting together #angst

[jadedxrealityw]

-Mind Stone- Peter Parker x Female Reader Part 2

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: Part 2 in this shit

  Movie/Show: After Endgame, but no one died because ignorance is bliss.

  Summary: In the attack of 2012, you were given powers that you couldn’t understand at such a young age.

  Possible Triggers / Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of blood and harm,

    ☼-☪-☼

   Tony handed you a bandaid. You took it from his hand and notice the cartoon picture of Iron Man on it. What a not surprised in the slightest. You peel off of the paper backing and stick it over the small wound caused by the needle. “Were done, but i want you to stay here until we can get Thor and antlers here”

   you exhale deeply. After already spending the night you thought you’d be back at the girls home by now. Not that you wanted to go back, you just didn’t want to hear Nancy’s bitching once you did return “I think my caretaker might worry about me if i’m gone again” 

   Tony placed the tablet he was holding on the counter and looked at you “Yeah she’s a real piece of work isn’t she. You have special permission now” he says. What in the vague. You hop off the chair and feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

   you stuck your hand into the dark grey sweatpants you wore. Wanda offered you clothes to sleep in so you wouldn’t be so uncomfortable. She gave you a matching slightly cropped tank and sweatpants. She was a sweetheart. Once you pull out your phone you tap the screen. 

   it was a text from Peter ‘Can you get away for a minute?’ you hold back the urge to smile and look up at Tony “Can i go?” you ask and he waves his hand, shooing you way “Yeah we’re good. Get some rest and make sure to hydrate. Now get out”

   you roll your eyes with a half smile before walking towards the door “Bye” you say before pushing it open and heading out.

    ☼-☪-☼

   you push open the door you were staying in and saw Peter sitting on the bed, picking at his nails. He looks up once he hears the noise and smiles upon seeing you “Hey” he says. You smile back and walk over to stand in front of him, looking down to meet his gaze “Hello”

   Peter looks at you then the bed. What is he a bed? You take a seat next to him, but end up laying back to look at the ceiling “You look tired” Peter says and lays back next to you. You chuckle quietly “Yeah. I got my blood drawn, but at least it’s over with”

   Peter hums in response. You notice he awkwardly folded his hands over his chest, not knowing what to do with them. You shuffle over and lay your head on his chest, feeling him instantly tense up. “Is this okay or are you going to implode?” 

   he shakes his head “No!-” he protests “i mean it’s okay, just uh- just stay there” he says in a more quiet tone. You stifle a bit of laughter and curl up next him, feeling a bit drowsy at this point. Peter wraps arm around your waist “Are you tired?”

   “Yeah a little” you respond, closing your eyes. Peter holds onto you as he moves to the top of the bed, laying his head on a pillow “You should sleep then, i’ll wake you up if something happens” he talked in a more hushed tone now. You smile  before dozing off. 

   “Y/n?” he says before he is interrupted by quiet snores. He smiles to himself, wishing he didn’t leave his phone in his bag so he could take a picture of you. Would that be weird? It’s not like he would made it his lockscreen. Nevermind that’s the exact reason he would take a photo.

   he raised his free arm to try and web his bag to him, but once he did you started to stir slightly “Not worth it not worth it” he mumbles before kissing your head. He stays still until you stop moving before exhaling. He had never cared about another person's nap so much.

   damn his arm was starting to fall asleep. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   an hour later

   Wanda opened the door to your room and was slightly surprised to see Peter playing with your hair while you slept on his chest “Uh- i knocked, why didn’t you say anything?” she asked. Peter looked down at you for a moment then Wanda “I didn’t want to wake her up. I also can’t feel my arm”

   she smiles brightly at the young love “Why didn't you just move her” she questions, folding her arms across her chest “I have never moved each time you fell asleep on me” Vision spoke from behind her. Wanda looks at him with a slightly shocked expression “You can move. I wouldn’t have been mad”

   “That’s not the point darling. I don’t want to move” Vision replies. Wanda sighs “Will talk more about this later’ she says to him before “Tony would like to see her in the main lobby. i’m assuming he doesn’t know your here?” she says with a small grin. 

   Peter smiles nervously “Yeah- i snuck in. I- i- can get her up. Just give me a few minutes” he said with a pleading look. Wanda smiles, nodding and grabs Visions arm “Bye Peter” she said and walked alongside her lover, closing the door shut. 

   Peter sighs, not really wanting to move at this point, but knew you had to be somewhere. He starts to softly shake your shoulder “Y/n- Y/n you have to get up. Mr. Stark needs you in the lobby” you mumble something incoherent to him before rolling over onto your other side. “No”

   he chuckles to himself and stretches his arm for a second “Come on- we can always sleep later” he tries to rationalize. You groan out before propping yourself up on your elbows “Fine, but i’m not going to enjoy whatever the hell is happening” you say in an attempt to be petty. 

   you hear Peter laugh at your response “I’ll come with you then” he suggests. You smile slightly at the thought and throw your legs over the bed. “Let’s go then” you say and let out yawn. You walk over to the side of the bed Peter was on nd slip your feet into the slippers on the floor. 

   Peter stands up and reaches up to fix his now bed head. You lift your hand and move a piece of hair from his face “Thank you” he says and you nod. Suddenly, he leans down and captures your lips in his, catching you a bit off guard but you weren’t complaining. 

   you went to pull away when one his hands was placed on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. Well damn Peter Parker. He deepens the kiss more by placing his other hand on the nape of your neck. After a couple seconds you both pull away “What was that for?” you ask. 

   “I haven’t got to kiss you all day” he says with a brow raised like it was so obvious. “Oh okay” you hold back some laughter. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   you and Peter walk to the lobby. During your small walk he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kept you close to him while he talked about how he got his powers. A radioactive spider. That seemed much more awesome then being manipulated by a god at the age of six.

   “Well look at you two” you both look up too see Tony grinning at the both of you so close together. Peter’s face flushes, but he keeps his arm around you “Tony don’t tease them” Wanda comments. Peter hides his face behind your head until the redness went down. 

   “Nice one Spider-Boy” you comment, earning yourself a small growl under his breath, which was interesting to hear to be honest. Suddenly a yellow circle appeared in front of the glass doors. You instinctively take a step back, but Peter keeps you in place “It’s okay” he reassures. 

   you trust his word and stay put as the circle grew quite large. A man stepped out. He was wearing sort of medieval clothes with a maroon cape that seemed to move on its own- Dr. Strange? “Hello” he said to the room and steps to the side as....Thor the god of thunder steps  through the portal, hair cut short.

   at first you were slightly fangirling inside, but then it sunk in who would walk in next. In all his glory, Loki the god of mischief walks through and stands next to his brother. He was wearing an all black suit. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to throw up or run away- maybe both. 

   “Would anyone like to explain why we’re here?” Thor asks, shaking Tony’s hand. “I would also like to know that, considering no one here likes me” Loki adds, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. “Yeah antlers shut it- 2012 attack. Remember talking to a little girl?”

   Loki gave Tony a strange look “May i remind you all that i was under the control of Thanos and barley remember a thing. Also, what little girl? I hate children” he says with a face of slight disgust. “I might be able to help you all with that” Strange cuts in.

   “Even if you don’t remember anything. Those memories are still locked away in your head. I could access them” he says, gesturing to one of his hands. Loki looks him up and down “I will not have anyone inside my head, that’s sort of my thing” he retorts. 

   Thor crosses his arms over his broad chest “Why is this important?” he directed his question to Tony. “Infinity Stone cleanup.” he says vaguely. Loki sighs and takes a deep breath after “Fine- make it quick and only look at what you need too.

   Strange steps forward “Trust me- i don’t want to look at anything else” he reassures amd steps behind Loki. He placed his hands on either sides of Loki’s head and began to mumble a few words. In an instant it was like Loki became a projector.

   his memory was played in a hologram like manner. Peter and you watch from behind so its inverted for the both of you- not like you haven’t lived through it or anything, but okay. All of you watched as Loki gave you the powers and your tiny body float up then faint. 

   once the memory was over Loki watched the tiny child disappear along with the memory and left standing behind the little girl was you. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together at this point. “Why did you show me this?” Loki snapped, pushing Strange’s hands away from his head. 

   “Because reindeer games. You under the raisins control only gave her a tad of the Mind Stone’s power- just the teleportation and portals. You gave her some of your powers” Tony says. The room collectively gasped “I- What?” Loki replied before looking at you. 

   you felt your body tense a bit. Peter felt his spidey sense flare up and kept his arm tightly wrapped around you, but for so long you wanted to confront this guy. Tell him off. Wish him dead, but you had just learned it wasn’t his fault. What were you to do now?

   you push away from Peter, despite his protest and confidently walked up to Loki, stopping a few feet away from him “Hey, i guess” you say, shrugging your shoulders. Loki gulps and nods at you “Hello. I uh- i apologize for what i did” he said, you can tell he was struggling to find the words. 

   you wave your hand “Don’t be. You can do one thing for me though” you say, a malicious grin making a way to your face. Loki narrows his eyes before answering “and that would be?” he asked. What could you possibly want from him?

   “Teach me how to use it”

    ☼-☪-☼

   a month later

   “You can do better” Loki scolded as he circled around you. You were both in the training room and had been at it for three hours. You were regretting asking him to teach you how to use these damned powers. “Go again!” he exclaims and you form to blades as he charges at you. 

   you push yourself left and watch as Loki stumbles a bit. You use this opportunity to drop down and kick him completely off balance. Loki falls to the floor and as you went to hit him, he kicked you in the chest, knocking the wind out of you “OH you slimy prick!” you coughed.

   Loki grins as he pushes himself off the floor “I’ll add it to the list of things you call me” he says before coming at you again. You stood there and waited until he was inches away before dropping to the floor and sliding across. You end up behind him and wrap your arm around his neck, holding the blade against it.

   you could Loki huffs to try and catch his breath “Much better. Now we’re done for the day” he declares. You exhale and let go of him “Thank god” you say and wave your hand, the blade fading away. “I’ll clean up, you leave. I’m sure your bug boy is waiting for you” Loki rolls his eyes. 

   “His name is Peter and he’s scared of you” you say with narrowed eyes. His frown turns into a small grin “Good” he replies. You chuckle to yourself before walking towards the door “Bye Loki” you say before walking out the room. Time to hit the showers. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   after taking a shower, you sat down on your bed, looking out the window. You wished Loki was right about Peter waiting for you, but he had been busy all week with crime and patrolling. He was Spider-Man after all. You had just hadn’t expect to be so clingy. 

   it was late as much you wanted to stay up for him you decided to just get some rest. You had put on Peters midtown sweatshirt he left a couple weeks ago. It smelt like him so it’ll have to do until you could see your actual boyfriend ago- holy shit. He had never really asked you to be his girlfriend.

   how come you didn’t notice that before? You were just happy to be with him that you didn’t care about the labels and such. Strange. You climb into bed and pulled the comforter over you while grabbing a pillow to hug close to your chest. It helped you fall asleep sometimes. 

   you plug in your phone and place it on the empty space in the bed. Closing your eyes you force yourself to drift off to sleep so tomorrow could come quicker. It was child like logic, but hey- sometimes children logic is all you need. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   a couple hours later

   your eyes slowly open and your met with the sight of Peter in his suit, just outside your window. He was knocking on it and looking around outside. Not creepy at all. You get up out of bed, using one hand to rub your eyes while the other undid the latch of the window. 

   “Hey. Sorry for waking you” he says, climbing into the room and taking off his mask. You walk back to your bed and pick up your phone “Peter it’s two in the morning. Isn’t May going to worry where you are?” you question. YOu turn around just as his suit faded into the spider symbol. 

   Peter shakes his head and places the symbol down on the dresser “No. She knows i’m staying here tonight” he says. You narrow your eyes, walking over to him “You didn’t tell me you were staying over. I haven’t gotten any time with you this week” you say with a small pout. 

   he smiles and grabs your hands “That’s why i’m here- is that my sweatshirt?” he asked, looking down at the blue piece of clothing. You shrug “Maybe” he shakes his head “You look really good in it Might have to let you keep it” he says and leans down to give you a kiss, but you turn your head away.

   “I wasn’t planning on giving it back to you bug boy” you tease. Damn- you gotta stop hanging out with Loki for awhile. Peter’s face drops “I’m ignoring the bug comment for now. You rejected my kiss. I haven’t kissed you all week Y/n” his tone was whiney and made you want to laugh. 

   “I’m sorry” you say trying to hold back laughter. Peter smiles and finally plants his lips on yours, It was like every other kiss, sweet. Until Peter did his whole hand on the back of your neck thing to pull you in for deeper kiss. You reach up to wrap your arms loosely around his neck. 

