#wanna hear (read??) me swear in spanish?

[satellitespinner]

✼ mommy issues .. (two)

a/n: PLEASE READ CONTENT WARNINGS ! holy gyat i just ate good chilli and it made me wanna get pregnant ANYWAYS.. i was gonna add spice but i found out the girl i like had a crush on a dude so you get more angst:) enjoy

content warnings: ANGST readers child is described to have curly hair, reader is of spanish speaking descent. (or atleast speaks it.) we on some white people shit lowk… ellie is good with kids😍😍😍😍😍 reader works in a hospital! you kids lowk an ass.. ellie has another panic attack. ellie still sad. CANADA MENTIONED RAAAHHHHHHHH cat brought up!!!! we almost get a kith…. this bitch is not proofread

wc: 4.4k

taglist @flowersforvi @ellslvr @saturnsdrafts @3lli3l0v3r @williamssgirl @liasxeatt @adelaide013 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @elliessweetheart @pedropascalsbbg @ellies2missingfingers @nelzooo @r3starttt @jaeminpookie @onlinelesbo @tphmnv @p4ison1vy @pascals-doll @snowy-vee @diddiqueen @littlegingerperson5 @ellieslob @elliessluutt @macaroni676

a few days later ellie finds herself sitting in a booth at her work with her two colleagues. tonight was the first time she was going to babysit your son, and she was terrified

she found that in this moment was the first time her thoughts weren’t plagued of joel since he died.

“i swear! not even light years could dim such a woman.” ellie describes you as if you were a goddess. well, to her you were.

“can you shut the fuck up with that weird space shit and talk like a normal person?”

jesse scolds jokingly. he winces in pain as dina’s foot meets his shin under the table.

“whatever, dude. it’s true.” the girl sulks.

“hey! speaking of space nerd shit. how’s school going, el?” dina asks with a smile on her face.

little did she know the mere mention of school caused gut plummeting anxiety for ellie.

“uhh, it’s good. it’s- school, you know?.” ellie mutters, there isn’t much to say. besides the fact that she’s gonna fail if she doesn’t scrape together a thousand dollars for fucking textbooks.

sometimes ellie wondered if dina struggled with money. she works this shitty waitressing job for twenty bucks an hour, and she has a son. but then again, she didn’t have the burden of school on top of all her other responsibilities.

the table goes quiet after ellie’s response. she’s not one to open up about her personal life. she only told dina about joel dying a few weeks ago.

joel. joel.

ellies mind clouds over. like a switch that clicked, making her go from happy to sad in a matter of seconds. she was always like that.

“ellie?” she hears a feminine voice break her out of her trance. a sympathetic expression on dina’s face when ellie looks up at her.

“sorry. what did you say?” she throws in a fake smile to distract from the fact that she was on the brink of another panic attack.

the last time she had a panic attack at work she was so embarrassed she didn’t come in for a week.

“i asked if you needed a ride tonight. y’know cause of the baby sitting.” dina offers, again.

ellie thinks about arguing with the girl, but she decides against it. knowing she’ll just end up in dina’s passenger seat anyway.

“yeah that would be awesome. thanks.” ellie couldn’t help but feel even more guilty every time dina offered. she felt like she was taking advantage of her. even though she knew she wasn’t.

ellie huffs out of her cheeks before standing up from the booth. “time to get back to work.” she jokingly frowns. causing jesse to laugh.

“it was time to get back to work 10 minutes ago.” he corrects in a ‘told you so’ tone as they start walking back to their designated areas.

“fuck off.” she peers, stopping so dina can catch up to them. she sticks her tongue out at jesse when dina places a hand on her shoulder.

“what a gentlewoman, she’s gonna love you.” she whispers and shoots ellie a wink. leaving ellie flustered yet rolling her eyes.

6:45

you had to be at work in an hour and your son was not cooperating.

“felix!” you shriek, the child was running around with a cheeto you gave him 3 hours ago. you fight the urge to laugh at his un styled curls and grimey face, but your stern mom facade over rode.

“¡vuelve aquí niño sucio!”

(“come back here dirty boy”)

he continued to run wild like a chicken with no head. you start to get sick of his behavior and put your foot down.

“felix. now.”

he stops in his tracks at your stern tone. he sulks as he makes his way to you. you smile at his obedience.

you take his gross cheeto and toss it into the trash. he pouts at your action which causes you to scoff. “put that lip away, chiquito.” you tease him.

he lightens up fast. his sad attitude being replaced with a toothy smile. it was infectious. whenever he was happy, you were happy.

“there we go!” you laugh as you zip up his sweater. he scrambles away before you could wipe the dirt off of his face. you sigh.

you picked your battles with him.

you decided to shoot ellie a quick text, hoping to prepare her for your crazy kid.

ellie’s running around the house in hopes to baby-proof the place when she gets a text from you.

sexy neighbor: hey ellie! he’s almost ready, and please excuse the dirt on his face. i promise i’m not a bad mom lol.

she smiles and begins to type back.

ellie: all good haha, is there any specific allergies or things you need done tonight?

she shuts off her phone and continues to clean up, moving the whiskey on the counter into the high parts of her cupboard.

she runs to her room and changes into a pair of gray sweats and a clean hoodie.

sexy neighbor: nope no allergies! could you make him dinner? if it’s to big of an ask i can totally send something! just say the word.

ellie: oh absolutely. i already planned to make him dinner anyway.

sexy neighbor: oh wow thank you so much, you’re going to be a great babysitter i’m sure 😉

ellie’s cheeks heat up at the text. you were such a mom. she thought to herself. she was just going to like the message when another comes through.

sexy neighbor: he is insisting to bring his coloring supplies. i hope that’s okay..?

ellie: oh wow were going to get along well. that’s totally fine :)

sexy neighbor: thanks sweetheart

a few minutes ellie’s front door is being knocked on by a small hand. when she opens the door she’s met with a backpack clad felix and you. in scrubs.

“hi!” she exclaimed as soon as she opened the door, her words mostly directed at the young boy.

“hello!” your son replies quickly. “i brought toys for us to play with!” she tells her, like he’s known her forever.

“oh thank god.” she puts a hand over her heart as she crouches down to his level.

“toys r’ scarce around here..” she warns. felix looks at her confused, but you laugh.

ellie stands up and puts out her hand for the boy to take, which he does. you smile at the interaction before crouching down to him.

“te amo, cariño” you gently whispered into his ear as you give him a small peck.

you stand up quickly and pull ellie in for a quick hug as well.

“thank you, again.” you sighed into the hug as you expressed your gratitude. ellie smiled at you. she really wanted to kiss you right now.

“don’t sweat it, now get going mom. you’re gonna be late!” she jokes as she looks down at your son.

“you’re right. i should go.” you make your way to the car and get in. you roll down your window and blew kisses at your son, who was now in ellie’s arms. you shoot ellie a wink before taking off.

ellie puts your son down, keeping his hand interlocked with hers as she takes him inside.

“hey kid, does your mom speak spanish?”

—————————————————————-

you found yourself immediately trusting ellie when you first met her. her green eyes reminded you of your own sons.

you saw yourself in her quite a bit, you could tell she was hurting. when she opened up to you that night in your kitchen about her father you could tell.

she told you she had grown up without a mother and all you could think about was nurturing and comforting her like she deserved.

you also saw the way she looked at you.

ellie found great comfort in your sons presence. he distracted her from her usual routine, which wasn’t the healthiest..

currently, felix had ellie drawing each one of his toy cars.

“like this?” she asks, flipping the paper to show him her drawing of a red car.

“no!” he denies before showing his own. a paper full of scribbles with his name poorly printed at the top.

“ohhh.. i see.” she says before flipping the paper back to herself and scribbling atop her original drawing.

“like this?” she asks once again.

“yes!” he confirms. ellie laughs at his childish antics.

the boy had requested a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner around 8:30.

“yeah i could go for a grilled cheese right now.” ellie agrees as she pats his head.

ellie had mastered the art of cooking before she was 14. when joel started fostering her the first thing she asked him was if she could use the kitchen.

although she would do anything to do that for her career, in this economy there was no chance. so she settled on astrophysics. and boy was it expensive.

she just hoped that everything would work out and she could make joel proud.

your shift was fucking exhausting. first, some random psych patient spit in your face. then, you spilt coffee all over yourself not even halfway through the night.

you were ready to go home and see your baby.

you had texted ellie a few times throughout the night for updates and she replied with something positive every time.

ellie next door: yeah he’s fine don’t worry! hes coloring right now.

you: awh that’s my boy. i hope he’s not being to much.

ellie next door: nope not too much at all

ellie next door: *one attachment*

he says hi mama !

you: oh my god aweeeeeee you two are so cute.

you smiled and saved the image to your camera roll without hesitation. it was a picture of your son at ellie’s kitchen table, markers and paper littered her table.

the reflection of her on the black television caught her smiling widely as he waved at the camera.

you: did he eat anything yet?

ellie next door: yep! he requested a grilled cheese. he also had some snacks earlier.

you: perfectttt you’re a life saver!

ellie contemplates how she should respond to your message. she could start flirting or she could img fucking chill and be normal.

she chose the latter.

ellie next door: haha! it’s really no problem :)

ellie had put your son to bed in her bedroom rather than the couch. the kid had toddled in there before ellie could reach him.

she tried to chase him down but his curiosity made him fast and sneaky.

“get back here lil’ man!” she giggles as his tiny feet smack against the hardwood floors.

he giggles as he ran away from her, running into the first open door he sees, that being ellie’s room.

he was awestruck by the many comic book posters and the guitar in the corner of the room was where he was headed.

before ellie grabbed him, that is.

“i don’t think so.” she laughs as she picks him up with ease. gently tossing him onto the bed.

“you have a boys room. but you’re a girl.” the boy points out, not in a bad way. ellie could tell he was just stating what he saw.

“yeah thanks for telling me i didn’t know.”

by the time you arrived home the sun was about to come up, and you were fucking exhausted. you contemplated asking ellie to keep him the rest of the night, but you didn’t.

your kid, your responsibility. you reminded yourself. as you knocked on ellie’s door.

pajama clad ellie opens the door with a smile, welcoming you in immediately.

“hey ellie, how was it?” you ask with a yawn. she guides you over to her kitchen island. her house layout almost identical to yours.

ellie smiles and describes her night with your son in great detail. your heart melts at the way her face lights up during certain points of her story. she recalls how she chased him around after dinner and he insisted on sleeping in her room.

your reach into your purse and searched your wallet, you spoke as your hands fumbled in your bag.

“i really cannot thank you enough,” you begin, finally pulling out your wallet and pulling out a few twenties for ellie. she looks confused as you try to pass them to her, putting her hands out to decline.

“you already paid me, remember?” you nod - urging her to take the extra cash.

“i just wanted to give you a little extra.” you smile and ellie almost cries. she held it together though, she probably told you thank you about forty times before you laughed and told her it wasnt a problem.

ellie lead you to her bedroom to retrieve your son, who was dead asleep underneath her planet print bedsheets. ellies cheeks turned pink when you giggled and said; “nice sheets, el.”

you tried to gently wake your son but he wasn't having it. you grabbed his arm to pull him out of the bed. he groans and slides himself underneath the covers. you are fully on your knees at this point. “i swear, if you embarrass me.” you threaten in a whisper so ellie didn't hear, she still did.

ellie chuckled lowly. “he can sleep here, its pretty late anyways.” she smiled.

you slightly bit your lip. “are you sure?” it wasn't ellie that you didn't trust, it was your kid. ellie wasn't hearing it.

“positive.”

sleepovers at ellies became a recurring thing after that. your son was so excited everytime she babysat and it made your heart so full.

this time in particular your son was extra excited. ellie had promised him ice cream for not putting up a fight to leave the previous time.

usually she greeted you at the door with a smile and a hug. but this time she didn’t answer at all..

“mama where’s ellie?” your son asked. “i don’t know baby.” you reply with a raise of your eyebrow.

you saw her arrive home, you two even spoke briefly before she went in to unwind. she seemed dull today.

you knew something wasn’t right so you decided to go in. your son followed you close behind. you sat him on the couch and advised him not to move.

the house was dark. you slowly stepped down the hallway.

“ellie? honey?” you called out, to your surprise there was no reply. a shiver crept up your spine.

you walked until you were faced with her bedroom door. it was slightly open. so you knocked before you stepped inside.

“ellie?”

the door cracked open as you entered. you didn’t know what to expect but it definitely wasn’t that.

ellie was laying in her bed, fetal position. sobbing her brains out. you were surprised you didn’t hear her when you were walking down the hall.

she gasped for air as you rushed to her. you sit down and sit her up so her back is against the headboard.

“shh, you’re okay. i’m here.” those words, although comforting triggered even more tears to fall. she didn’t know what she was doing.

the girl screamed in your arms for what felt like forever and you just sat there and held her. you whispered sweet words into her ears and rubbed circles on her back.

eventually your son had run through the door. a little gasp leaving his lips at the sight of ellie.

“ellie are you okay!?” he practically screamed in her face. you took your free hand and tried to shove him out the door.

ellie’s loud cries turned into soft sniffles as he wouldn’t leave. your son practically jumped onto her to try and make her feel better. your heart drops but ellie just laughs and pulls him into a deep hug.

ellie looks to you as your son babbles absolute nonsense into her shoulder.

“i’m really sorr-“ she starts, but you instantly cut her off.

“absolutely none of that.” you say, in your mom voice. her eyes widen at your tone.

“can you stay with els while i make a quick phone call?” you ask your son. he stands up tall. “yes!” he nods as if he were superman. you and ellie both laugh.

ellie knew exactly what put her in that position. her entire day was fucked from the beginning.

she should've called out of work when she woke up from a dream nightmare about joel.

she couldn’t stop thinking about the dream while doing her morning routine, or skating to work. which ended with her on the ground and her board in half.

if that wasn’t enough, while she was on her shift her ex walks in.

“you’ve got to be kidding me.” she whisper-yells as she watches the black haired, tattoo ridden girl takes a seat. with a new girl.

there was no way in hell she was going to serve them. she couldn’t ask dina, her table kept sending back the food. ellie was ready to go over there and rip them a new one. she refrained.

jesse couldn’t, obviously. she wasn’t going to ask sam. she looked like she was also on the verge of tears. i guess everyone’s having a shitty day. she thought to herself as she walked over to cats table. except you.

“ellie! hey!” cat smiled, she wasn’t happy to see ellie, it was an evil smile. she was happy to terrorize ellie.

“i forgot you worked here!” she continues, earning an eye roll from ellie. sure you did, bitch.

ellie keeps it short and sweet. oh how badly she wanted to ask if this was her new girlfriend. but she didn’t.

“what can i get for you?” she asks, she didn’t even bother plastering a fake smile on her face.

cat and her whatever she is tell ellie there orders and she’s out of there. she doesn’t even give out her scripted response of.

“great choices! that’ll be right out for you!”

she just leaves.

when ellie returns with the two plates the pair look to be in deep conversation.

perfect ellie thought. she could just put down the food and get the fuck out of there-

“so how’s joel?!” cat asks, her lips pursed and her hands intertwined underneath her chin. ellie takes a deep breath. she should’ve docked cat in the face. she didn’t.

the fucking nerve that this bitch has.

ellie doesn’t reply. she turns around and speed walks back to the kitchen where she breaks down for the first time that day. dina ended up finding her and bringing her home early.

to top off her picture perfect fucking day. ellie gets home and finds a new email from her prof. she quickly skims through. as soon as she read the words “cost” and a four digit number, she was done.

her wobbly legs about to give out underneath her as she lays down on her bed. she takes a few deep breaths but it doesn’t help.

she didn’t even hear you come in. but soon enough you were rubbing her back and telling her that it was going to be okay.

she couldn’t help but cry more because the last person to comfort her like that was him.

eventually you calmed her down. you left for a few minutes and came back with a glass of water and a few pain killers.

“take these, your head must be killing you.” you sit down next to her and rub her back as she throws the pills back.

god. ellie felt like such a child.

“good girl.” you whisper as she takes a few more deep breaths. eventually calming completely. the comment didn’t pass hee though. her cheeks (among other things.) were suddenly hot and sticky from tears.

she turned to make eye contact with you, her eyes blood shot. you wondered how long she had been crying for.

the first words that left ellie’s mouth were simple. “did you still want that ice cream, lil man?” your son jumped up and down before grabbing her hand and pulling her off into the kitchen.

ellie had sat him down with a kind portion of chocolate ice cream before she walked up to you.

“hes more than welcome to sleep here tonight. if you don’t feel like picking him up.” she clarifies. her hands on her hips.

“oh ellie, i called out of work. we’re both staying.” ellie’s jaw drops. she instantly starts shaking her head in denial.

“no no you didn’t need to do that trust me, i’m really fine-” you pull her in for a hug to shut her up. you hold her tightly as she sighs into your shoulder.

“i’m sorry.” she whispers. you could only imagine how embarrassed she must’ve been.

“don’t be. you’re human.” you reassure her. you wanted to cry now too. you knew she was going through a bit of money trouble but how broken was this girl?

that night after your son went to bed you listened to ellie rant about her life for hours.

for the most part she held back tears but when she brought up joel you could tell it was hard.

you didn’t pry, or ask questions. you just listened. you listened to the good and the bad.

you two laughed when she told you about when she kissed her best friend riley, and then cried when she told you that riley had moved to canada and that they haven’t talked since.

you had told ellie about how you discovered you were a lesbian during your marriage.

you were bruh shocked to find your now ex-husband very cool with it.

she found out that you guys shared custody and he owned a house in a different part of the city. ellie was a bit envious of your seemingly normal life. you didn’t have to worry about money. atleast, not as much as she did.

you were nodding along as ellie told you about joel. joel had fostered ellie since she was twelve, he adopted her officially when she was sixteen.

she told you how he taught her the guitar, and let her get a tattoo before she turned eighteen.

ellie and joel’s relationship was rocky before he passed. ellie was going through that age where she needed a mother when she started acting out.