   Peter lifts you off the ground and places you on the bed, breaking the kiss “Hm. I missed that” he whispers and leans his forehead against yours. You smile, looking up at him. You arms fall as you let out a yawn “and i missed my human pillow, now get under the covers”

   “Yes ma’am” he replies with a quiet laugh and lays on his back. You lay your head on his chest and tangle your legs with his. Peter pulls the blanket over the both of you “Night Y/n” he says and kisses your head sweetly before closing his eyes. You smile and close yours as well. 

   “Goodnight Peter”

    ☼-☪-☼

   Click here to join my Taglist

   ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: shitty end, but hey i thought it was decent. Request be open btw. Anyways, peace. 

#peter parker #spiderman #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x female reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x fem!reader #spiderman x female reader #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #the vision #vision #wanda maximoff #loki laufeyson #thor odinson #tony stark #tom holland

[flying-ryan]

luckenbooth

Ryan figured they must have practiced their careful ritual of decoratively functional ties bound in silken ropes fifty times by now. Consequently, a part of him marveled at how not a single legitimate knot seemed to have passed the haze of utter ecstasy that was Luca's pretty submission. 

The boy was the most emotive soul he’d ever met and Ryan loved him for it. Regardless, the lack of technique in the loose binding allowed him to slip easily from the soft ties. He sat up to scoop Luca into his arms and hushed his quiet protests. “It’s alright, little love. I’ve got ye.”

“What if I’m not enough.”

Ryan nearly chuckled, but managed to bite it back. He rubbed his bearded face into his lover’s soft curls, breathing him in and holding his shuddering body close as he sobbed into the pilot’s chest. There were a million ways to respond, and after a long quiet moment of soothing kisses, whispers, and hands, made a decision.

“Tell me again about yer sister’s marriage.”

Luca stilled, considering. When he glanced curiously up at the older man, he only smiled.

“Well. Uh. I mean you already know the story but- okay.” Luca thought for a moment, and then sighed, letting his body sag against the pilot who only held him closer as they talked. “ Liva nd Enz? They’ve sort of always been married. He stayed the night one night at our old place and just never left.”

“Tell me again how long they knew each other?”

“Before they got married?”

“Before they wanted to.”

“Oh.” Luca brightened, smiling at the colorful memories that played through his head. Olivia didn’t fall into love with Enzo, she face-planted. But watching it happen was like watching a field of sunflowers bloom. He smiled sheepishly, beginning to wonder at his boyfriend’s intentions. “It wasn’t much.”

“Aye.” Ryan pulled Luca impossibly closer. “That sounds about right.”

Luca pressed against the cage of his lover’s painted arms only to make enough room to twist around in. He’d mostly shifted from anxiety to curiosity and needed a better look at Ryan’s bright blue eyes. “Zero to 100.” Luca watched the way Ryan watched his lips. “Every one of us.” The boy’s slim fingers curled around the older man’s neck and began a slow roll. “Mason calls it a Cerrillo family curse.”

The pilot’s heavy, tattooed hands found Luca’s slim hips and he couldn’t help the groan that ripped from him at the feel of Luca shifting, desperate for friction, against him. “Fuck I’m in love with you, boy.” 

He spit his filthy praise while Luca worked gentle kisses over the fuzz of his chest. Without thinking his hands knotted in the boy’s hair to push him lower.

“My people believe in that shit.” He gasped, doing his best to keep the conversation when Luca’s warm mouth opened for him. His favorite, soft, pink, perfect lips parted for his swollen cockhead and he throbbed against the boy’s tongue. His mind was spinning. He’d never needed anything half as much. “Curses. Fate. Enchantments.” Each word peppered the air with heavy, hungry sounds of breathing and slick flesh.

Luca popped off his cock only enough to smirk and tease. The pilot’s mouth fell open at the sight before he bit his own lip and smiled. “Are you saying you believe in magic, LT?” 

“Aye.” They both chuckled and then moaned when the pilot’s hand tried to guide Luca’s mouth back down. He was harder than steel and so far beyond ready to be buried up to the boy’s diaphragm, but still had a job to do. “Now that I’ve met ye I fookin��� do.” 

His sounds were slipping into something feral. If he didn’t stop now, he wasn’t going to. Luca’s sweet mouth was too good. It had been far, far, far too long. Sometimes, just a few hours was far too long.

“Baby boy, com’ere.” He used the grip on Luca’s hair to pull him up. “Up here, little love. We need to talk.”

Luca’s happy, horny haze dissipated and Ryan frowned at the anxiety that bloomed just behind his lover’s beautiful brown eyes.

The pilot stroked the boy’s face as he climbed up to meet him. He planted a soft kiss to Luca’s nose before he flipped them, smiling at Luca’s responding yelp with the sudden movement. Their bodies always moved like they were dancing, like everything was already choreographed between their bones and all they had to do was play along. 

Luca’s mouth opened for Ryan’s kiss at the same time his legs fell further apart. The pilot pressed into him, a silent promise, before kissing his chin and pulling away.

Luca scrambled, sputtering confusion and trying to claw at his boyfriend for the few seconds it took to realize he was only reaching for the small dark drawer nestled into their custom bedside. “A present? For me?” 

Ryan’s chuckle was louder, uninhibited. The joy Luca brought him was worth every single cost ten times over again.

“Is it a toy?”

“No.” That he had to respond to. But he didn’t mean to add the sudden seriousness in his voice. He cleared his throat to try again, finally turning back to Luca with a little black box. “Luca.” 

He held the box out to his boyfriend and found himself both surprised and enchanted when the usually boisterous boy couldn’t seem to find his voice. His slim, pale hands with dark, painted fingernails didn’t hesitate to snatch the tiny box.

“Luca, my love.” Ryan tried again, smiling at the tears that welled up in his lover’s soft eyes. He clutched the gift to his chest, trying so clearly to hold himself together. “Don’t cry yet, boy. You haven’t even opened it yet.”

“I don’t even need to-” Luca sniffled, rubbing at his eyes while Ryan laughed.

“Okay who are you and what have you done with my boy. Next you’re going to tell me you want a salad for dinner.”

“Okay now you’re crossing a line.” Luca teased back and they shared a quiet smile before a kiss.

“Open it.” Ryan muttered with his forehead pressed against the boy’s soft cheek.

A beautiful hand grazed the edge of the box one last time before peeling the smooth metal hinges open from the front. Luca gasped at the silver and sparkle that glittered in his hands, but Ryan couldn’t look at him too long. He was borderline irrationally emotional.

“It’s called a Luckenbooth. My people believe it’s a protection charm… mostly because it’s given as a- well. Traditionally, it’s given as a proposal. The acceptance is sort of a betrothal. It’s been in my family for hundreds of years.”

“Blake. I- I couldn’t-”

“You have to.” He nudged the boy carefully but seriously. “I’m in love with you, Luca Cerrillo. And I want you to wear a piece of me the way I wear a piece of you.” 

They both smiled as Luca’s soft fingertips grazed a bright yellow sun on his chest.

“Of course I will.”

[ranmanjuu]

—gen z mc with uesugi-takeda + misc. forces

ahh, i’m so glad people liked my gen z oda hcs! lol it’s usually pretty slow from my writing blog experiences until now, but i’m rlly happy! i was planning to do u-t and the others but then i decided to stop at oda and continue another day. thx for the asks tho! and yeah, i do take requests but it’s more of a pasttime, since this whole blog is just my stupid ideas written out and shared out there.

also someone said that a gen z mc could be old enough to romance the warlords, like, early twenties. and yes, very fair if u wanna romance ur mans with memes and existentialism go for it!! i just think it adds more to the comedy side of this child they have to babysit, while not fearing death or any consequences from their dumb of Ass decisions. someone who fears no death and armed with no braincells is a fool, but a Child who fears no death and armed with no braincells is also a fool, but more bizzare and has That Vibe y’know

@niphredil-14​ and @arthotsglasses​

tw: s*icidal, violent jokes treated in a light manner

also spoilers to some things of their characters

—kenshin:

who is this,, , sassy lost child??

he first saw you prepared to throw hands with ronins who were being Elite Dickheads. ofc, armed with nothing compared to the sworded-adults, he had to interfere.

no matter how cold he treated you, masking his secret !!!-like concern, you seemed so unfazed through it. you still interacted with him like normal,,,,, why?? do you want a death wish?

and each time he threatened you with,, anything, you responded with, “the only one who gets to hurt & kill me, is ME”

...... what?

he’s convinced you’re the biggest fool of a person. and he’d be right but even so, he has a weirdly strong need to protect you as you two got closer. you’re often with sasuke, so it’s harder to avoid you.

even with all the Horrible jokes you make on a daily basis, if your passionate side with everyone having equal rights of being treated as human, for him it shows a side of you that makes you seem precious and pure and kind hearted.

and the overprotective side increases.

which is, ,, a bit problematic sometimes cause you have the tendency to target and piss off anyone in a 10 meter range by just one (1) sassy comment, along with your lack of impulse control and blurting out everything in your mind. it’s made you a lot of short enemies in the sengoku period, and kenshin would always be ready to slice them down behind you.

sasuke has to tame him down with his Masters degree in kenshin-wrangling.

at banquets, kenshin would often have you beside him. if you’re too young for sake do age for drinking exist in sengoku? probably not. it’s more of sasuke advising for him to not give you alcoholic drinks he’ll have you pouring for him or just munching away at pickled plums or food.

—shingen:

(ngl i kinda had a hard time with this since it’s erasing a big part of his overall character,,, flirting)

once he heard the news that oda had taken in somone as young as you during honno-ji,, ,,,he’s in a very “how dare that demon >>:( taking such a pure soul,....”

and when you’re taken to kasugayama as a captive, you’re,,, surprisingly very calm and whelmed. you don’t have much sign of fear or anxiety in your overall demeanor meanwhile you’re busy dissociating and spacing out to feel those

you actually don’t seem to hate your captor. but shingen isn’t sure if your ‘fingerguns’ is a good thing or not cause it depicts you pointing guns @ him,, (dw is good shingen)

while yes being held hostage—no matter how good you’re being treated—isn’t ideal and kinda not very cash money, you consider shingen v chill. man has a kindheart!! “i diagnose you with good vibes.”

if he ever sees your righteous side, as everyone else, he’ll deeply admire you. he himself is someone who believes in such as well. and hearing the circumstances in the modern world regarding those things (blm, etc.) his heart truly does go out for you. he feels sympathy for such a young person like you having to take action

also your dirty humor around him, echigo’s player, kind of makes him question where and how you learnt it

and,, his illness.

through getting straight to the point and not falling for it each time he changes subject/dodges the question, you managed to get to the bottom of his illness. shingen himself thinks it’s not something you have to burden with knowing—you’re so, so young.

but that doesn’t matter to you. the world’s given you such a shit time, you’re mature enough to understand the situation at least.

and as he finishes his explanation, all there was is silence. it felt wrong to say any of your usual quips,, so all you did was slowly came there and hugged him.

that was more than what he’d ask for.

—sasuke:

oh hell yeah

you are in your element with him. the chillest guy to talk to, and probably the first one you’re the closest to

your phone was dead after like 2 days of use, and you were miserable while hideyoshi, like a typical parent, told you to go outside and into town. sensing your bad mood, sasuke asked what’s up. you deadpanned, “my phone game ended and now i’m ready to commit not breath.” you oslemnly look out in the bustling streets and clutched your fist like an Anime Protagonist, “those boomer memes were right all along... i am absolutely Miserable and Useless(^TM) without it.”

in response, you could’ve sworn he did the Anime Glasses thing as well, “then we at team Moderately Awesome Sengoku Ninja are happy to announce the launch of a DIY phone charger, made with the electricity from a fruit and the main functionality of a solar panel. and has more durability than samsung’s.”

there were Stars in your eyes now. with a big grin, you thank him, “i’d die for you, sasuke.”

“then perish.” he said with a blank look. (yukimura, in the bg: ???!!!??!??!?)

the next day he consentually breaks in through the ceiling and gives you the weird contraption. you’re now saved, soul-wise.

the memes start coming and they don’t stop coming from the two of you. in any situation. whether it’d be at a teahouse, or at a battlefield that can determine your life and death.

and you can have discussions about current world events, or the past ones, with him and he’d understand completely what you’re talking about. it’s those rare nights when you’ve been thinking and have a deep conversation with him in his room, and as an adult, it makes for interesting results as well.

the others are endlessly confused, but you’re both so unapologetically yourselves.

and he’s super protective if the circumstances are tough. he feels bad for dragging another person in the sengoku with him—much less when they’re so young like you.

if you’re enough of a lil shit, once you’re taken into kasugayama, in the nights where you can’t sleep because brain at what would be 3 am, you’d probably trudge over to his room and wake him up to tell him what kind of mind-blowing shit you realized.