“i was always angry.” she confessed. “i would say the cruelest things to him and he would just,” she paused, looking for the right word. “he just took it.”

you frowned at this.

if you had known about any of this you would have never thrown your kid at her for half the week.

among the bad, you also learned a few interesting things about ellie.

she really liked to cook, and she was fucking good at it. you discovered that when she pulled out leftover pasta and served it to you like you were a member of the royal family.

eventually it was your turn to talk her ear off. however, there wasn’t much to tell, you thought.

“uhm- my favorite movie is tangled.” you laughed. ellie blew a raspberry.

“oh c’mon mama, you didn’t have like - a crazy childhood?” she asked. mama, huh?

you shrugged and spoke “not much to tell.” ellie rolls her eyes.

“alrighty then.” she ponders for a moment before speaking “you wanna watch a movie?” she asked, smiling like a fox. you felt your core tighten.

you accepted her offer and she reached out and helped you off her bar stool.

“what a gentle woman.”

“so i’ve been told.”

you and ellie didn’t settle on a movie. she sat you down and told you that you were watching tangled.

you put your hands up in defense. “if you insist.”

“i do insist.” she lays a soft pink blanket over the two of you as the movie begins.

“didn't picture you as much of a pink girl.” you state, covering your arms up with the blanket.

“m’ not, it’s just for you.” she says, her eyes only leaving the television to meet your own.

“just for me?” you ask, putting a hand over your chest in flattery.

“mhm” she replies with a wink and turns her focus back to the tv. it was your turn to feel flustered at her actions. she was quite the flirt apparently.

rapunzel was currently interrogating eugene when you turned to ellie.

“this is also his favorite movie.” ellie smiled at the fact. “is it really?” she laughed. not a condescending laugh, but more of a ‘that’s the cutest thing i’ve ever heard’ laugh.

“it is! he loves it so much, it’s adorable.” you tell her.

“you’re adorable” ellie accidentally admits. her face flushing when she’s noticed what she said.

she’s about to profusely apologize and possibly crawl in a hole and die when you giggle.

“i could say the same about you.” you whisper, shifting your body a little closer to her own. you were already close, but now your thighs were touching.

you tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, her eyes still on the screen. you burn holes in the side of her face. she doesn’t budge.

“ellie?” you whisper, you see her swallow before turning to look at you.

“y-yeah?” her pupils had dilated just a bit and you swore her freckles were more prominent. maybe you were a bit too close-

“you’re very pretty.” you tell her, your eyes darting from her eyes to her lips. then back to her eyes again.

ellie didn’t respond, instead she smirked and licked her lips. “yeah, you think so?” she asks, mostly rhetorically but you answer anyway. “i know so.”

ellie’s lips are dangerously close to your own when she slips her hand under your chin.

“i think you’re the prettiest.” she whispers. you almost didn’t hear her.

you're closing the gap between you two when you hear your sons sleepy voice come out of nowhere. you and ellie both quickly pull away from each other and she clears her throat.

“‘punzel!” he cheers, one of his pant legs riding up his leg, his hair all frizzled. you both light-heartedly laugh at the boys appearance.

“c’mere, baby.” you bring your arms out from underneath the blanket. open for him to crawl into. he obliged and crakes into your lap. you couldn’t even be mad at him for being up so late at this point.

ellie reached up and strokes his hair gently.

fucking cockblock

#˚ ༘♡ ⋆ mommy issues¡fic #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie williams #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟizzie writes!? #ellie x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfic #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x mom reader

[mysticficti0n]

All my Attention part 3

warnings- swearing, mentions of a dildo, sexual tension, kissing, quite fluffy

words- 3.1k

If you'd like to read the previous parts → All my attention series

a/n- so if you're new here I am British and cannot speak any German, I speak a little French, Spanish and Italian but German- no. I also do not trust Google translate so this is gonna be like an avatar thing (if you've seen the newest one Jake says that their language just became normal or something along those lines) so in reality this is all in German, you as a reader know German but, its wrote in English... make sense? no... well, sorry this part has taken a while- I'm on holiday atm so I probably wont be posting till I'm home BUT I didn't want you to be without, also fucking thank you all so much for the response to the first and second part! I can't believe the response to it, I could've cried because im a baby , love you all 🤍

(also to the people who've sent requests they will be coming soon!)

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

backstory- you are the 5th member of Tokio Hotel and you always thought the love was equally platonic between you and a certain guitarist... but what if that all changed?

"exactly what I said- we can't keep doing the same thing at every show" Georg spoke shovelling eggs into his mouth, the band and our runners, managers, directors, and everyone else who I didn't know exactly what they did for us... were all sat on tables eating breakfast before rehearsal "because I'm sorry if we go on tour I wont wanna blow my brain out because i'm playing by your side for the millionth time"

"yeah but there's a thing called a set list, we have to stick with it otherwise" Bill leaned closer into the table facing all of us "otherwise we'd get shit and we all know how Felix will react- we all remember last time" he had a point, Felix as nice as he can act is a massive cock, once in a performance we decided to all go to the front of that stage to say goodnight- but Felix didn't like that and he ended up cancelling our next 3 shows to 'teach us a lesson'

"even so" the bassist grumbled, the conversation fell short as we all continued to eat, I had a bowl of granola, greek yogurt, raspberries and strawberries, soon the scrapping of a chair pulled me from eating my breakfast, I looked up to see Tom in a huge black shirt and basketball shorts "hungry?" Georg joked seeing the pile of food on his friends plate

"a bit" Tom laughed grabbing part of a waffle "whats that?" he spoke looking at me, that was the first time he spoke to me since what happened only an hour before, I think we were both in a shock state still, but I also couldn't deny how good it felt

"granola, yogurt and fruit" I spoke back digging my spoon into the mix and pulling it back so he could have a taste, he bent forward taking the food and hummed

"Tha actuwally gwood" he spoke mouth still full

"ew Thomas swallow for fucks sake!" I spat seeing him nearly choke the food back up "Tom!" I called pushing myself away from the table "whats wrong with you" I laughed I look to see the rest of the boys laughing as well at his stupidity

"we can't go anywhere nice with you two" Bill commented throwing a napkin to his brother who wiped his mouth and finished his laugh

"sorry- I don't know why that was so funny to hear you say" he snorted, I finally sat back in my place next to Gustav who was eating his food with a smile

"all I said was swallow your food" I argued back looking at the guitarist

"normally me saying that to girls-" I rolled my eyes at his words but everyone else chuckled along, after another half an hour (mostly so Tom could finish his monstrous plate) we were bringing our bags down from the hotel room to put in the bus, we all got in the lift which I don't think was made for 5 people, and 2 of those 5 being over six foot tall

"can you move over I can't fucking breath" I spoke shoving Bill back bit

"now I can't breath you cunt!" Bill called back pushing me back laughing, soon the intercom spoke and the doors opened and I made my way out but was soon tackled by the black haired singer

"BILL WHAT THE FUCK" I shouted with a laugh, I crawled from his grip and began running away seeing him get up to and following my movement "AHHH!" I screamed turning a corner and then slipping past a cleaner cart

"Y/N COME HERE!" I herd Tom voice shout as I sprinted to him with his twin hot on my tail, I watched him open his hotel room and I ran as quick as I could into it and slammed the door spitting out a chuckle hearing the boy hit the door

"BITCH!" Bill sang followed by his own laugh and steps faded away from the door, I sat on Tom's bed and lay my head back into the sheets catching my breath hearing the door open again

"you good now?" He asked smiling at me "I didn't realise you were that fast- I swear you weren't when we were kids"

"excuse me! people change" I answered kicking him slightly, he grabbed my ankle stopping me from moving anymore- I melted at his touch which wasn't a usual thing

"mhm, you changed in a good way babe don't worry about it" he flirted looking down at me the smile changing into a smirk

"you're in a very odd mood today mr Kaulitz" I spoke sitting myself as he let go of my ankle

"only for you-" he leant down, pressing his head on mine "and if I remember properly, who moaned when we kissed earlier? hum?" his hand was now resting on the base of my neck "who was it Y/n?"

"I don't know Tom" I answered seeing him bite his lip at my words "maybe you imagined it?" we always played around, flirting but this was different... very different

"I have a fucking good imagination then don't I?" Tom pulled away slightly, his his fingers brushed my skin as he let go and he held my chin, lifting my face to look up to him "....I prefer looking at you like this" I blushed at his words, they made me feel soft

"bet you say that to all the girls" he seethed rolling his eyes

"only the special ones...and you're really special!"

"way to ruin a mood" I huffed

"I'm joking Y/n/n, you just look hot below me ts'all" his hand held me tighter and he bent to reach my lips, he pressed hard humming into the feeling and sucked my bottom lip causing me to have to hold back any noise I threatened to make as I didn't want a repeat of earlier "I better get packing" he spoke pulling back creasing my cheek with his thumb leaving me with a unfulfilled feeling

"yeah.." I pouted, he looked back down at me and grinned

"god don't look at me like that... fuck- stop now, I've gotta pack" I stood with him as he turned to grab a tossed shirt from the floor, his hand glided down my thigh leaving a trail of goosebumps- he knew what he was doing, making me blush and shudder as his hand left me "oopsie"

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

we all sat backstage kicking our heals as the crowd arrived, but we also knew the crowd was special- our families were watching us tonight, I decided I'd wear a more appropriate outfit (not like my family hadn't seen pictures of me in mini-skirts and tube tops saying 'pouty') I looked alot like Tom, my baggy jeans hanging around my hips with a matching tank top to him "5 minuets!" a runner called making us all rise from our places

"excited?" Georg smiled shoving me lightly

"I can't wait" I spoke pinning around to the music that began, Bill looked back at me with a smile followed by a wink

"3...2...1" Felix called and Tom, Bill entered the stage erring a eruption from the crowd "go!" Georg and I walked on and smiled seeing the sea of fans watching us with grins plastering their faces and finally Gustav entered

"GOOD EVENING TRIER" Bill called holding the mic close "ARE YOU EXCITED!" though the lights were blinding I could make out the shapes of bodies from my place "ugh we have a show n' a half for you all tonight, and this show is very special to us- one, this is our last show here in the lovely Trier and- most importantly our biggest fans are here tonight" the lights moved to the box above the crowd and for the first time in weeks I saw them: mom, dad, Stella, the Kaulitz, Listing and Schäfer family, I nearly cried waving to them and blowing them kisses "so tonight is going to be the best show we've ever done guys! ARE YOU READY" I watched as my family cheered and little Stella clapped her hands. Tom's guitar began the start of Scream followed by Gustav and Bill ran back to main stage, the crowd danced and jumped along "SCREAM" they called back to us at every chorus making me laugh.

The night carried on and everything was going amazingly, and it came time for me to take centre stage, I brought my mic and herd people call my name "so- this is our newest piece of music, I originally wrote when I was in a very bad place, and as you all know I'm back up singer so usually I don't perform up here- so close to everyone so I'm a little nervous but.. but it means a lot to me so.. this is 'please don't jump'" claps filled the room and Tom joined me giving me a nod as he plucked away followed by Gustav and Georg, Bill was in the corner sipping a water watching me like a proud dad

I let my self get lost in the music, stomping my feet and twirling around "don't let memories go! of me and you" I sang watching my family stare in awe, I began up stage onto the platform where I stood teetering on the edge, all lights went off besides the one on me "PLEASE DON'T JUMP! DON'T JUMP, AND IF ALL THAT CAN'T HOLD YOU BACK, THEN I'LL JUMP FOR YOU" I finished bowing to the crowd who burst out with claps, screams and calls making me jump at the sudden noise

"Y/N Y/N Y/N!" people began to chant making me well up, Gustav ran up the platform steps holding my hand gently so I could get down the steps as it was tricky in platforms, hand in hand we met with Tom who smiled widely mouthing 'they're proud' I looked to see my mom whistling, soon the five of us stood at the tip of that walkway, people reached for us, calling us all over

"THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT!" we all shouted bowing once more as the light darkened, we all walked off and back to our room where there were drinks set out and towel "shit Im so thirsty" Georg spoke grabbing the bottle and cracking it open as we all took our first proper breath and relaxed

"erm- sorry I know you got off stage but someones hear" Gayle, my runner spoke holding the door open a little more

"BABA!" a small voice called, I looked down to see Stella dressed in a Tokio Hotel shirt and orange leggings running toward me, her blonde hair tied into piggy tails

"STELLA!" I cried falling to my knees pulling her into my arms "oh my god I missed you so much" I whispered into her neck, her bright eyes looked into mine and I couldn't let go of her, I pressed kisses to her chubby cheeks

"Oh my- Y/n dear! another voice came in and I snapped my head to see my mother, tear stained face reaching for me, I watched as Stella ran onto Gustav who picked her up hugging her tightly and I ran to my mom who was closely followed by the rest of our families "sunshine I missed you!"

"I missed you too mom" I cried as she stroked my hair away from my face, she let go and I turned to see my dad who had Tom in a bro-hug

"aww hello Poppy!" he spoke, I nearly fell apart hearing my nickname again, and he grabbed me into the hug "aw that was amazing kids" he spoke letting go of us, I stood speaking with them until I herd the voice of my sister

"Tommy!" she laughed and everyones faces snapped to her

"SHE SAID MY NAME!" The dreadheaded boy called lifting her into his arms and tickling her "ME BEFORE BILL!" he danced seeing her smile

"Hey! Stella I thought you liked me more!" Bill huffed squishing the cheeks of her face

"am I the better twin?...yeah! I know" Tom scoffed bouncing her on his hip, our families laughed and all began hugging each other

"darlings that show was fantastic and the crowd! I couldn't believe it" Simone, the twins mom smiled "I couldn't be more proud"

"thanks mom" Bill hugged pressing a kiss to her cheek "wait..erm hold on!" we all watched as the singer ran out calling for something, I turned to see Stella smiling and reaching for all the boys, Tom, Georg and Gustav were sat on the floor singing songs and twirling her around, the song finished and Stella did a bow making the boys laugh at her antics

"Baba!" the little blonde called reaching for me, Tom realised and quickly scooped her up so she was lying on her tummy with her arms out she began airplane sounds (but kept interrupting herself with her chuckles) "Brrrrrrrrr!" she grinned showing her two small teeth

"aww my baby airplane" I spoke reaching for her as Tom got closer, the two reached me and I took my sister from his arms spinning her while pressing a kiss to her cheek again "you're a very cute plane Stella"

"Plane!" she repeated getting a 'yeah a plane' from the guitarist who couldn't stop smiling

"Okay... everyone come stand over here were getting a photo!" Bill came back in grabbing his family, the line up was the Kaulitz' far left, then my family the Y/l/n's, then the Schäfer's and finally Listing's "We want a few!" Bill called to the person holding the camera

"1...2....3" everyone did a wide smile, even Stella knew what was going on "perfect, do you want another one of these then we can do different stuff like.. the point?" its like a lightbulb went off it the taller twins head

"okay yes... then the point, then serious faces, then one with us 5 a bit more infront of our families, then on chairs" he rambles while setting us all back out for the next 3000 photo's we'd be taking

I don't think I've ever herd the numbers 1,2 and 3 said so much in my life but after half an hour the pictures were finally done and in fairness they looked great "well we best get going" Christine, Georg's mom spoke grabbing her bag

"oh.." we began before Simone whispered something to her husband

"why don't you all come stay round ours? we can have a family night, drinks, games, food" me and the band cheered, quickly grabbing our stuff and getting ready to walk out- we knew that today being a day show, fans would be waiting for us- we decided the safest option was to give our families over to security along with our bags and walk out on our own

"okay Stella we'll see you in a little while okay?" I hugged her once more before giving her over to dad who was carrying her out, we waited till we knew they were in their cars and I came the time we'd be walking out, with one last check of the room we began outside, screams filled our ears, people threw flowers to us, cards, papers and... thongs- but we picked the flowers up. a few people grabbed at my clothing but besides that it was a safe 3 minuet walk from the building to the bus

"they were loud" Gustav spoke getting into his favourite seat, at the very back on the left "Georg come sit!" he called to the bassist who jumped through the seats, leaving Bill who liked sitting in the front then me and Tom sat in the middle two seats

"god I fucking loved that show" I spoke belting myself in, Tom did the same and our hands brushed- its not something that many would really worry about, it was an accident.. but I could help go hot at the feeling

"it was so good, I feel like we'll be in Felix's good books" the dreaded boy spoke getting a nod from the band, we finally began the drive home, it would only take around an hour and a half so I got myself comfy which meant me resting my legs over Tom- this was a normal thing as usually sometime around the trip we'd switch and I can accidentally put my cold drink on his legs while he's asleep definitely not making him yelp- no not at all...