—yukimura:

when he saved you from falling to your death, your reaction already set off weird Vibes inside him. what do you mean, “you stopped me from fleeing this fleeting world by the sweet embrace of death” ?!?!?! are you crazy?? yes

he doesn’t waste time getting blunt with you at all either.

once he goes into azuchi as a merchant, he silently observes you talking to sasuke for a bit. what’s with your weird language?? and crude humor???? never in his life has he met someone in your age act like that wtf

even so, he still operates on the basis of ‘‘if sasuke trusts you, i trust you’’, no matter how utterly concerned you make him feel

you have a dirtier mind than him! unsurprisingly. along with everyone else, you often tease the poor soul, a nd you’d gladly tell him what the innuendoes mean ( 69, etc.) and maybe sprinkle in some gay jokes in there

and why do you keep mentioning this “bromance between him and sasuke” ?? what us,,, a bromance????? and why is sasuke in it??

he takes you out to teahouses to eat chestnut dumplings and other desserts with you. you always seem to target the one he doesn’t like the most and have a bit of banter

your relationship is built on banter but what’s different rlly

he treats you much more maturely than other people your age. as in, he doesn’t pull back his punches in words most of the time. you don’t seem to around him also, it looks like.

and, he’s also very protective of you. he regards you as his little sibling, as rat as you may be. and he does care about you—he might just be a bit unwilling to say it

—yoshimoto:

you think he’s very chill, if a bit unique but who were you to judge. and he is, if you ever meet him in echigo or even azuchi

his big liking to art and something of apathy to people is osmething you can respect. there’s something about that kind of Vibe that you find oddly a mood.

and oh boy oh boy you wasted no time pulling up your phone and showing images of what art is in the future. whether it’d be a screenshot of anime, fanart, aesthetic-like ones, palette-themed—the whole shabang. 

and, somehow, you were left ranting to him  about how some artists in the future get it so shitty for theft, reposting, not crediting, the list goes on (please be a decent human being to artist, sincerely the author) and he can’t help but just listen in silence and kind of thinking about how you’re so passionate about the Struggles of artists. and it isn’t something he sees often in the sengoku era—where war rules most things.

and he does find art from the modern times interesting, how they’re so different and vast in styles. and not only that, it’s not like the future only has one major style like then, each hand can draw such different pictures and still have beauty in each. he appreciates and admires that.

and he does tell you his thoughts ^ while you give your own insight. it’s so fascinating to see someone like you having strong opinions on this.

because, well, rn art is a big thing in our lives as we’re stuck inside. a part of entertainment is looking at any media of art—and he finds his view of art and yours quite the same. you two came from a time of turmoil (one moreso than the other) but still think art isn’t exactly irrelevant just because it isn’t a cure to diseases or the Ultimate Weapon.

you had to Surgically Remove him from your phone so you can use it and to stop him from draining your battery looking at the art

and he often drags you out to town and admire pieces when you’re holing yourself in too much. your comments are always unknown to him, “radical”, “that’s one i can vibe with ngl”, and the list goes on.

and you occasionally call him pretty boy as a compliment rlly

—kennyo:

when you first saw him at honno-ji, and he won’t forget the one (1) line you gave him, all you said to his warning of ooo spooky demons was, “that’s lit fam gtg tho”

and that alone was enough to stun him for a few seconds

honestly you told the others of your meeting with kennyo before they told you it could be kennyo. just a throaway line of “oh yeah there was this dude with a scar across his face.” / “,,, ,....that’s kennyo. he’s really dangerous actually—” / “oh, poggers”

you’re probably kind of half the reason the oda forces found who dun it.

and it was an eye for an eye, kennyo himself found out that you were their child chatelaine, and very close to the others. as per his villain-schedule, he kidnaps you .

he laments about how “such a pure soul such as yours is not to be stained by the demon’s hands”

oh how Wrong he was.

you were the definition of the opposite of pure. and you seemed unfazed, which surprised kennyo but shrugged it off. he was willing to face you screaming and panicking, along with shouldering the sin of doing the deed. but instead, he was met with a raised eyebrow and, “this is unexpected and probably not welcomed but what am i doing here.”

he was stunned for a moment before explaining what he can. 

“......... fuck.”

he cringed ever so slightly at your curse. but your attention seems to stray so quickly off of the fact that you were bounded and helpless, to the fact that you have the man doing unspeakable things to civilians and you absolutely don’t approve.

throwing your common sense to maybe be civilized, you went off on a rant of how human rights and how to not be an ass to him. all he could do was just listened, shocked to even cut you off.

when he did, he gave the whole ‘unsaved demon’ shtick, and you weren’t taking that kinda shit. he believed he was truly unsaved—you knew that. but that doesn’t make it okay.

eventually, he left you with a cold end of the conversation.

he admires your spirit in a way—but with what he’s experienced,,, it’s a bit of unreachable for him.

if at any point you saw the soft side of his with animals, you just gaped at him for a split second and whispered, “the gap moe is strong with this one.”

also old man died inside when you said that you’d fight god, along with many things.

all in all, to him, you’re insufferable. but weirdly,, fascinating.

you’ve totally ok boomer’d him once cause he rlly looks old

—motonari:

,,. if your speech to kennyo was bad, he’s going to rant hell.

motonari already knew you were interesting even when his men just spied on you. your behavior, so brash and impulsive, is going to be so fun to have, he thinks.

through some planning to stir up more chaos, he kidnaps you and brings you unto his ship. same as kennyo, you showed no clear sign of surprise, and that’s when he decided you were either used to this in any way, or a fool. both answers, he liked.

you’re kind of really confused on why he’s doing what he’d doing. “i get it, i like to stir up chaos myself but it’s harmless,, most of it—but not until the people are in danger, bitch.”

and by that line, motonari leans towards you with a deadly smirk, “now, i can bite, ‘kay kid? you don’t wanna be in the receiving end... do you?”

“do it, coward.”

and before he could let out even a wheeze of laughter, you continued on on a lecture of, again, not being a dick and letting people live their life in peace. and much less all of this damage, for what? chaos?? yeah you wanted to see the world burn but it wasn’t literally.

however, his patience was running thin. he shuts you up forcefully, and leaves.

even so, after a cooldown period, he still talks to you (,,,, well, that’s kind of a generous term) because, right he was, you were so fun in his eyes.

an interesting observation he made,,, was that you picked up on his big dislike of physical contact. and he’d think with how annoying you were at times, that you’d weaponize it. but you didn’t—in fact, you kept your space (not that you were planning to get close) and respected his boundaries.

he thinks you a bit of peculiar for that decision, some wary, and perhaps naive.

one of the days—the more dangerous ones—he was planning to take you to the oda as bait or something. and you weren’t taking it like that. two days before arrival, a storm racked up. you stood upon the edge of the ship with the rest of the crew watching you like you were a madman.

“the oda won’t want me if i’m dead, would they now?”

motonari stands in his composure, guffawing, “all i need is to make sure they believe you’re alive, kid.”

a smile that showed absolutely no fear and 1000 percent spite spread in your face, “not unless i decimate my own body until all the trail left is my blood. the only one who gets to do that shit to me, is me.”

finally, a look of wavering shows in his face.

you were saved last minute,, and the rest is history.

#ikemen sengoku #cybird ikemen #ikesen #ikesen kenshin #ikesen shingen #ikesen sasuke #ikesen yukimura #ikesen yoshimoto #ikesen kennyo #ikesen motonari #ikesen uesugi takeda #*writing #gen z mc #god i hope my Lack of Ability isn't shown in how other characters are written longer than others #and how i might've badly Fucked up their characters #i've done like.. 3 routes and that knowledge is all i have #stans pls don't @ me #pretty sure i had more i wanted to add here but #aha brain's memory go brrrrrrrr

[les-fleurs-du-persephone]

a quick update: almost two months ago, i went to talk with R in person. He told me things like "that was just a rethorical philosophical subject of conversation, it was all a joke" and shit like that, when it obviously wasn't. So, i told him that that's it and i left him. Since then, he doesn't even respond when i say "good morning" to him when we pass each other in the hallways. That was kind of funny, to think that he's so upset that he cannot even talk to me, but then it got even funnier - since few weeks ago he doesn't even look at me. I'm a vice-president of the student council in my school, so sometimes I have to visit all the classes and announce some things. So, when me nd my friend walked into his classroom during his lesson, he ignored me completely. For i think five minutes, when i was standing there and talking, he was staring at his notebook and pretending to write something. Literally, me and my bestie were standing really close to him, so we both saw as he was just drawing random circles, just to look like he's writing something.

So, i think i moved on. Maybe not completely, i still sometimes look at him in the hallways, but i think i don't feel anything more, than pity for him. I'm kind of sad that it ended that way, but i know it's for the best, because as i look back at our relationship it was really sketchy. I was convinced that i was mature enough that i could pull this off, but it turns out that the immature one is R.

So, i feel much better now. Since I ended things with him i kissed a girl (twice!!) and went on a date with another guy. I can finally focuse on my life, instead of putting my energy in "fixing him"

For the first time in a looong, long time i feel like i would like to have a boyfriend that's my age.

Be safe out there y'all, if you'd ever wantto talk just dm me <3

#teacher crush #teacher crush community #tcc love #love #high school #breakup #healing #tcc feelings #tcc thoughts #tcc blog #tcc

[m0onbean]

tutoring & loving

genre: enemies to lovers!AU, tutor!reader, popular boy!eunwoo, high school!AU, JEALOUSYYYYYYYY, flooooooof!!! angst but it’s okay because angst is wonderful, basically most of my favorite AU’s combined in one

warnings: jealous eunwoo and this AU is much more in depth than the others ones

words: 2.8k 

note: this is an old draft that has been sitting in my notes so i thought i would post!! enjoy and I HOPE  EUNWOO IS CASTED FOR TRUE BEAUTY!!!

as one of the top students in class, all of your teachers absolutely ADORE YOU

school is pretty smooth for you: you study well, pass tests, socialize with friends....... except for one little threat that makes your life so much more difficult... 

Cha Eunwoo.

not only is he one of the most popular boys in your grade, but unfortunately he’s also your seat partner for English and he’s the most annoying person you have ever met

you haven’t given him a reason to disrespect you!! ... okay maybe sometimes when you see him and his group of friends being loud in the hallways you shoot an icy glare....... ok and MAYBE you roll your eyes everytime he says smth dumb in the middle of class

but other than that??? completely innocent you are. but this man doesn’t seem to agree, as he seems to have made his life goal to ANNOY THE SHIT OUT OF YOU. 

foe ex. you would be peacefully paying attention in class when suddenly you feel something kick your foot 

and when you look up, you see eunwoo “paying attention” to the board and feigning innocence

but you immediately know that he’s just trying to aggravate you because when has this man ever actually paid attention in class??

so you go back to listening when you feel ANOTHER kick and you’re like BITCHoh hell no so you kick him back bc we’re not all perfect human beings let’s be honest

and now y’all are kicking each other back and forth, and everyone can hear the desks shuffling underneath them

he also makes snarky marks constantly when you literally just breathed???

like you would sit down at your seat and he’d be like “Congrats, you’ve somehow managed to choose the ugliest outfit in the world to wear today”

and you respond, “It’s about time i have a turn, you’re wearing the ugliest outfit everyday” and then you just glare at each other until the teacher tells you two to snap out of it

on some days eunwoo will just flat out point out one of your flaws like if your hair is messy or if there’s a stain on your shirt

so one day your English teacher asks to see you after class and you’re like Oh he’s just gonna offer me extra credit ... but instead of doing that he asks right off the bat, “i have another student that needs tutoring, are you willing to take one more?”

for the past month, you’ve already been tutoring a few students your teacher recommends to you. it’s easy money, especially since you’re saving up for college 

only this time, you can tell he’s desperate because he’s like “Please (y/n) he’s failing in English and misbehaving in class you’re my only hope!!”

and now you’re like Hawld on..... Why Is He Being So Desperate About This.... like you’re cool with tutoring..... what makes this-

the realization strikes across your face. 

who in this school would you would hate teaching??? who is failing in English??? WHO IS THE BANE OF YOUR EXISTENCE. look to: c. e. w.