"can you take my shoes off, you're closer" I spoke tapping his shoulder and with a huff he began unlacing the platforms, I sighed at the feeling of my feet going light and not having to lug those shoes around any more "thanks bab" I called leaning my head back, Tom got comfy to, scooting deeper into the seat and his hands lay on my legs drawing small shapes and humming a long to whatever song was on the radio

"wanna know something crazy?" He asked looking over at me to which I nodded "I haven't fucked a girl since Tuesday, and its Friday now" I pretend to be shocked, slapping my hands to my face

"holy shit! that is crazy!" he rolled his eyes "I can't even remember when I last fucked someone- probably around my birthday" I sighed slightly annoyed, not that I'm some sex freak who needs to be constantly fucked to live but... my birthday is in February and its now July

"damn... how do you go that long?" Georg spoke uncrossing his arms, being genuinely interested

"Notta clue... I-"

"Y/n I know whats in the back draw in your room" Bill turned showing a sinister smile

"Bill!" I called knowing exactly what he was on about

"ooo" the boys cooed making me go red, Bill laughed even harder pointing at my face "aww! she's embarrassed about her dil-"

"BILL SHUT IT!" I shouted flinging my empty water bottle at him making him cackle throwing his pillow at me

"IT'S BLACK!" He called and the 4 boys Burt out laughing again spluttering words and coughing at how much they were laughing

"oh my god you are all dicks!" I groaned trying to push myself as far back into my seat as I could, I even took my legs down from Tom who I could realised but I was way to embarrassed to give him a 'look'

┍━━━━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━━━━┑

"he traffic isn't moving so were going to be a little later to the Kaulitz" Gregory our driver spoke facing us

"ugh" we all collectively sighed, its been over 30 minuets of just stand-still traffic, cars horns went off but nothing was moving and being a warm day in a quite packed van it was getting hot

we'd moved past the dildo conversation thanks to Tom who made a fool of himself by spilling water all down his shirt- I did wonder though, was it on purpose? to take away the attention from me... but anyways whatever it was, or even just it was an accident- my legs were back on his and he continued to draw little shapes

"I'm going to sleep" Bill spoke looking back to which we gave a nod, by we I mean me and Tom as the other two fell asleep a few minuets back, the van sound turned quiet as the radio was turned off

"wanna play a game?" Tom spoke quietly

"sure, which game?" I asked seeing a little grin appear to his face

"erm... eye spy?"

#tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #00s #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz imagines #kaulitz twins #gustav schäfer #georg listing #bill kaulitz #Germany #🇩🇪 #scream #monsoon

[cerridwen007]

Candy Cane.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (afab)

Word count: 1.6 k (18+ MINORS DNI!)

Summary: Frankie can’t help but stare as you suck on that candy cane, very reminiscent of some of your other favourite things to suck on.

Notes/warnings: SMUT, fluff, Frankie being an adorable cheeky menace, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, inappropriate use of a candy cane, swearing, no y/n, probs bad spanish. ( Let me know anything else if I missed it)

A/N: Yall, it's been way too long since I last posted, and for that, I'm very sorry. Work has been exhausting me, and I've just lacked motivation to do much writing. So take this early, smutty Christmas fic as my apology. Honestly, I don't know how good it is/how well editied it is as I wrote it in less than 24 hours as the idea just came to me as I was sitting down eating a candy cane, much like reader. Wink wink. Also, this is my first Frankie fic I've posted, so yay for that. I've got a few wips in progress for this cutie, so be ready for that. Likes, comments, and reposts are always appreciated. I'll post this to my A03 soon, which is linked in my bio, if you prefer reading on that platform. Hope yall enjoy.❤️🫶

*********

Frankie couldn't help but let his jaw drop in awe of you unconsciously sucking on a candy cane very reminiscent of how you sucked his dick merely a few days ago. How you always sucked his dick so good, leaving him a pathetic whining mess. His dick was throbbing as he watched your delicate fingers hold the curved end, twisting it up and into your mouth while your mouth bobbed up and down.  An unbothered look on your face as you read your book, completely unaware of the effect you were having on your boyfriend sitting on the couch on the other side of the room from you.

Frankie can't help but groan a little,  just loud for you to hear as it escapes the back of his throat. You look over to the other side of the room, where he sits on the couch palming his hard length through his jeans; sports playing on the tv long forgotten, as he stares at you with glazed over, dark eyes. Your smile grows wide when you realise just how you had been affecting him with such a mindless innocent action. Your hand holding the candy cane drops, leaving only your teeth to uphold the fruity, striped stick. 

“You alright, sweetheart? You seem a little…distracted there.” You tease him as your eyelids droop to a flirtatious look.

He coughs a little before he answers, stumbling over his words. “Y-yeah, I'm doing real good, baby.”

You hum around the sweet confectionary, very reminiscent of a moan of pleasure, making sure to hollow your cheeks as the tart flavor hits your tongue.

“Wanna taste, baby? You're looking awfully desperate to have something sweet.” You say, holding the confectionary out to him, with your eyebrow raised.

He groans, squeezing his crotch, not managing to get out any words or approval other than an enthusiastic nod. You chuckle to yourself as you slowly get out of your seat and walk over to stand in front of Frankie. You lean down and place your hands on his knees, batting your eyelashes at him. One of your hands reaches up and twists the candy cane so the whole straight part disappears down your throat before it pulls it out again and you hold it out for Frankie to lick. He surprises you as he wraps his big hands around your back and hips and grabs you quickly to straddle his lap. 

“Frankie!” You giggle, taken off guard, leaving your smooth, sexy facade down for a second.

“Sorry, mi vida. Needed to have my sugar fix as close as possible.”

He kisses you with such fervour it takes you a moment to kiss him back, caught off guard as you both moan into the kiss.

You pull back with a smirk and hold out the candy cane again for him to suck. He grins as he takes the sweet treat into his mouth and groans, still tasting you in his mouth from the kiss and on the candy cane.

“Mmmh delicious sweetheart, but nothing will ever taste nearly as good or as sweet as you, mi amor.”

He twists his body again and throws you back onto the couch, causing you to fall into a fit of giggles.

He grins against your skin as kisses down your jaw, creating a path down your neck and collar, down between your breasts through your shirt. He shuffles down the couch, continuing to trace his lips down your body, slowly removing every bit of clothing that gets in the way of his lips tasting your skin. You can feel his hard cock throbbing against you as he slides his way down, matching the throbbing pulse of your clit. 

“Frankie…” you whine as he reaches your hips, pulling down your sweats slowly off your legs, tossing them somewhere on the floor. A devilish grin orderned on his beautiful face as he lowers his head, breathing in the scent of your arousal through your panties before biting the lacy fabric and moving them off you with his teeth. His hands are holding up your legs for better access as follows the curves of your calf. He tosses your panties to the ground and begins to plant soft kisses and bite down your raised legs all the way back down to your dripping heat.

Your face hurts from smiling as you watch Frankie show you his playful love and affection, he grins back at you and cups your face gently with one hand, to which you nuzzle into. He lowers his face back between your thighs and finally takes a firm lick up your folds, making you both moan. He has to reach down and palm himself through his uncomfortably tight jeans yet again  as he sucks your clit and licks into your oozing hole, muttering to himself about how good you taste. He reaches up to grab at your wrist and pin it into the couch before trying to grasp at what you're still holding; the candy cane. He looks up at you with dark eyes when his finger plucks it from your grasp and holds it to your mouth. 

You immediately suck it deep into your mouth before he can even ask. He growls before removing it from your red lips and dragging it down your body. He sucks it back into his mouth before running it back and forth through your folds, catching it deliciously on your clit every time, he watches in awe as your body shakes and squirms, telling of your impending orgasm as it reaches its peak.

“Come for me sweet girl.”

You become a babbling mess of incoherent swears as Frankie works you through your high. He fucks the candy cane into your cunt, following everwhere he traces it with his tongue, moaning at the sweet, delicious taste of you and the candy cane. He brings you to another high quickly after, enjoying another round of your sweet release hitting his tongue. Only stopping when you push his head away, pussy worn and oversensitive.

He kisses your inner thighs and works his way back up your body, licking up the sticky trail the candy cane left earlier, you grab both sides of his face and kiss him deeply, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue. You pull away after a few minutes to catch your breath and bite your lip. Pupils blown wide staring at the man that you love so deep with all of your being. You knew you just had to return the favour, especially because the thought of you sucking his cock started this whole thing in the first place. 

After littering his swollen lips and red face with soft kisses, you begin to sit up to change your position, pushing your hands firmly against Frankie's chest to push him back against the back of the couch before sliding down to your knees in front of him. His cock is aching, he whines a little as he watches you undo his belt and zipper, pulling his pants off in one go.

You palm him through his black boxers, the front covered in a pre-cum stain. You look up at his disheveled state through your eyelashes, your eyes blown wide with lust. He swallows harshly as you reach under the band of his underwear and pull out his hefty length. He watches you licking your lips from the last of the sweet residue coating them, your mouth watering from the salty flavor soon to be gracing your tongue.

You lean your head forward and let a big glob of spit drop onto the tip, quickly lubing him up with your hand and small slow strokes. Your lips envelope his furiously swollen tip, tongue twisting around the curves. His hand falls to your jaw, holding it softly, a plea to keep going, don't stop. His head falls, eyes squeezing shut before he forces himself to not miss anymore of the gorgeous sight of you before him on your knees.

Your other hand reaches out, playing with and lightly squeezing his balls. Your other hand tightens its grip around his girth, strokes growing faster. You pull your mouth off him, raising his cock up, so you can dip your head and lick up from the bottom of his length all the way back up to his head and through his slit. You mouth quickly attaches back onto him, sensing he is close by his mumbled praises, and his desperate “fuck”s that has you clenching your thighs together as the throbbing returns.