 “ofdjoaaja i’ll give you gummy bears or something” he pleads. and honestly, if you were not so broke, you would’ve spat on his feet and walked out the door. but you need the cash, and you sure do like gummy bears.......

you gracefully relinquish, and your teacher gives you a proud smile. he then goes on to tell you that his mom requested extra help smh why couldn’t she have just hired a tutor i hate rich people.. anyways so yeah pls Help me

so the next day @ school you approach your seat and you see eunwoo sitting on his desk, talking to his friends until he notices you.. and he’s about to open his mouth to probs criticize your untied shoelaces but you interrupt him and are like:

“eunwoo i’m privately tutoring you starting today. Meet at the library after school.”

and he’s just sitting there, jaw dropping to the floor and you’re like :) He’s finally quiet for once... 

but little did you know that during class he’d be pestering you with complaints like:“why you??? is there anyone else that can do it???” “i don’t need tutoring.. i’m getting consistent D’s... not a singular F and it ain’t much but it’s honest work” 

at a certain point, you get so sick of his complaints and go like “your mom asked for you to be tutored!!! OK i didn’t just ask to tutor you, you dumbfuck.”

and once you mention his mom he just kinda shuts up... and stares at his desk for the rest of the period

ou notice this and recall the teacher telling you that eunwoo’s mom is a tiger mom... you keep this in mind because now you know that making his mom proud might be his motivation

after school, you wait at the library for him inside.. but a couple minutes pass and you’re like ? did he forget ? .  

and eventually an hour passes and you’re like nope he’s definitely ditching

and honestly,,, you feel a little betrayed and a little hurt ... but just when you’re about to leave you see him panting and making his way to your table nd you’re like ???????and eunwoo’s like “im so sorry i forgot...”

and you’re like oh? so you didn’t ditch? 

and he’s like No!! i just ... forgot. 

and you’re like well you little shit don’t forget next time i’ve been sitting here for an hour..but then he reaches something from his pocket and hands it to you and it’s a triangle sushi (it’s super crumbled too...) 

and he’s like “i got this to make it up” and you’re like flustered and just weirdly but pleasantly surprised he feels this bad about almost flaking

but you catch yourself slipping and go back to your annoyed tone: “uh-What the fuck are you on?? I-Wh-I’m not hungry. T-thanks tho.”

the first tutoring session is... awful to say the least. 

he couldn’t pay attention well and continuously complained and even tried to go off topic

like you’d be asking him what foreshadowing meant and then he’d be like “so.. where’s your family from (y/n)?” 33r*#$&(@$

after an hour of no progress you get frustrated and shut the textbook, about to call it a day

but just when you stand up eunwoo grabs your wrist 

and he’s like “where do you think you’re going?” you scoff and reply with “why do you care? it’s not like you want to be tutored right? well i don’t want to tutor anymore”

when you try to budge, you feel his hand still firmly gripping onto your wrist and you’re like “let go of me” until you realize he’s staring at you dead in the eyes

and in a quiet voice he sadly says “please don’t give up on me... i’m trying my best.” 

it looks like he’s about to tear up and that’s when you realize that you need to be patient for him... and need to help him because he’s trying to make his mom proud. 

when you sit down again, he gets a bit startled that you gave in so easily but regardless, a relieved smile spreads across his face. 

instead of going back to teaching, you conclude that you two should “break the ice” first so tutoring wouldn’t be you two just glaring at eachother

“breaking the ice” turns into a two hour conversation about random things or anything that comes into mind. 

eunwoo is really good at conversing and he’s good at filling in the awkward pauses and bringing up new topics!!

next thing you know the librarian is trying to shoo you guys outside since the library already closed fodjsoakal

when you get back home, there’s a stupid smile on your face and you’re like SHIT why am i smiling? why can’t i stop smiling???? get yourself together youRe just helping him you still think he’s annoying!!! ..but he has a breathtaking laugh... NO he’s still that annoying guy i hate

the rest of the tutoring sessions aren’t as bad at you thought.. eunwoo is actually pretty smart he just has the attention span of a toddler honestly.

you could be trying to read him an excerpt from The Great Gatsby and when it’s his turn to read.. it’s absolutely silent and when you look up like ??? 

you see him staring at you and you’re like “eunwoo.. it’s ur turn” and he’d be snapped out of his trance and be like OH! and ask you where you left off

and inside you’d be like.. was he.. staring at me?? (he actually was. you just looked so pretty reading out loud with such emotion)

after a couple of more classes with him, he starts immensely improving in class. he doesn’t really bother you anymore, but he stills throws some playful remarks at times. 

tutoring sessions seem to be effective, and you learn that he actually has a really.. really great personality

one day, you’re approaching your seat in English and are about to roast eunwoo as your daily routine when you almost bump into somebody

but thank god you have great reflexes so you managed to stop yourself... and when you look up you see a handsome face and you’re like. Oh.and he’s like smiling sheepishly and is like “sorry! i’m clumsy hehe” and you’re like Oh.. he’s cute

you smile back and insist it’s fine.. and now you’re both still standing there smiling at eachother because he’s like eye candy

he manages to introduce himself as Moonbin and you’re like I’m (y/n)!! and then his face transforms into recognition and he’s like “oh! you’re eunwoo’s tutor aren’t you?” 

and you’re like “Oh?? yeah how’d you know?”and he’s like “Ah.. i’m good friends with him. i heard your tutoring sessions are really helpful though. you’re super smart”

and on the outside you’re like :3 m-Me????!??! <3

what you actually say: ah, thank you. 

then he’s like “do you mind if you tutor me too?? i’m kind of struggling in English as well” and you’re like “oh sure!” it’s raining money girl

the bell starts ringing and he waves goodbye 

 you go to your seat with a wide smile, and when you sit down, you don’t notice that eunwoo is glaring at you 

so when you look at him with a smile on your face, he gets even more glary. 

you quickly wipe the smile off and are like “oh it’s you.”

but instead of insulting you back he’s like “why were you talking to Moobin?” and youre ???? “why CAN’T i talk to Moonbin? he was asking me to tutor him.”

when he hears that, he clenches his fists under the desk and is like.. “did you accept his offer?”

and you’re confusedly like “yes.. why would i reject him?”

not one to handle complicated feelings well, eunwoo just stands up, his chair loudly screeching against the floor. 

he wants to tell you that he doesn’t want Moonbin to watch you read lines from poetry so dramatically, smile whenever he makes a joke, text him reminders to study before he goes to sleep. 

but when you’re looking at him with such bewilderment in your beautiful eyes, your facial features frozen as you wait for his next move, he feels disgusting for having these feelings towards you. you’d probably be happier with Moonbin, who doesn’t have these nasty problems you’d be burdened with.

but before you can even properly react, he’s leaving the classroom and you look around, grateful that nobody was watching. 

and you don’t know how it happens.. but your feet control themselves and now you’re running after him, not caring about class starting already

and as you’re sprinting, so many scattered thoughts run through your mind. eunwoo.. jealous? does he like you? and even though you thought you were interested in eunwoo... there’s something about eunwoo you can’t let go about.and there’s no way you’re going to lose him.

so when you finally catch up to him you grab him by the arm and turn him around so he’s facing you... you hug him tightly.

and the crawling feeling that’s been stirring in eunwoo’s stomach suddenly dissipates

and bc you know that nothing will be the same after this, why don’t you just end it off strong? so you confess

you quietly tell him that you’re new to this... relationships have always been a new territory for you. liking somebody is new for you. “please don’t run off and let go of me either... i’m trying my best, too”

and he wants to push you off of him, tell you what’s best for you, and go back to being the annoying shit he once was. but your hug feels so nice and.. well.. maybe eunwoo can be selfish once in a while.  

falling in love with eunwoo is a gradual but addictive progress. when people describe falling in love, they would describe it as fireworks... exciting but risky. you would pretty much say the same but.. it’s so much more than just that.

it’s feeling tingly and funny when he randomly holds your hand or shows affection. it’s feeling enormously upset when you’re not around him or when you see him talking to somebody attractive. it’s feeling empty when he cuddles you because you want this to last forever, but you’re scared because you know it won’t.

you tell him this as you two are nestled on his couch, blankets jumbled across and TV playing some cooking show neither of you care about

he laughs and kisses your forehead which makes you feel that stupid tingly feeling again. 

“are you confessing that you’re in love with me (y/n)?” before you can try to smack him, he says “i love you too.”and with that.. you quietly respond “i love you...” 

and it feels so refreshing voicing that out loud.

eunwoo as a boyfriend would be the most blood rushing and adrenaline pumping feeling there is. he’s filled with so much energy that it’s never not fun around him

he would sneak you into carnivals, and take you on the ferris wheel where you two would probably makeout in the passenger car scksksoao

he’d also try to win you prizes at the arcade but.. he’s just so bad at playing it and either A) you end up playing and winning him a prize or B) he bribes the arcade owner to give him the prize

lots of PDA. lotssss of them. 

sitting next to eunwoo in English is a struggle now.. he’s always distracting you from the teacher. 

like you’d be taking notes but then you’d feel his head on your shoulder and now he’s straight up cuddling you in class

eunwoo always encourages you to have more fun 

“you’re always locked up in your room, studying.”

thus, he likes to knock on your door and enter the house with your parents’ delightful approval (because your parents love him. so much.) and go in your room and shower you with kisses while telling you that it’s time to stop studying because you’ve been reading the same chapter over and over again

your texts to each other would be littered with emojis that don’t even relate to the message. like you’d text “i stopped studying. are you proud of me 💃👒🐟🥐”and he’d reply with “of course my sunshine 🍣🎧🔑”

you still tutor him but your tutor sessions are a lot more longer now since they take place at either of your houses instead of the library LMAO. 

+ after tutoring him, you two would just cuddle and raid your fridges

when you meet moonbin again, eunwoo gets a little jealous again since he thinks that moonbin has a chance of snatching you 

but after kissing him and assuring him that you’ll never be “snatched”, he feels so relieved

eunwoo relishes all of the affection you give him. and he always gives you twice as much :’)

one day the same English teacher asks to see you after class and you’re like “is there something you need?”and he’s like “.... ok so tell me how y’all went from kicking eachother to cuddling together in class 🤔🤔”

and you’re like “.. BYE I THINK I HEARD SOMEBODY CALLING ME”

the doors were closed... nobody heard anything... 

when you ask eunwoo why he hated you so much in the beginning, he tells you that he was just jealous of you. jealous of how flawless you did in academics and how you’re such a bright student + your glares were “extremely unnecessary” 

he also tells you that his older brother is already a doctor and has been so successful in everything so his mom always pressures him and compares them

and you’re like weaving your fingers together while telling him “don’t compare yourself. he is him and you are you.” 

and you pause.. and say “and i love you this way. i’m proud of you”

and eunwoo just immediately breaks down right there because nobody ever tells him that.. nobody is ever proud of him

falling in love with one of your enemies was definitely one of the best things that’s ever happened to you :)

#astro #cha eunwoo #eunwoo scenarios #eunwoo fluff #eunwoo angst #eunwoo fanfiction #eunwoo fanfics #eunwoo aus #eunwoo au #kpop #lee dongmin #tutor!au #enemies to lovers!au #bulleted #bullet

[thembo-for-anime]

hello!! can i request some hq ppl (preferably iwa nd yamaguchi but you can pick some others too!!) with a gender fluid friend? it can be platonic or romantic, i don’t mind :). their friend typically presents as masculine or androgynous but occasionally works ul the confidence to dress really feminine nd cute 🥺?

Genderfluid S/O with Iwaizumi and Yamaguchi

A/N: I wasn’t really sure how to go about this but I tried my best! I hope it’s what you wanted anon!!

Pairings: Iwaizumi x Reader and Yamaguchi x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Iwaizumi

You can feel Iwaizumi’s arm wrapped securely around your waist as you open your eyes, squinting them slightly from the bright tv screen. The two of you decided it would be a good idea to watch a movie while you waited to go on your date. What neither of you accounted for was how warm cuddling was going to be and how inviting a nap sounded. 

With your back pressed against his chest you strain to reach your phone, his hold not loosening in the slightest. Once you finally catch a corner to pull it back to you, Iwaizumi takes this opportunity to throw a leg over your form, further entrapping you in his embrace.

“Iwa we have a date today,” you say with a light laugh as you wiggle a bit in a faux escape.

“Mmm can’t we just stay here like this?” he asks as you continue your wiggling to face him. His eyes are droopy but intent on looking at you. The corners of his mouth twitch into a smile before he leans in and gives you a lazy kiss. You return it happily as one of your hands snake into his hair. He hums into the kiss as you rake his scalp with your fingernails.

Breaking away from him, he pouts causing you to kiss his nose. “As enticing as your offer sounds we already made reservations and I’d rather not pay the cancellation fee-”

“Yeah, yeah okay you win,” he concedes with a playful rolling of his eyes. “What time is it anyway?” he asks as you finally check your phone.

“Fuck!” you yell abruptly pushing yourself up at such a speed that it causes you to lose your balance and fall off the couch. You let out a small ow as Iwaizumi looks in confusion and shock. “Our reservations in forty minutes and it takes twenty minutes to get there,” you explain quickly as you scramble to get up from the floor.

His eyes widen as he realizes your time constraints. “Fuck.”

˜”*°•.˜”*°• . •°*”˜.•°*”˜ ˜”*°•.˜”*°• . •°*”˜.•°*”˜ ˜”*°•.˜”*°• . •°*”˜.•°*”˜ ˜”*°•.˜”*°• . •°*”˜.•°*”˜

The next twenty or so minutes consists of making the two of you look as presentable as possible. Iwa took a quick shower while you put on deodorant and sorted through your clothes. You decided on some well-fitting pants, a button up, and a light formal jacket. Leaving as many buttons undone as you could but somehow still managing to hold a “respectable” air about yourself. 