You turn your head to the side a bit so the tip of him is sticking out prominently through your reddened checks as you bob up and down on the tip. The sight combined with your sinful, moans causes Frankie to suddenly shoot his load into your mouth giving you little warning other than a loudly groaned “Fuck” as the salty cum fills your mouth. You make a show of swallowing till every drop is gone, licking your lips and then opening your mouth wide to show Frankie that you had indeed swallowed all it.

Through his post orgasim bliss, sweaty and heaving, he manages to reach down and give you a messy, sloppy kiss. The taste of both of your pleasures being exchanged between the both of you. You pull away and sigh deeply, letting some much needed air into your lungs, as you rest your head on his naked thigh, looking up at him lovingly. He caresses your check, affectionately. You both open your mouths at the same time to say that “you'll have to buy some more candy canes soon.” Making you both fall into a fit of laughs. It really was going to be a sweet holiday season.

***********

#smut #pedro pascal characters #frankie pussy eating king confirmed #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #triple frontier #francisco catfish morales #frankie catfish morales #francisco morales

[writeforfandoms]

Fall Into Me 8

Find the series masterlist

Gaz and Soap spend an evening trying not to worry. Gaz finds something unexpected on the coffee shop Monday morning.

Warnings: Swearing, antisemitism (instance of swastika being spraypainted on the building), not quite panic attack, Soap and Gaz gossip.

Word count: 2.1k

Eventual Rose x 141/Los Vaqueros. Eventual.

Gaz liked Soap, he really did. He just… liked Soap less when Soap followed him home.

Not that he was truly surprised anymore. Soap only spent half of his nights in his own apartment, claiming it was too quiet and infringing on everyone else’s spaces instead. 

(Apparently the last time Soap had shown up uninvited at Ale and Rudy’s apartment, though, Ale had sworn at him in Spanish for a solid minute before throwing a pillow in his face. Rudy still refused to translate everything, and Soap went an interesting shade of red whenever the subject came up.) 

Gaz had acquiesced with mostly good grace, especially since Soap paid for dinner from a little deli Gaz had never been to. 

Which is how the two ended up on Gaz’s couch, eating some of the best matzo ball soup Gaz had ever had and playing video games. 

“You have to go left,” Gaz pointed out, very helpfully if anybody asked him. 

“I know what I’m doing,” Soap muttered, hunching his shoulders. “Guess that explains how she knew about the deli.” 

“What?” Gaz blinked at the non-sequitur, and then smirked when Soap had to backtrack. “Told you to go left.” 

“Fuck off,” Soap grumbled without heat. “Rose. Jewish. Explains how she knew about the deli.” 

Gaz snorted. “I don’t think she knows every Jewish spot in the city just because she is, man.” 

Soap shrugged. “Dunno, she got a bit squirrely when we asked.” 

Gaz huffed, leaning back and balancing his soup in his lap. “Not everybody likes Jews,” he pointed out, reasonably enough. 

“I know that!” Soap growled softly when he had to backtrack again. 

“And she doesn’t know us well, yet.” Gaz ignored that little outburst. “Of course she’s being cautious. Can’t blame her.”

Soap didn’t respond for several moments. “D’ye think she’s been hurt before? Because of who she is.”

Gaz considered the question carefully and eventually shrugged. “Dunno. It’s hard to say. She hides a lot behind those smiles.” 

Soap grunted softly as he finally got his character back onto the farm and into bed. “Your turn.” 

Gaz took the remote and knocked his fist into Soap’s shoulder. “There’s still a lot we don’t know. Takes time to get to know someone. Just keep being you, she has fun with you.” 

“Course she does.” Soap grinned, leaning back to watch Gaz work on the farm. “How’d you get her number, anyway?”

“I asked.” Gaz preened a little. “She likes me.”

“Shove off.” Soap stuck his tongue out. 

“I could make you go home.”

“Good luck, this couch is mine.” 

Gaz was just debating pausing the game to tackle Soap off the couch when his phone pinged. He paused the game anyway but only to dig his phone out. 

“From Rose,” he muttered, for Soap’s benefit. “Says she’s… on her way home already?” 

“It’s just past 9,” Soap muttered, frowning. “She alright?”

Gaz was quick to text back, thanking her for letting him know and asking if she was alright. He ate more soup while he waited for a response. It was really good soup. 

I’m fine. Dinner ended early is all, no big deal. See you Monday!

Gaz turned his phone around so Soap could read it before Soap could do anything like try to wrestle the phone away from him.

“Dinner ended early,” Soap repeated blandly. “Sounds a bit fishy, aye?”

“Not our concern,” Gaz reminded him. “She’s basically telling us to back off.” 

Soap made a face but didn’t argue. “Hurry up and finish the day,” he grumbled. “I wanna see if I can catch that fish.” 

Gaz rolled his eyes but resumed the game. But he (and Soap) kept an eye on his phone, just in case of further texts. 

But he didn’t hear anything more from her all weekend. 

He got up early Monday morning, intending to help her out with the shop for the morning rush. Fortunately he didn’t live far from the office building (closer than everybody except Soap, actually) so it wasn’t a long walk. 

He stopped dead on the sidewalk outside the coffee shop. Someone had spraypainted a swastika on the outside of the shop, the black and white stark and ugly. 

“Rose!” He ran the last few steps to the door, tugging on it. Locked. But the lights were on. “Rose!” He knocked and then moved, searching for movement in the shop. 

Rose emerged from the back, pale and trembling, and unlocked the door for him. Gaz was quick to grab her shoulders, giving her a once-over. But she looked okay, just scared and shaky.

“Are you alright?” he asked, locking the door behind them and guiding her back again. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” She looked at the front window and shuddered, eyes closing in misery. “I already called building management, I’m waiting to hear back.” 

Gaz clenched his jaw for a moment. “I’m calling the Captain.”

“What? No! Why?” She shook her head rapidly, hair whipping around her head. 

“He might have access to the outside cameras, so he can find who did this.” Gaz shrugged as he pulled out his phone. 

“Don’t bother him so early.” Rose looked if anything more panicky, which was… the opposite of what he wanted. 

Slowly, he put his phone back away and pulled her into a hug. Her next inhale was shaky, and he hugged her harder even as he felt moisture on his shoulder. Her hands gripped the back of his shirt tightly, but she was remarkably quiet. If anything, that made his heart hurt more for her - that kind of quiet was learned. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally gasped, pulling away and wiping at her eyes. “I just–it was a long weekend and I didn’t get much sleep and I wasn’t expecting to see that and–”

“Easy,” Gaz murmured, tugging her over to a chair. “It’s alright, you’re alright. We’ll get that taken care of, yeah? You don’t have to worry about it.” 

Rose shook her head again, but she didn’t actually object, so Gaz called Price. But he stayed right next to Rose, one hand rubbing her shoulder. 

���Gaz,” Price answered, calm and even as always. “What’s going on?” 

“Someone spraypainted the outside of the coffee shop,” he reported immediately, squeezing Rose’s shoulder when her breathing hitched. “I’ve got Rose.” 

“Copy that, I can be there in ten.” 

“Rog. See you soon.” Gaz hung up. He had no idea how Price was going to manage getting here in ten minutes, but if there was one thing he knew about his Captain, it was that when he gave his word, he kept it. Price would be there in ten minutes, or less. “What can I get you, love?” 

Rose shrugged a little helplessly. “I don’t know. I haven’t…” Her gaze strayed to the window again and she swallowed hard. 

“Hey.” Gaz moved between her and the window, cupping her cheek to keep her from leaning around him. “You’re alright.” 

Rose shook her head again but didn’t elaborate further, just ducked her head. “I should be getting ready to open.” 

“I think people will understand if you don’t, today.” Gaz was going to hold his ground on this. Especially since he knew he’d have backup shortly. 

“No, I was already closed all weekend, I can’t…” Rose trailed off, visibly struggling. 

“This counts as extenuating circumstances, love.” Gaz swiped his thumb over her cheek, hating the wetness there, that this had upset her enough to cry over. “We’ll get it figured out, yeah?” 

Her next exhale was shaky, and for a moment Gaz was afraid she’d start crying again. But she just sniffled and nodded. 

“I have tissues in the back,” she muttered, getting to her feet again, more slowly than normal. She shuffled away from him. Gaz almost called her back or grabbed her or offered to do it for her, but he restrained himself. She needed a bit of time and space. At least she wouldn’t be able to see the spraypaint from the back. 

Gaz put his hands on his hips and briefly dropped his head. Poor thing - she needed a few more good hugs and some time to calm down. 

And they needed to figure out if this was a genuine threat or just some arsehole. 

Two pairs of boots approaching got Gaz to move, and he unlocked the door before Price could knock. Ale was with him, likely a coincidence, holding a small bundle of flowers. Both men looked furious, as Gaz expected. 

“Sitrep,” Price growled, taking a quick look around the store.

“Found that this morning,” Gaz said, locking the door again. “Rose is in the back, already contacted building management. Unknown motive.” 

Ale set the flowers down gently, lips set in a grim line. “Cameras?”

Gaz shrugged. “Don’t have access yet.” 

Price nodded once, gaze flitting about the store. “Is she staying closed today?” 

“No.” Rose stopped behind the counter. Her face was still a little blotchy, her eyes still a little red, but she looked steadier. She was certainly less pale. “I can’t.”

“You don’t know if that is a threat.” Price crossed his arms over his chest. 

“I doubt it. Most likely just someone thought they’d make an antisemitic statement.” She shrugged. “It’s awful, but it could be worse.”

“It could be worse is not reassuring, cariño,” Ale murmured, stepping closer to her to cup her shoulders. “We worry because we care for you and do not want to see you hurt.”

For a moment, her lip trembled. Then she breathed in slowly, smiling just a little. “I appreciate that. But I really can’t stay closed today.” Her gaze darted to the window darkened with spraypaint and the smile twisted into a grimace. “For one thing, I don’t want to be intimidated into closing. And for another… still have bills to pay.” 

Ale clucked and pulled her into a hug, tucking her easily under his chin. Watching the two of them, it struck Gaz how much smaller she was - she fit easily into Ale’s hold. Even Gaz had no problem tucking her into his shoulder when he wanted to. Smaller, soft, gentle. All the things that he’d been trying to protect in the world. 

Gaz clenched his jaw and looked away, only to find Price already watching him. The captain raised a single eyebrow: Alright? Gaz nodded once, determined. 

“Gaz will stay here today,” Price decided, watching as Rose pulled back a bit. “I’ll handle building management.”

“But–” Rose started to protest. 

“Your safety is more important,” Price interrupted, no-nonsense. “One of us will be here, we can work down here just as well as in the office. It’s not a problem. It’s not an imposition. Clear?” 

Rose made a complicated expression, an almost-smile paired with a little wiggle of her nose (and seriously, Gaz hadn’t thought she could get cuter) and some eyebrow acrobatics. Then she sighed and nodded. “Fine. Just. Don’t make anybody go out of their way because of this.”

Price huffed a laugh. “Darling, I’ll be lucky if they don’t all relocate down here,” he drawled. 

He had a point, Gaz had to admit. Rose blushed, though if it was the nickname or the rest of the sentence he couldn’t tell. Not for sure. But she was rallying quickly. 

“Fine,” she agreed. “But you will let me know the second you hear anything from management.” She narrowed her eyes a little at him, which was fair. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Price’s lips twitched with a barely repressed smile.

“Oh don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” she sassed. “Or I’ll start calling you Captain.”

Gaz just caught Price’s reaction, watching heat flare and be suppressed in a fraction of a second. Oh. Now that was new. 

Ale, fortunately, distracted her with another hug, murmuring something to her too low for Gaz to hear. Gaz took the opportunity to step closer to his Captain. 

“Standard check ins?”

“Yes.” Price didn’t look away from the two for another long moment before those blue eyes focused on Gaz. “I’ll keep you updated on my end.”

“Rog.” Gaz nodded once and slipped back behind the counter to grab the spare apron again. He paused outside the tiny office - he’d peeked inside before, of course, enough to see that there was barely enough room for Rose to get any kind of work done. Today there was a bright-colored bag sitting on the desk chair, and he could just see yarn poking out the top. 

He walked away, because if he thought about this too much, thought about Rose coming into work happy and looking forward to sharing her knitting, he’d go hunt the bastard down himself. 

“Where do we start?” he asked brightly, smiling at Rose.

#fall into me #f!oc #poly au #poly vibes

[atpsnty]

┊𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

xavier thorpe ; wednesday

pairing: xavier thorpe x hispanic!normie!fem!reader

warnings: light swearing, overpowered fluff, dramatic teens 

request: pt.2 to the small encounters (can be read as standalone, though there are a few references to pt.1)

summary: you’ve leveled up from the accidental run-ins with Xavier

a/n: due to the reader being hispanic, there are a few character descriptions to get that across: mention of hispanic food & a bit of spanish dialogue.

character credit: wednesday series

w/c: 2k

For a little while longer, you stare out the window. People watching has always been one of your favorite activities, so you can’t help but analyze the passerby as they make their way across the various Pilgrim World attractions.

You sip your hot chocolate as you do so, your thumb unknowingly running across the numbers that the no longer mystery boy has written along the cup sleeve. You have yet to enter the digits into your phone, signifying the act of adding Xavier into your contact list. You have never seen someone act so bold, yet alone someone you can’t seem to keep your eyes off of.

Does he wanna be friends?

Is he interested in you?

Are you interested in him?

For the next hour or so you interchange these actions: gazing outside, doing a bit of homework, and trying your fucking best not to stare at Xavier as he dances around your table, wiping off other surfaces and interacting with the flow of Weathervane customers. You peek at him a few – too many – times, taking in the newfound persona that comes with your long awaited introductions.

Introductions…

“Cielos, ni siquiera le dije mi nombre,” you sigh quietly to yourself, “who taught me how to interact with people?”

You rest your forehead on the table beside your laptop, contemplating whether or not you should abandon all hope of progressing this new…friendship? You were sure that after Xavier realizes your lack in basic social skills and not-so-cool stature, the boy would probably move on to one of the other hundreds of girls you’re positive are fawning over him back at the academy.

“Is everything alright?”

Once again, the long-haired Nevermore boy has impeccable timing.

“Bell…”

“Hm?” He tilts his head as he eyes you with a questioning gaze.

“A bell,” you sigh and lift your head, “I’m going to buy you one so I have time to mentally prepare myself when you’re around,” you mumble, though loudly enough that he could hear every syllable. Losing the look of defeat etched across your face, you swiftly smile up at the boy towering over your hunched frame.

“Yes, everything is alright Xavier.”

He chuckles softly, acknowledging the fact that you called him by his name for the first time, before lightly shaking his head and walking off.

‘Can we circle back around to the Mother Teresa possibility, because there’s no way’ you think as you cross your arms along the table and drop your head back down with a groan.

–

Once deciding that the probability of you embarrassing yourself once more was higher than the probability of you having a normal evening while in Xavier’s presence, you decide to take a walk around the grounds.

Like you said before, you didn’t really enjoy learning about white heritage and the different flavors of fudge, but you would rather that than ruin whatever you have with Xavier before it even starts.

You visit a few of the Pilgrim World…attractions? They weren’t really attracting to you per se. After so many years the supposed “community event” is repetitive, and you swear the aura around the whole thing gets gloomier every year. 

While wandering, you see various Nevermore students. Growing up in such a town, you’ve learned the different types of beings that live behind the school’s old walls, and you’ve gotten rather good at guessing who is what; a sort of special edition of your people watching interest.

There are two girls in pilgrim costumes: one with blacked out circular sunglasses balancing on the ridge of her nose, most likely a vampire, and another dark skinned girl with super bright eyes, who’s so alluring that you’re positive she’s a siren. You see a girl and boy together through the window of the town antique shop. The lumpy beanie covering the guy’s head makes it pretty obvious he’s a gorgon, but the girl doesn’t seem to give off any of the major power/creature stereotypes. You sit and ponder it for a minute, glancing at her colorful hair and bright nails, before taking the loss and continuing on. 

You’re walking past the old pillories when you spot the same dark-haired girl from earlier, noticing that she’s wearing the black-clothed pilgrim get-up.

‘It oddly compliments her,’ you think as you watch her wipe down the shirt of a nerdy looking boy. She doesn’t look like the type to do the whole “helping hand” thing, so it’s quite intriguing to say the least.

You find out from one of your classmates who’s working that the jobs are divided into two separate shifts, one of them ending in about thirty minutes. You chat for a bit before making your way back to the cafe.

‘I definitely should not be doing this.’

–

You’ve been sitting on a bench outside of Weathervane, wondering whether you should actually go inside or just stay out here.

What you wanted to do was ask Xavier to walk around after his shift. This seemed like the perfect place to hang out for the first time: entertainment, food, things to talk about, and other people.

Heavy on other people. The more people around, the less likely you were to embarrass yourself…again…for like the fifth time.

‘If I go inside, I’ll probably end up blabbering about why I left, just to come back not even 2 hours later. If I stay outside, he’ll probably think I’m a creep who’s been peeping through the windows.’

Decisions, decisions.

‘Or option 3, I get up right now and pretend I was never here…yeah imma go with that one.’ You grab your bag and small pouch of fudge that you purchased – you said you didn’t like learning about it, not that it wasn’t delicious – and walk right past the door just as it opens.

“Funny seeing you here.”

You stop in your tracks, scrunching your face in a “the world hates me” type of manner before turning around.

“Oh yeah. I was just in the neighborhood. Small town, you know?” You shift back and forth on your feet as you come face to face with your outcast acquaintance for the first time, both of you standing at your full heights. “Gosh, you’re tall.”

“So I’ve been told,” he chuckles before nudging towards your bag of fudge, “I see you went exploring…find anything interesting?”

“Nope, pretty much the same as every year. Dead white guys, how dead white guys used to treat people slightly differently than them, and fudge that could probably give a small village their needed sugar intake,” you say and jostle the bag, “though I will admit my tia’s flan could do just about the same.” 