Two gold necklaces peaked through the unbuttoned shirt and a sturdy belt pulled the rest of the look together. Looking in the mirror you had to admit you looked good. Sure you also would’ve looked hot in the second option you had in mind, which was a gorgeous dress, but hey you’ll have plenty more dates to bust out that bad boy.

“Do you still have some of my stuff here from our-” Iwaizumi stops abruptly as he looks you up and down. “Shit, you look...babe you look really fuckin’ attractive.”

Heat settles on your cheeks as you smile at him. “Thank you bubs,” you say as he walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist. He smiles at you mischievously as he leans in for a kiss. “Ah ah ah, no funny business mister, we’ve got to leave in about eight minutes,” you remind him, playfully putting your finger to his lips.

“Then I guess I have about eight minutes to do this,” he says before gently pulling your hand away and bringing you in for a heated kiss.

Yamaguchi

Knocking on the front door Yamaguchi waits until he hears your voice call out from inside. “Come on in, it’s unlocked!” You sounded a bit frazzled, he noticed as he opened the door to see you peeking your head out from your room. “Sorry! I’m running a bit late but you can come in if you want?” you ask as he follows to where your head disappeared behind.

“Okay,” he responds, “But you don’t have to worry about being late, it’s just the park.” He comes into your room to see you dressed in a long sleeve off-white shirt covered slighting by cute denim overalls decorated with strawberries and strawberry plants, painted on by your friend Bug for your birthday. (Yes it’s an author insert moment akdalf).

“I know but I still feel bad,” you respond as you plant yourself in front of your mirror, your focus directed back to your unfinished eyeliner. He looks to your bed wondering if it would be okay for him to sit but you seem to read his mind as you offer it up to him.

“I don’t know how you do that, I didn’t even say anything,” he says as he lays back on your bed.

“Yams, we’re both a bit socially anxious, I know you’d wonder that because I’d wonder that,” you say with a sweet smile. The same smile that made his heart melt at the sight of it, every time without fail. One that always made him feel okay no matter where he was or what he was doing. Whenever you smiled at him like that it felt like all of his anxieties just fall away. 

He rolls onto his side and uses his hand to prop up his face so that he could gaze lovingly at you. He watched your precise movements as you applied your eyeliner. 

You messed up a couple of times but were able to get both wings fairly even. Looking up you were about to ask Yamaguchi what he thought but he was already gazing at you. 

A nervous smile starts to pull at your lips, “Why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask, already feeling the burning of your ears in embarrassment.

“You’re so stunning,” he says unabashedly, causing your smile to widen even more.

“When did you become so smooth?” you ask as you shuffle to the edge of your bed, resting your arms on it and your head on your arms. Up close you could see his little blush that revealed his normal sheepish nature.

“Ha! Never,” he says genuinely surprised by your remark, “It’s just...everything is so much easier with you.” His red cheeks are now increasingly obvious as he fidgets with his hands.

“Tadashi, I- god I love you so much,” you whisper while looking up at him with the biggest heart eyes the boy has ever seen. Reaching a hand up, you pull him into a kiss catching him by surprise. It takes only a second for the shock to wear off before he’s kissing you back.

Breaking apart the two of you can’t help but smile. “We can… I mean if it’s any different to you, we can be a little late to our date can’t we?” Yamaguchi asks with a blushy smile.

You laugh a little before responding, “We can.”

“Thank god,” he says, pulling you in for another kiss.

#tadashi yamaguchi #yamaguchi imagine #yamaguchi x y/n #yamaguchi x reader #hq yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi #hq iwaizumi #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi headcanons #haikyū!! #haikyuu!! #bug's asks #gn!reader #haikyuu gender neutral reader

[love4shinsou]

GASP! THREE ASKS IN ONE DAY! WHADDYA KNOW XD I'm just riled up for more headcannons of yours :D they're wonderful. But for now is fluff— How do the BNHA boys (Shoto, Bakugo, Izuku, Amajiki, Kirishima, and Dabi) handle an S/O that when jealous, gives them more attention and love than usual. Like a girl interacting with them and when they're gone they're all over them XD (You're choice if you want them to sneer, I prefer not to ^^')

Shoto

You two were just having a nice walk on a warm Saturday evening when this random girl came up to Shoto. She was quite racket too. .she was wearing crop top that was more like a bra and short shorts that could easily be mistaken for underwear. Shoto liked girls that knew how far to go with these things, and knew how much to cover up, but still flaunted what they had. This was definitely not a girl he would take the slightest interest in, but you though otherwise.

"Hey, Todoroki. I saw you in the sports festival and on T.V lately and I'm a fan~ Could you sign my chest??" She asked in a fliety tone while posting to her barely covered chest. Shoto was trying hard not to cringe. You grabbed his arm and held it tight, and pulled him down a little to kiss him on the lips, and on his cheek. He smiled and kissed your forehead.

The girl seemed shocked and even a little mad. She huffed nd walked away, thankfully. "Well, she was an. .experience." Shoto said to you. "Yeah. .i hope an experience we don't have to deal with anymore." You sighed. He chucked a bit and grabbed your hand, kissing it and continuing the nice walk.

Bakugo

He finally took you on a nice date on a Friday night. It took a lot of encouraging from Kirishima, but he took you to a nice, fancy restaurant.

You guys were having a good time, eting fancy food and Bakugo even being a little soft. (We all know he's secretly a soft boi, i mean. .come on)

When he was paying the check to be a nice boyfriend this girl in a ling red dress came up to him with a seductive smile. "Hey, your pretty hot. I've seen you around fighting villans and you look really cool. We should get out of here and find something a little more fun, eh??" She asked in a confident tone, like she was all that and shit.

Your smile wuickly feel and you latched onto him and started kissing his cheek and his hands. He was completely puzzled. He even had his "wait, what-" look on his face. The girl definitely didn't like this, but took the hint that you weren't going to let go, so she walked away and back to her group of friends were she told them all about you being annoying and not letting Bakugo go with her. Like he was going to do that anyways. 🙄

He was actually blushing. Being able to feel your lips on his skin and get so much affection out of nowhere.

When you two were leaving you passed the group of friends that included the girl. He stopped and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and smirked, thinking that he was about to take her somewhere to get fucked, but it was the complete opposite. "Hey, if you call my baby annoying again I'll make sure you get put in your fucking place you bitch." He growled before pulling you away.

You laid your head on his shoulder the whole drive back to the dorms and you both cuddled till you feel asleep while watching Netflix because Bakugo was being hella soft. UwU

Izuku

Uraraka was already very persistent with trying to get with Izuku, but now that you two were dating she was even more persistent. You weren't going to be the only one jealous.

You and Izuku were just chilling in the common room when Uraraka came busting in and sat next to Izuku. Which was fine with you two because you both had friends and you two weren't in the middle of anything, so you both started to talk amongst one another.

It was all chill until Uraraka started flirting with Izuku. And I mean flirting. She was calling him cute, and telling him how great he is at everything. Since Izuku got flustered by almost anything he blushed and thanked Uraraka. Now you were kinda triggered. You got up, and just Izuku thought ou were going to leave you sat down right in his lap. You straddled him and put his face to your chest. He blushed and looked up at you with a red face, but he was totally loving this.

Uraraka was completely shocked by this. Her mouth was wide and she was blushing herself. You didn't tell her to leave because you didn't think that she needed to, but you just wanted her to kbow that Izuku was yours and wasn't on sale. 👏👏🍵

He just kind of stayed there and was actually falling asleep. "Your comfy. .c-can I do this more often. ." He stuttered, his cheek pressed against your chest. You smiled at rubbed his head. "Mhm!!" You looked over at Uraraka and smiled sweetly. Yup, she wouldn't be trying anything any time soon.

Amajiki

You two were put on a date for boba tea!! The best thing to even exist. You two sat outside on a rainy day, under an umbrella the restaurant provided for outdoor seat of course and watched the rain fall, vibing and feeling aesthetic as hell.

You leaned in for a kiss, which made Tamaki blush, but he leaned in as well cuz your his girlfriend and he loves you when you were so rudly interrupted by the waitress who took your orders. "Hey, so you're super cute, so I was thinking we could go out sometime." The waitress with brown hair said, putting her hand on Tamaki's. This made him squeek and start studdering out what a response he couldn't quite get out. You looked at him and put your cup down. You cupped his squishy face with your hands and kissed his nose. He blushed furiously. "Y-y/n, w-what was that f-for. .!!" He stuttered out.

You giggled and hugged him, resting your head on his chest. He couldn't help but practically melt and rub your head. He looked back up at the waitress with a 'what do you think the answer is??' Kind of look, which took a lot of confidence on his part to do.

The waitress scoffed and walked away.

When you two were leaving she walked up to you both with two extra freshly made boba teas. "Here, one of my coworkers snitched on me about before, so my boss made me make you more boba. Here." She said, shoving the bobas towards you and Tamaki. You both gladly took themand thanked her, more like thanked her coworker and boos than her.

You two held hands all the way back to U.A because Tamaku felt so bad about the whole ordeal. You two drank some more boba tea and were just being the cutest couple at U.A you guys were.

Kirishima

You and Kirishima were granted permission to go to a gym outside of campus since the one they had at U.A was completely full, and you needed to get training in. Well, it's wants that full, it was mostly taken up by Bakugo's entitlement-

You held hands and kissed eachothers cheeks and were all giggly on the walk to the gyn, which wasn't that far from U.A actually, even though the school was literally on a big ass hill.

You trained first, Kirishima spotting you and helping you out of course. After a while of you training, you helped Kiri out with his. He trained a bit with you, fighting a bit, but not too much since it wasn't the U.A gym and then he started lifting waits and such.

You were currently spotting him on a bench press when you noticed another girl eyeing him as he lifted the waits. You ignored it and made sure he was still going strong, which of course he was. Hey, he's the manliest of men.

After he was done and he was thanking you with a kiss for spotting him the girl came up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and being the nice guy he is he smiled and said hello. "Hello, can I help you with something, ma'am??" He asked sweetly, not expecting her to do what she was about to. "Sure can. I'm pretty hungry and you must be too, so I was thinking that you can take me out and let me have a bite of you. Seeing you work out over there has got me starving." The lady said, running her finger over Kirishima's bicep. He was totally shocked at this and had no idea how to respond. Nobody had said something like. .like that to him before.

At that moment you got in front of him and made grabby hands. He smiled and understood what you wanted, so he picked you up, resting your head on his shoulder. You gave him soft kisses on his shoulder and neck, making him sigh in content.

The girl grunted and walked back to whatever she was doing previously. You and Kirishima were quite done with this girls shit, you you just decided to leave, Kirishima holding you all the way back.

Dabi

The league of Villans were having a meeting with two other villans to see if they were 'good enough' to join the league.

You were sitting in Dabi's lap, not being you were jealous just because that's where he liked you. Shigaraki was currently trying to intimidate the villans, which he was actually doing pretty well.

At the end of the meeeting, the girl villan with long pink hair came up to Dabi with a blushy face. "Hello, you're scars are super cool, and you seem super cool as well. Maybe you would want to go out sometime??" She said in a soft tone, looking away from him.

He was about to say something when you got down on the floor and latched onto his leg, looking up at him and whining. He lost all interest in telling the girl of and squatting down, pulling you in his arms and holding you. He stode back up with you in his arms. "Yeah, so that's a no. And you also won't be going the league. You suck." He stated like it was nothing like he usually did.

Now, he would have gone to his room and fuck ya, but today he sat down on the couch and cuddle with you. Cone on, we all know that he's super clingy.

I think the Izuku one is my favorite- XD~Alex

#anime #my headcanons #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #my post #my writing #x reader #dabi headcanons #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #dabi is a todoroki #izuku headcanons #midoriya izuku #izuku midoria x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #bakusquad #bakugo katsuki #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n #kirishima eijirou #awkward amajiki #amajiki fluff #bnha tamaki

[rpbetter]

Hey there, check out this pinned post first!

Thanks for visiting Roleplay Better, where I believe that you can fucking do better! That kind of language, however, is why it is important for you to read this post before proceeding.

This blog and its posts are meant for an adult RPing audience; be over legal, adult age in the USA, 18+. Do not interact by submitting, asking, reblogging, commenting, or liking unless you are over eighteen years of age. By interacting with RPB or me, Vespertine, you are assumed to be following this rule. If you are breaking this rule, you will be blocked.

I have that rule because this blog can/will/does address topics inappropriate for a younger audience. Those can include, but are not limited to:

not safe for work - violence, injury, sexual language, smut, substance use

“dark topics” and themes like violence, unhealthy relationships, mental illness, trauma, graphic injury, dubious consent, substance use, and so forth addressed realistically

foul, sexual, and otherwise “Adult” language

 unpopular opinions and approaches about writing, RP, fandoms

“negativity” since literally anything can be, and my whole point here isn’t about holding back; it is likely that, at some point, in some post or another, a shoe will fit you-you need to be mature enough to handle that without taking it as a personal attack on you

images and links that may contain things inappropriate for a younger audience

this blog is founded upon the idea that fiction has reflections in reality, but that fiction does not utterly equate to reality. You should write with realism, your characters should be people in their own right, and you should absolutely be addressing many popular topics responsibly, which is to say realistically. I do not support or otherwise condone purity culture, so while realism is a big deal here, fiction = reality arguments are a no

seriously, you have no idea how fucking salty I am! I try to be fair, reasonable, and mellow with everyone, but it can and does come out.

This blog tags for common, major triggers, but it is not for those easily triggered or particularly sensitive. By proceeding, you take responsibility for yourself...like a mature adult. I expect you to utilize blacklist, unfollow, and block. Tag format is simple, it is literally just the word in most cases, with “cw” and “tw” added to particularly common things. Example, a post containing a breakdown of forms of dubcon will be tagged #dubcon #dubious consent. If that was specifically of a sexual nature, since tumblr is unfriendly to using Not Safe For Work now, I will be using #notsafe for sexual topics. In the event that this needs to change, it will be posted about, the previous tag left intact, so that you may update your blacklist.

You are always welcome to send me an ask or private message requesting a particular trigger be tagged for you. I try to check blogs I see following, especially if I follow back, so that I can tag what you require. However, I’m a person, I’m an ND, ill, busy person though, I do make mistakes!

If you find yourself desirous of telling me to tag in a hateful way, don’t. You will not be responded to with an apology and kindness. Do not be rude, it’s uncalled for when informing someone of a problem or making a request.

I will run the blog largely on a queue, and will not be following many people back. This is not personal! I just like to try to provide content at many different times, have a life elsewhere, and I am so happy that you love your fandom, but it might not be something I’ve enough interest in to have on my dash.

Don’t tumblr message me. Use the inbox or submit.

Due to recent events, I am changing this rule. It’s hard for me to receive messages unexpectedly, and I hate to imply that I’ll be able to get to these quicker because it isn’t the truth. Quicker, better responses come from the inbox. However, there have been too many incidents lately in which people needed to speak privately and had to make that a request. If you’re having a problem and need to vent, request sensitive advice, etc.? It’s alright, go ahead and drop me a PM, y’all. I’ll get back to you as soon as I am able. Please, do not be angry with me if I respond to inbox things or my queue is running! You’re important to me, I just might not have the requisite social cognition and energy you deserve at that time.

Aggressive inbox messages will be responded to in kind. I don’t care if you are on anon or not, if you haven’t an ounce of polite communication skills, I won’t have them either. This is not a “we don’t publish anon hate” blog.

I highly encourage asks and submissions on any and all RP topics, and it’s perfectly alright to be salty as fuck in them, you can totally vent here, but don’t take out your frustration on me or be demanding of me. I am always happy to help with information, advice, or just a response to your venting-it’s important to know someone is listening. However, it may take me a few days to a week to get to you, be patient. 

If you are going to vent, leave out usernames. This isn’t a callout or burnbook blog. It’s fine to state characters and fandoms, but if this becomes a problem, it’ll have to change. I don’t want this becoming a salt blog for one or two fandoms I very likely can’t even stand. Practice the fine art of alluding to things, its good experience for your writing! Besides, RPC problems are RPC problems, I promise. It might feel like it’s just your fandom, but there is something relatable in all corners.

I will not overly police comments. Keep the slurs and shit out of it, though. If there is an issue going on pertaining to a serious instance of hate speech, or behavior I, personally, deem as too inappropriate and/or immature to be taking place on my post, I will step in. Otherwise, I expect everyone to be adults in the comments and reblogs too. If you want to argue with each other, that’s your business. If you want to argue with me, I’m not sorry in advance.

Addition to the above: this is not a blog in which it will be tolerated that commentators or those submitting with the URLS are targeted for callouts, shaming, or other instances of bullying. No, I cannot make those people stop bothering you by blocking them, but the least I can do is address that by shutting down their access to this blog and it’s posts by blocking on the URLs I have for them. And I will. Fuck that “we can’t be responsible for” shit. It’s my blog, it’s my content I’m putting out there, I’m not going to just ignore shit like what went down over on COAR, thanks. Not. Cool.

This is definitely not a place for:

people who think giving muses labels, including top/bottom “dynamics,” is a good substitute for character traits, personality, and development

those with no reading comprehension skills

folks dependent upon aesthetics and aesthetics-based purple prose as filler for actual writing

anti-original character/just wants to fuck a FC or canon character club, get the fuck out immediately

y’all who see writing as an obstacle to getting down to action, be that smut, drama, or fight scenes...it’s literally a writing hobby

politics, any manner of phobe or ism, violent/non-inclusive feminists, purity/rpc/fandom/content police of any manner, and exactly any manner of racism, sexism, or religious intolerance - I give not a shit if it’s popular to hate the straights, for example, I neither believe in nor tolerate reactionary classifying of any group as blanket-statement evil

people who are going to tack onto my posts shit like, “it’s okay, OP, you can say x character.” Trust me, if I were talking about one character, I fucking would name drop them, don’t bring me into your fandom drama, I doubt I know or want to know who that anime guy is who looks like 12 other anime guys to me.

About Vespertine

You can call me that, Vespertine. I’d rather you didn’t go with Vesper, but as it is unfortunately so likely to happen, I won’t feed you to the dogs over it either. RPB Mun is also acceptable.

I’m alright with either she/her or he/him, they/them is also fine. Apparently, that was big enough clue-in for the poor reading comp crowd, so while I feel it is not of importance, I’m nonbinary, yes.

Late 30′s, chronically ill but still working adult with neurodivergence. I’m both busy and Busy, and always sick. This limits my brain power and ability to be here. I have an active RP blog that I won’t be sharing to keep responsible distance. That is always going to be my priority, it is my primary hobby.

Please, don’t tumblr message me totally random things if we don’t have that kind of relationship! I’m too ill and busy, and it really fucks my nerves to have a bunch of messages/have to suddenly interact socially with people. Don’t do it. Use my inbox, use the submit, comment on posts. I cannot do random messages of “hey” and so forth.

I only do written RP, don’t expect me to understand much of anything from tabletop. I’ve RPed for the last 23 years consistently, on every platform from AOL chats to forums to messengers and here. I also don’t do RP in discord, so I’m sorry, but I can’t advise you much on anything with a word count, except to stop it for serious RP. Other than that, I promise you that I’ve seen the trends, the drama, the fandoms. I can give a lot of advice and perspective on a wide range of topics, situations, and characters! When I don’t have a clue at all, I’ll try to do enough research to give you an answer.

Do I come off as a horrible, strict asshole? I do! I’m not going to say that I am just a shy bean who is more scared of you than you are me. I’m not. I’m honestly feral, but have common decency, compassion, and sense. All of which are lacking in the general RPC. So, if you can inbox/common/otherwise interact with anyone else on this site, you can totally handle me!

Honesty and openness are policies.

And in the spirit of that, I repeat; you can fucking do better, tumblr RPC!

#pinned post #tumblr rpc #rph #rp help #rp advice #rpbetter

[thelastofgala]

I started The Last of Us, Pt. 2 last night, and here are my first impressions, musings on parallelism, Naturalism, Ellie’s characterization, Joel’s characterization, the “presence” of Riley, gameplay, story development, and more:

***SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT***

Starting with Joel. I always imagined The Last of Us 2 would begin at the end of Joel’s journey, though I will say that I did not expect to pick up so close to the end of the first game. I thought they would start us somewhere COMPLETELY out of context. Like I was prepared for much deeper flashback. In this way, I really felt like I was playing a sequel, which is not a bad thing. I just had no idea how they were going to frame this. The compelling thing about starting with Joel is that it immediately sets up parallels between Joel and Sarah, the character we start with in The Last of Us. There’s no way this was not a pointed decision. Just like it was with Sarah, Joel is our point of reference in a new, strange world. His point of view in this new world is all that we know. We don’t know what the new special world contains, and we don’t know grown-up Ellie at all. Plus, old fans will have missed him. It is a comfort to be Joel, and like a daughter protected by her father, a false and short-lived comfort. We are also now thinking of Joel as, like Sarah, someone who is in danger, whose agency is compromised, who, for whatever reason, is weakened this time around, and who may not survive the story. 

I will say, too, that I really loved that after the 4-years-later cut, Joel is held off-screen. He and Tommy are out on a patrol. They are out there, in danger, and that sort of restraint is really effective. We are ALWAYS looking for Joel, just like we were in the run-up to the release, because he is the only person we truly know in this strange, new world. ND knows and takes advantage of this.

There are many parallels between Joel and Riley. Both Joel and Riley sneak up on Ellie during their first interaction. They’re even wearing similar colors. Both Joel and Riley lied to Ellie in the previous story, and both betrayed her as an act of self-preservation. In Left Behind, Ellie is somewhat chilly toward Riley in the beginning, even as her younger, more optimistic self, just as Ellie is chilly toward Joel in the beginning of The Last of Us 2. Still, you can tell through Ellie’s dialogue with Dina that she and Joel are knitted together—he defended her against the bigoted bartender, and she appreciates this even if she doesn’t outright say it. They share taste in movies and have plans to watch a movie together soon. I haven’t interacted with Joel in the current timeline, but I do know that in Left Behind, Riley has to earn back Ellie’s trust and take measures to reenter her good graces, and that this is a large part of their relationship arc. I also know that, by the time they reconcile, it proves to be too late. The world will not let them have what they want, and nothing is simple. All of these parallels worry me a lot, as Left Behind, while still driven by a strong undercurrent of love (it is a love story, interwoven with Ellie’s desperate search for medical supplies in a bid to save Joel’s life), is a much bleaker, sadder story than The Last of Us, and it has a tragic ending.

Joel's conversation with Tommy feels important. I was very glad to hear Tommy say that he would have made the same choice, in terms of saving Ellie or letting her die for the possibility of a cure. It shows that Tommy is more like Joel than perhaps we knew. Plus, Maria will have taught him something about love and commitment, as the notion of saving the one you love above all else should make more sense to him now that he has foregone the youthful idealism of the Fireflies in order to focus on the practical wisdom of family. As a parent, I understand Joel’s decision to save Ellie at the end of The Last of Us and know I would have done the same. I also understand why Joel lied, even though I think it was the wrong choice. Hearing him confide all of this in Tommy was cathartic. It was also very characteristic of Joel to respond that Ellie “didn’t say nothing otherwise” when Tommy asks if she believed him. In all of his denial, Joel chooses to believe what is conveniently in front of him, even if he knows it’s untrue. Also, I couldn’t tell, but was that a Firefly logo on that guitar he’s shining up? Maybe I hallucinated that. But if it is, I do wonder where he got it.

Ellie’s character is much more deadpan and ruminative in young adulthood. She seems tired, and a little lacking in self-esteem and sort of immediately defeated by what happened during the experience with Joel. When Joel sang, we could see her return to that place, just a glimmer, and her response—that it “didn’t suck”—shows how she still shields her heart with sarcasm, something Dina points out to her later on (“Did I ruin your punchline?”). Joel has been broken down by the events of The Last of Us and now bears his soul to her with his music, unabashed and dedicated to her, and Ellie is now the stoic one, unshakable, sealed inside a heavy, protective armor that seems impossible to pierce. I look forward to getting to know Ellie as a young adult and, ultimately, crying a lot. She is artistic and honest and still a little soft underneath. You can tell by her early interactions with Dina especially that she can still blush, and she can still come undone.

I love the snowball fight lol. I am always so frustrated when these big environment games, like Red Dead 2, Dragon Age, etc., don’t have any kids running around. Why don’t these stories pay attention to kids? Kids exist. They are an important part of almost any open world or quasi open world environment. I love the presence of kids in The Last of Us 2, because the loss of childhood innocence is an important theme for Ellie as a character. It’s also clear we’re trying to set up the edenic innocence of Jackson. It is childhood, in a way, and just like childhood, it will come to inevitable corruption. The scene, too, reminded me of Ellie and Riley on their teen dream adventure, romping through the Halloween store at the mall, trying on masks and talking to the magic eight ball.

I’m really pleased by all the parallels with Left Behind and Ellie’s portion of the journey in The Last of Us. Winter was her season, and that’s where we’re starting now. The horseback riding, the blizzard, and all the blood in the snow bring flashbacks of Ellie hunting on the woods, Ellie alone in the frozen mall, David, and the Lakeside Resort, all of which layer the current moment with a lot of emotional tension for the player.

The opening is, I think, sprawling. I’m having fun but there’s this sense that I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface of the story. Like Joel in the first game, Ellie is also big-timing me a little and I feel far away from her. I know this will change soon, and I’ll warm up to her, but for now, like Joel, we’re all being held at arm’s length. I actually like the POV shifts we’ve gotten so far and the multiple POVs is something I predicted a while ago, based on ND’s tendencies in the first game. Ppl are going to give The Last of Us 2 shit for being too cinematic but tbh it sometimes feels more like a playable novel than a traditional video game. We’re on a cable car headed straight into disaster and there’s nothing we can do. In this way the game is using the medium itself to perpetuate its Naturalistic themes. We play and we play, and we fight and we fight, but the environment entertains no interest in our struggle and the outcome will always be the same. There is no free will in The Last of Us.

On that note, the gameplay so far is, I think, pretty fun. I have played a lot of stealth games and am always looking for ways the genre is reinventing itself. Like Sekiro and Tomb Raider, The Last of Us 2 is increasing the verticality of the map with rope climbing and scaling up obstacles (though I do miss using Joel’s immense upper body strength to move those dumpsters around lol). In a stealth game I want creativity and problem solving to be central to the gameplay. I don’t want to be magically handed tools and weapons on a constant basis, to meet every individual need. I want to be forced into resourcefulness, and I don’t want to enter a shoot-out unless I absolutely have to. That said, I’m nearly to the tower checkpoint with Dina, and I’ve only fired my gun twice. The dodge/melee mechanic is neat, but more than anything, having real, actionable help from an AI enables stealth kills even in zones crawling with enemies. On that note, I am playing with a headset, and I’m glad I am, because I find the sounds of the goddam clickers to be all-encompassing this time around and a LOT bigger and scarier than they were in The Last of Us. Holy shit. They’re absolutely terrifying. I can only imagine the horror to come lol.

Now, finally, Abby: I don’t have much to offer on this yet. Abby is not who I thought she’d be. I’ll just say it. Still, the melee battle with her and the runners in the woods was AWESOME. For me, the most fun I’ve had yet, because it was completely different than anything from The Last of Us. Playing her, however, I will say, filled me with foreboding. I didn’t want to be there. I didn’t want to help her. She seems beyond desperate and while deeply sympathetic, she is a new character and her loyalties are not mine...so far. I could be very wrong, and please don’t correct me if I am, but I get the sense she might be a Firefly, or somehow associated with Marlene, and she is looking for Joel, in vengeance. Her group was small and rogue, and they seemed new to the area. All I know is that ND is creating a moral dilemma here, and as to what will become of this, the jury is still out completely.

One small personal criticism, take it or leave it: I don’t personally love that the kiss with Dina and scene with Joel defending Ellie was kept off-stage in the game and left to the trailer. We could have started at the dance. That would have taught us everything we need to know about Ellie, Dina, Jesse, and Joel and Ellie’s relationship state. This is my only criticism of the story so far. From a writer’s perspective, it’s just inefficient and clumsy to try and cover all that in expositional dialogue, taking into consideration that many casual players will not have seen all the trailers. Even still, it’s not hurting my experience in any way. Just an observation and maybe a bit of personal opinion on the fact that perhaps the choice to reveal so much scene in pre-release trailers might be a great way to build hype but might not be the most efficient choice in telling the actual story. My two cents!

In the end, I’m overall super excited and can’t wait to keep playing. These are just my own personal thoughts, and I’ll be back with more thoughts soon!! PLEASE NO SPOILERS OR SPOILERY SUGGESTIONS IN THE REPLIES!! I am NOT privy to the leaks and I do NOT want to know what’s coming. Thank you!! ^_^ 

#tlou2 #The Last of Us 2 #tlou2 spoilers #the last of us 2 spoilers #the last of us part 2 #gala's thoughts

[missbeautyandherbeast]

Conflict of Interest

Raphael X Reader

Summary: Casey Jones was your childhood best friend, until he moved away when you went into middle school. Seemingly life times ago, what happens when he shows up in the midst of your new life? 

A/N: Okay so I’ve been meaning to write this one for a while, and it’s pretty angsty. Casey is a bean and Raph is well... Raph. But there is a happy ending I promise. Sort of. HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS ARE IMPORTANT, anyway. I love you guys so so much and I’m so proud of you. No matter what you’ve done or haven’t done. Let me know what you think!

Tags: @brightlotusmoon​ @boatloadsofheart @legandarybeauty​​ @crazywritingbug​​ @bitch-kms @ravn-87 @just-a-casual-fangirl-011​​ @unicornjoos @stuckoutsideofthebox @ilikestuffproductions​ @whygz​ @coffee-addicti​​ @sugarspooks15 @leslieebee@serperiorkb@blossom-skies @fantastical-67impala-fangirl@coresan​ @big-banging-red​ @iceprincess2019​ @raphaeladdict​ @thirstyforvenom​ @merindagriese​ @depressedemo-152​ @bengewatch @corabmarie​ @bitemebro522​ @tmnt-queen​ @muleka-loka​ @violet-sky-96​ @curadopordeus​ @artemismohr18​ @thewhisperpen​ @xjupitermoonsx​ @bisexualbumblebeesstuff​ @merindagriese @oceans-daughter-3​ @dixonreedusfangirlforever 

“Yo, Raph, you ready to head out?”

My eyebrows furrowed slightly as I looked up from my perch on Raph’s lap as we watched an old 80s movie.

“Casey? Casey Jones?” I was grinning ear to ear as I got up.

“What? Y/n!? What the hell are you doing here?” He was beaming at me as he hopped over the couch pulling me into a hug.

“I could ask you the same thing!” I laughed. “Wow, small world.”

“Whoa, whoa, someone wanna explain what’s going on here?” Raph stood, getting protective, and if I didn’t know any better jealous. “How do you two know each other?”

“We grew up together. He lived next door.” I explained, a warm smile on my face. 

“And you two were friends?”

“Well, I mean she did punch me in the face,” Casey teased.

“You said I wouldn’t!” I argued back. “I’m not a pansy.”

“Yeah, Uhuh,” Casey rolled his eyes. “So, what are you doing here?”

I raised an eyebrow and glanced up at Raphael, who was tensed to fight. Overprotective baby. Realization flickered across Casey’s face.

“No way! She’s the chick you’ve been talking about!?” He asked Raph, to which I questioned him myself with the perk of an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” He grumbled, turning red.

“How many Y/ns do you know Case?” I teased.

“Fair point.” He smiled, “Man he’s right, you grew up real pretty. Why didn’t you do that when I was around? I would have asked you out for sure,”

“You had years CJ; besides it would have been weird, we were like family.” I rolled my eyes. 

“CJ?” Raph muttered. “He’s CJ?” He was so not enjoying this reunion.

“My mom didn’t like me calling him Case, so CJ, Casey Jones.” I explained. “I thought I told you?” I squeaked.

Raph didn’t say anything.

Casey looked me over and shook his head.

“Y/n Y/l/n, after all these years, look at you.”

I blushed slightly and looked down. I could feel the annoyance radiating off of Raphael in waves. It was almost tangible.

“So... you two have plans?” I redirected the conversation, looking up at Raphael who was thinking about something other than gallivanting on the rooftops of New York with Casey.

Raph huffed and rolled his eyes, pushing past the both of us and headed towards the exit, to the surface. I sighed softly and wrapped my arms around myself, shaking my head softly.

“I didn’t get you in trouble, did I?” Casey asked.

“No,” I turned back to him. “But you know Raph, he’s protective. I’ll talk to him,” I grabbed my jacket from the back of the couch and shrugged it on.

“No, I can do it, besides, it’s guys night.” Casey interjected.

I rolled my eyes.

“CJ, if you go out there you’re probably going to get punched in the face, and it won’t be by a ten-year-old girl.” I gave him a knowing look, slipping on my shoes. “It was really nice to see you though Case, we’ll have to catch up some time,”

I headed out of the lair, heading to the rooftops via the nearest fire escape, the brisk New York fall air assaulting me.

“Red!?” I called, scanning the rooftops. “Red, it’s me!

“Why aren’t you off with your best friend?” He dropped down behind me, almost growling. 

“Raph,” I turned and smiled softly. “You’re my best friend, you know that.”

“Do I? Because you seemed pretty cozy with Casey in there,” He spat.

My eyebrows furrowed as I studied him, trying to figure out what he was really feeling under the angry front that he put up.

“I haven’t seen him in almost ten years, we used to be best friends Raphael,” I paused as he turned away from me. “I’m... sorry if I hurt you. I just wasn’t expecting to see him.”

“I don’t want you to see him anymore,” Raph ordered.

“Excuse me?” I tilted my head, my stubborn streak flaring.

“You heard me,” He snapped.

“No, what I heard was you ordering me to do something like you have some power over me!” I folded my arms. “You can’t and won’t stop me from seeing my friend.”

“Won’t, huh?” He challenged.

“I won’t let you.” I narrowed my eyes. “You can’t order me around,” I grit my teeth.

He stalked over to me, staring me down, using his height and stature against me.

“If you like Casey so much why don’t you go and be with him?” He snarled.

“Because I don’t love Casey!” I growled. “I love you!”

“Coulda fooled me,”

I blinked at his words, hurt filling up in my chest as I took a small step backward. My arms, once folded in defiance, now wrapped themselves around me in defense and comfort.

Looking down I bit my lips, shaking my head.

After everything that I had given, everything that I put up with and gave to him... We had fights before. It was unavoidable with his temper and my stubbornness... but he never crossed a line like that. I didn’t even know that I had drawn a line like that.

“You... really think I don’t love you?” My voice was small, afraid. I didn’t dare to look up at him.

He didn’t answer. Maybe that hurt worse than if he did respond.

“I’m sorry...” I whispered and fled from the roof, fighting tears as I made it back to my apartment.

I ran into Casey though in my feat. Or maybe he was there waiting for me. 

“Hey, Y/n/n, what’s going on? What did he say?”

“Nothing Case... just stay out of it.” My voice broke, as a tear escaped.

“No, Y/n, come on, let me help.” He grabbed my arm and spun me around, holding my shoulder gently.

His brown eyes promised comfort. They promised summer days in the sun and climbing treed and laughs and safety. They promised home. It broke me.

My tears started to fall as I desperately wiped away my tears not caring in the slightest that he pulled me into a comforting embrace, or that Raphael would be watching. I needed a friend right now. I needed Casey right now.

“He said he didn’t think that I loved him,” I hiccupped into Casey’s shoulder. “He wanted me to stay away from you.”

“That asshole,” He muttered, rubbing my back. “Let me take you home, then I’ll go talk to him,”

“CJ, you can’t do that. He’s so beyond mad right now.” I fought back weakly. “You’ll get hurt... I don’t want him to hurt you too,” I whispered.

“I can handle myself,” He smiled. “Besides, nothing could hurt more than you breaking my nose,” He baited.

I sniffled a laughed and wiped my eyes.

“You’re the one who said I wouldn’t do it,” I argued weakly.

I led him as we walked along the dark streets of New York, and I couldn’t deny that I was glad that Casey was there. I couldn’t imagine walking home alone like this and not being a potential target.

We fell into a comfortable silence, walking next to another. It was like breathing being around Casey.

“This is me,” I whispered, pausing at my building door. “Thanks Case... please, just leave it for the night,” I begged.

“Yeah, sure, sure,” He smiled. We both knew that he wasn’t letting it go. I sighed softly.

“Thank you, Casey,” I smiled softly. “Despite the turn of events, I’m really glad that I got to see you again.”

“Same here,” He returned the smile and pulled me into a quick hug. “Night Y/n,” 

“Night CJ,” I gave and headed inside.

Closing and locking the door to my apartment, I leaned against it and rubbed my face, sliding down to the floor.

___________________________

“Raph, what the hell man!?” Casey hopped up onto the roof. 

“Fuck off Casey,” He growled, pacing and drawing out his sais.

“No! I don’t really give a damn what you do about me, but you hurt Y/n and that’s not okay with me!” Casey held his ground.

“Oh, and you think you know her now!?” Raph coked his head to the side. “She’s mine.”

“Then why are you treating her like shit!? She doesn’t deserve that. For once she got to be happy and have another friend in on the secret and you shut her down!” Casey yelled.

Raph growled and tensed to attacked. Casey just stood there.

“Hit me, break me, do whatever Raph, I don’t care, but stop hurting her. She’s my friend. She’s my family.” Casey’s voice was calm and collected as he remained defenseless.

He poised to strike. Casey flinched, awaiting the blow. 

“Raphael!”

They both turned to see you coming over the side of the building and running between the two. You were panting and determined. Your eyes like ice as you glared Raphael down.

“He’s my friend, and I won’t let you hurt him. Not over me.”

“Get out of the way,” Raphael hissed, keeping his eyes locked on Casey. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Really?” You snorted. “I don’t think that’s the case Raph. I really don’t.” 

His eyes flashed to yours, confused.

“What do you mean?”

 ____________________________

“You want to hurt me,” I bit out. “You want to hurt me like it hurt when I saw Casey again. You want me to hurt because you’re hurt.”

His eyes narrowed as my heart hammered in my chest and adrenaline coursed through my veins. We stared each other down, neither one giving in.

“You want to hurt him? You go through me.” I hissed. “Because you can’t hurt him without hurting me too,”

I watched as the resolve in his eyes unraveled and slowly, he sagged into a stance of defeat.

“Casey get out of here,” I hissed. “Now.”

“Yes ma’am,” I heard him mutter as I went over to Raph.

I didn’t know what to say to him. I didn’t know how to make any of this right. Here were these two pieces of my life, once in perfect order, now colliding together into a jumbled mess.

Raph spoke while I was mentally trying to sort this all out.

“I... understand if you want to be with him over me,” He sounded defeated. 

There it was. There was what he had been hiding behind all the anger and fury. 

“If I wanted to be with him, I would have said yes to him a long time ago Raph,” 

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

I let out a little laugh.

“Everyone expected us to get together. We were childhood sweethearts you could say... and he did ask me out... in maybe fifth grade? I said no, and he moved away with his dad that summer.” I smiled at the memory. “God, he was a dorky kid,”

I looked up at Raph,

“But I said yes to you,” I wrapped my arms around myself. “The girl Casey knew... she’s long gone. But there was a time that she needed someone like Casey.” I looked over the edge to the city around us.

“And now?” Raph came up beside me.

“Now I need you,” I shot him a look. “Even if you are an asshole sometimes.”

He chuckled sadly and shifted sheepishly.

“Y/n, I’m sorry about what I said...” He admitted, timid. “I didn’t mean it. I know you love me. I do, I was just...”

“Scared. Hurt. I know Raph,”

“Jealous,” He corrected. “I was jealous, and I should have trusted you. I felt like I was going to lose you,”

“The only way you could lose me is by sending me away,” I whispered. 

“I’m sorry Y/n,”

I took a deep breath and nodded.

“I know,” I turned to him, “I know, but that wasn’t okay... I’m going to have friends. I’m going to have other guy friends and you need to be okay with that. Raph... you’re apart of my world... not all of it. I know that hurts but...” 

“You have a life beside me,” He completed. 

I nodded. 

“I’m really sorry Y/n, I’ll... I’ll work on it.” He promised. 

I gave a hesitant smile, wanting to believe him. Only time would tell. 

“Now what is this I hear about you punching Casey in the face?” 

.

.

Like my writing? Want more? Here’s my masterlist!

#tmnt #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raph #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph 2012 #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt casey jones #tmnt casey x reader #tmnt donatello #tmnt Donnie #tmnt mikey #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt x oc #tmnt x you #TMNT x reader #tmnt x y/n #tmnt x #teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2016 #teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine #raph #raphael #raphael hamato #raphael x reader #Casey Jones #tmnt angst

[youralternantpersonality]

Eternal Love

Paul x Reader: Eternal Love.

Part 1: Eternal Love

Part 2: Everlasting Love

Part 3: Endless Love

Part 4: Enduring Love

***

Darkness. All I see is darkness…I’m calm yet scared. I don’t understand what’s going on. I am in the forest in La Push, walking aimlessly. Not heading anywhere. I want to go home but I also like it here. I feel…at peace. I look over and I see a never-ending path of trees. What makes it eerie is that there’s no animals, no background noise, even when I get close enough to the dirt, no worms, ants, spiders, anything. I feel like I’ve been stuck here for almost an hour or so. And after some time, I realize something…where’s my dog?

“Snout! Snout! Where are you?” I yell and start looking around. I hear a bark in the distance and run towards it.

“Snout! Baby, come here!” I hear more barking and I run towards that direction. Something seems familiar about this. I just can’t figure out what it was.

Paul’s POV

Five days. That’s how long it’s been since the good doctor Cullen has told me that the love of my life, the only reason I even exist, the one who would calm me yet irritate me out of love, The One; gone. At least, not completely. She’s in a vegetable state—can’t move willingly, can’t hear, smell, taste anything. Hooked up to a machine that is keeping her on this earth. I haven’t moved from this spot by her bed unless I have to shower and eat (demands by Emily).

As I sit here, looking at my beautiful Y/n, bruises along her left side of her body, a cast that covers her arm, hip, and legs, bandages wrapped around her head, I can’t help but cry nonexistent tears. I have cried all of what I had left over the past few days. I can remember everything that happened so clearly. Regret consumed me, so much so, that Dr. Cullen was gracious enough to fix the damages in the bathroom attached to her room when I smashed my fist into the mirror, and he got her, her suite in the hospital.

I fucked up. Everyone tried to make me feel better, but deep down, we all know what I did was what put her in this situation. Which is why I begged, no pleaded, even bargained with the Good Doctor to change her. He wanted to help, but because of the treaty….

“…I cannot Paul. The treaty states…”

“Fuck the treaty! She’s the love of my life! I can’t lose her! I may have fucked up and caused this, but I can’t let her go! Please!” I pleaded outside of his home. His wife, Esme, came next to me and hugged me as I fell to the ground. I didn’t care if she was eerie rock solid or cold as ice, I just needed my Y/n/n back.

As I am looking at her currently, caressing her little finger that is hanging outside her cast, I think back to how we met.

At the Beach: September 2nd, 2018;

There was a birthday party at the beach and, like what anyone would expect from us, the guys and I crashed it. It seemed boring until we, I, showed up. The host was too tipsy to give a crap and was just happy to see more people. I was flirting, per usual, with some lovely girls when the host calls out a name. And what made me respond was the voice and fragrance that came with it.

“What hoe!” a laugh followed afterward. The wind blew a sweet fragrance, pomegranate mango with an orange-like citrus smell to it. I turned my head at the right time to see Y/n. I couldn’t take my eyes off her as she walked towards who I found out later to be Angela—one of Bella’s old friends. She went up to hug her and Y/n looked around. That’s where our eyes came in contact. Everything else around me disappeared and I didn’t care for anyone or anything around me. I slowly made my way up to her and she just smiles as I do so.

“Hello, beautiful. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here. I’m Paul, what’s your name?” I smile, not one of my flirty smiles, a genuine smile. It’s weird, I never wanted to imprint EVER in my life, but over time, it didn’t seem too bad. And now, I’m not complaining.

“Hmm, you seem dangerous.” A cheeky smile is placed on her face, she looks me up and down and turns her body towards me.

“I’m Y/n, but people call me Y/n/n.” I smile and shake her hand. Both of our eyes widen at the electricity flow, the magnetic force pulling us to one another, and this cloud 9 effect that is taking over. I look down at her and smile.

“Hmm, you seem like you’re about to ruin my life,” I said jokingly. She smiles and laughs.

“I guess we’re a match huh?”

“I guess we are. So, tell me about yourself.” And from then on, we were together.

But it seems like life wanted to make a full circle.

Current Day: August 30th, 2020

“Paul, the council is still debating. I know this is hard, but please, at least for Emily, go home and get some rest.” Sam said. Normally, I’d take alphas orders, but this time, I can’t. I shake my head and head towards the bathroom. I brush past him and Jake and just stand there behind the door. I look at myself in the mirror and can see emotional and physical damage.

I’ve lost weight, I have deep dark circles around my eyes, my eyes itself is bloodshot red. My skin is sickly pale, not it’s normal “golden glow honey brown sugar” skin that my little raven called it. I laugh at that memory. She was whimsical, mysterious, and protective like a raven. Her secret personality was as big as one too. She called you in naturally by her beauty—inner and outer beauty.

At Paul’s house: November 2018

We were laying on the couch relaxing before I had to go on patrol. She was reading a book with her legs planted in my lap, I was deep engrossed to the video game I was playing when suddenly, I feel a pair of eyes on me.

“Make a video to remember this moment then replay it when you miss me.” I smile and look over at her. All I could see is her big y/e/c eyes staring back at me. One eyebrow raised and her book was covering the bottom half of her face.

“You know,” she says sitting up, putting down the book, “it’s not fair how clear and bright your skin is. You have this…this golden glow…with, like, honey brown sugar swirled in it. You suck.” She says pouting. I pause the game, lean over to her, and place most of my weight on her while kissing her neck. She squeals underneath me and starts laughing. I smile and kiss her softly while poking my nose into her cheek.

“I love every bit of you, my love. You may see flaws, but with my heightened eyesight, I can see little freckles kissed all along your face. Matter of fact, let me show you where.” Then I proceeded to kiss all over her face. She laughs uncontrollably.

“But you don’t have the curse of hyperpigmentation! You see freckles, I see never-ending scars.” I hate it when she gets like this. It hurts me, to see the love of my life feel as if she has to be something different to even be next to me.

“Baby, stop,” I said calmly, I learned quickly that I would have to control my tone around her. She can read me like a book and because her emotions can get the best of her, yelling could end in two ways. One, she’ll fight back—she’s all bark and bites—so no one messes with her for a while when she’s at that point. Or two, she starts tearing up and holds back tears. Not for manipulation reasons that most girls do, but for the fact that she intakes certain emotions and she has no control over hers.

“I know you may feel that way, and you have to remember, I did too. You know, I was human like you before my wolfy sense’s kicked in.” I smile as she smiles back. “Just know my love, I don’t see anything wrong with you. I could never.” I place my forehead on hers. “I love you too much to worry about things like that.” I kiss her. She looks at me and says,

“So, if you didn’t love me, you’d notice it?” I look at her with a blank face, roll my eyes, and just roll off the couch. I can feel her watching me.

“Well…”

“You know, you’re a little shit, right?” I say with my hands covering my face. She lays on top of me and says,

“But you love me, remember.”

“Oh my god…” I just squeeze her to me and laugh along with her.

Current Day: August 30th, 2020

I step back out into the room where Dr. Cullen and Sam are waiting for me. I stop and look at them.

“The council decided…” Sam said, I looked up with hopeful eyes…

“They will agree to it, if…” Carlisle started.

“If what?” I say, taking a step forward.

“If she leaves until she can handle being around humans. And…” Sam began,

“She can’t go back to La Push,” Carlisle said. I replayed what they said…. she can change but can’t come back until she’s able to be around humans, but she can’t come back to La Push. I nod my head.

“How long does it usually take for your kind to get better at being around humans?” I ask quietly. Carlisle looked at Sam with guilt and answered.

“It depends on the person's restraint. Within their first year, their blood still runs in their body, so blood lust, especially from humans, is out of control. After a year, it gets better. Although, with our diet, it’s harder but not impossible.”

“But how long in total?” I asked anxiously. He looked at me with genuine sad eyes.

“Up to three years or so.” He said with sorrow in my eyes. For once in the few days I’ve been here, a new emotion that I haven’t touched came out. Rage.

“Three years! I can’t go that long without her! I’m coming with you.” I said to Carlisle. Sam looked at him for an answer. This is the first time I’ve seen him rely on his answers on another person’s answer.

“You can, but there’s no guarantee of anything. Her body may or may not accept the venom. She may or may not remember you. She may have anger towards you about what happened if she remembers what happens. Anything could happen Paul. Is it worth the risk?” without hesitation, I answered.

“Yes.” Sam nodded his head and gave me the okay. Even if he wouldn’t have, I still would have followed them. He knows just as much as anyone that separating imprints from one another is a death sentence.

“We leave tonight. Edward and I will take her to Alaska with some friends of ours. I will administrate the change there. Because you are in no condition to shift, we plan on flying. Medical services will meet us there with her. We have paperwork stating that they are her closes family since she doesn’t have one.” I nodded my head and took a deep breath.

“Thank you. I know this is a reach, but can I ask for one favor.”

“Of course.”

“Can you freeze her eggs.” They looked at me confused and with shock. So, I explained,

“We’ve always talked about having children. She’s always wanted children of her own and to adopt some. I know she wouldn’t care too much about it, but I also know that would make her happy.” I begged the doctor. He sighed and nodded.

“it shouldn’t be a problem, since she’s already under my friends name as family, Eleazar would be okay with it.” I nod my head and look back at my angel.

“Emily, Kim, and Clair will be up here in a few. Go home and rest for tonight Paul. I promise, she’ll be okay. If she’s going to have the procedure, you need to be ready for when it’s over and to head out.” I didn’t argue this time. I walked over to her and kiss her head.

“Don’t leave me, my love. I’ll be here waiting for you. Always.”

My Love (for the series)

Masterlist

#paul lahote twilight #paul lahote #paullahote #paul lahote x reader #paullahotexreader #twilight #twilightsaga #twilightwolfpack #paullahotetwilight #new moon #newmoon #eclipse #breaking dawn #breakingdawn #breakingdawnpartone #BreakingDawnPart2 #breakingdawnpart1 #midnightsun #midnight sun #Bella Swan #bella cullen #bellaswan #bellacullen #edward cullen #edwardcullen