He laughs, and all you could think about is how good of an alarm it would be.

‘Totally creepy Y/N, knock it off.’

You catch sight of the girl with the colorful hair just behind Xavier, and once again wonder what her whole ordeal is.

“Hey, so totally random,” you start and point your finger in the girl’s general direction, “you know people from your school right? Do you think you could tell me what her power is? The girl who looks like she’d eat cotton candy for its nutritional value.”

He turns around, glimpsing at the girl.

“That’s Enid. She’s a werewolf I believe. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I was just guessing everyone’s abilities while walking around earlier and could not guess hers for the life of me.” You announce dramatically before smiling, noticing he’s smirking right back at you.

“Guessing abilities huh? Okay then, let’s see what you’ve got.” He makes a sweeping gesture towards the crowd mixed with normies and outcasts.

“Okay bet.”

–

After that, the flow of conversation becomes easy. 

You start off with the ability guessing game, before making your way onto various topics ranging from the pilgrim world exhibits to a storytime about how you once got detention for eating flan in class.

“It wasn’t my fault! If anything, it was my teacher’s fault for making the class stay back 10 minutes from lunch because someone else was talking,” you exasperate, “I wouldn’t have had to eat it in class if I was given my allotted meal time.”

It seems as though the entire time, Xavier is staring at you. I mean yeah you’re having a conversation, and that would be proper etiquette, but still. He wasn’t just looking at you because you guys were talking, but he was actually attentive; taking in what you’re saying and staying engaged.

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve mentioned this flan. I might just have to try it one day.”

You smile up at him, feeling your face heat up at the simple fact that he has been listening to you this whole time. With how much you guys were talking, you hardly noticed how long you’ve been walking around.

“Do you wanna sit down for a bit? I think we’ve learned about every dead white guy who’s ever lived here,” he smiles softly and raises his eyebrows towards the same bench you were panicking on not too long ago.

‘Ay, it’s like he can read my mind. Literally what is happening right now.’

You take your previous seat, and he follows, sitting beside you. You glance around Pilgrim World, the crowds starting to dissipate as the day passes.

“You never guessed what my ability was,” Xavier says, looking straight ahead.

“I’m not really sure to be honest. I don’t think you transform into anything, and I’m sure you can’t read minds,” and you thank Jesus for that. “I’m thinking more of a physical ability. Maybe something creative? You have this whole…lone wolf artsy guy type of vibe going on,” you say and gesture towards him.

He’s silent for a moment. 

‘Oh shit did I say something wrong?’

“It’s so easy to tell when you're internally panicking,” he drops his head with a chuckle before looking back at you, “you’re right though.”

“That wasn’t funny Xavier.” You push him with your shoulder and giggle a bit.

He raises his hands in a surrendering gesture before continuing.

“My bad, it’s just funny to see you all riled up and flustered.”

“Funny…” you say and side-eye him.

“Adorable, actually.”

Your face heats up.

“Anyways…so you’re into art? I remember seeing you at the store a few weeks ago and it looked like you were buying art supplies.”

“Surprised you could tell. You know, with you hiding behind your computer and everything.”

You give him a straight stare.

He lightly puffs out air before continuing with a grin, “I dabble in art a bit. I can sorta make my drawings move a bit? Like an animation sort of. It’s hard to explain.”

“You should show me sometime,” you say with no hesitation or regret. Hey, there’s a first time for everything.

He gives you a small nod and a “oh yeah, for sure” before glancing to the side. All the Nevermore students are starting to get together to leave back to campus.

You both stand and start taking slow steps towards the group. Xavier stops when you’re still a few feet away from everyone else and faces you.

“Text me, yeah? I wanna have your number so we can keep talking without having to randomly run into each other.”

You nod and wave him off, your cheeks left hurting from smiling for hours. You grab your phone from your back pocket, along with the cup sleeve that has the phone number written across it. You punch in the number, create a contact, and type a small message.

Sent

–

Xavier’s POV 

I’m sitting in the back of the bus; glancing out the window as we drive past the town buildings, heading towards the forestry marking our descent to the academy. It’s only been a few minutes since I’ve left Pilgrim World when my phone vibrates in my lap: a message from an unknown number.

‘You know what sounds fantastic right now…flan - Y/N’

I chuckle quietly to myself, adding Y/N to my contacts before looking back out the window with a content sigh.

This is so much worse then the first one (I cannot do dialogue oml)...also I take it back I’m not gonna do a taglist bcs I realized how tiring it is to keep track of those once they get longer (but I tagged the few who asked already). 

If I end up making a part 3, it will include the confession!

I no longer support Percy Hynes White and will no longer take request for Xavier Thorpe.

taglist (not open,, will be deleting)

@betray-jaes @moatsnow @godess-of-mist @l4venderia @gengen64 @rayliz793 @honey-with-tea​ 

#xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday show #xavier thorpe x you #y/n #fem!reader #ff #imagine #oneshot #escapism #x reader #atpsnty #fanfiction #drabble #xavier thorpe oneshot #hispanic!reader

[deeptrashwitch]

Another snippet! @stuffireadandenjoy @snootlestheangel @tapioca-milktea1978 this time is a bit of AliciaxAlejandro fluff! Alejandro's sweet gesture with his girlfriend! I...hope I did it right, the romance isn't my favorite genre to write about. Anyway, enjoy it!

Alicia was again inside her office, sighing before leaving and look for a cup of coffee. While she was on the kitchen, her boys walked inside with Alexander carrying a package, and he left it over the table. For a second they all looked the package, then they looked at Alicia, and then again the package.

"What?" she asked, drinking her coffee

"This arrived for you" Luke murmured, confused "it's weird"

"Maybe is my brother's or my sister's"

When she went to open the package, a smile appeared as the content of it revealed itself. Food, drinks, candies, crochet flowers and even some books, all that make her smile, mostly when she noticed the hand made plushie. Alicia had to cover her face, trying not to laugh, while she blushed.

And the ten Specters also looked, more as a gossip, just to be surprised by all the romantic thing inside. Soon Francis noticed a note, taking it to read it while the rest discussed who could have send it.

"Uh, Captain...who's Alejandro?" the younger SEAL asked, while Luke choked with his tea behind

"The Colonel?!" the Lieutenant asked, surprised, looking at his Captain

"...Yes, the Colonel" she said, rolling her eyes "why do you sound so surprised?"

"Is he trying to make you fall in love with him?!"

"WHAT?!" all of them shouted at unison

"No, no, no, that can't be" Marcus said a bit more calm "maybe he asked her for a favor or something. Maybe to deliver this...Francis, what the note says?"

"It's in spanish" said the cartographer

"Give me that" Noah murmured before started reading "oh shit, he actually wants to make the Captain to fall in love with him. This is just sweet, that 'I love you and I wanna marry you' kind of sweet"

"...Alright, let's commit a crime" Jackson said with a tick on his eye

"I agree, Elijah can tell us when he's near!" Elliot said as he sat down

"Mmm, yeah, sure" Elijah murmured with a little smile

While that happened, Alicia was wheezing on the background, trying not to laugh. She took the package and left in silence, going to Wraith's office, where she started to laugh while Dominique looked at her. A couple of minutes later, both of them were talking with her drinks in the middle.

"So Alejandro sent you this?" Wraith asked

"Yeah, and those ten saw it and read the note" Alicia answered with a chuckle

"Ohh, should I be prepared for a problem between them and Los Vaqueros?"

"Uhh, maybe"

"This only happens here, I swear"

"Yeah, but whatever, do you want some candies?"

"...You know me so well"

Alicia gave her some candies, and then took the little jaguar plushie, smiling as she called Alejandro. He didn't answer, so she called Rodolfo instead, who answered after the third tone. She put the call on speaker as she took out the rest of the things, hearing Wraith gasp surprised at the flowers and muttering about how disgustingly sweet all that was.

"¿Capitana?" he asked, a bit confused

"Hola Rodolfo, lamento llamar ahora, ¿Alejandro está por ahí?" she questioned with a little smile (Hi Rodolfo, sorry for calling now, is Alejandro over there?)

"¿Alejandro? No, acaba de salir a resolver un tema con pandillas" (Alejandro? No, he just went out to lead with some gangs)

"Pandillas, ¿antiguos socios de Valeria?" (Gangs, Valeria's old partners?)

"Aún no estamos seguros" (We're not sure yet)

"Ya veo" (I see)

"¿Para qué necesitaba al Coronel, Capitana?" (Why did you need the Colonel, Captain?"

"Necesitaba hablar con él de algo personal" (I need to talk about something personal with him)

"El paquete, ¿verdad?" (The package, right?)

"...What did he do?" she muttered with a sigh

"He asked me to tell you that he did everything from scratch" he said also sighing

"But as far as I know, he doesn't know..." Alicia murmured before shutting up and palming her face "he bothered Hernández, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did...the poor bastard is tired of leading with him"

"Christ...just, just tell Alejandro to call me when he's back and forbid him to bother his own soldiers"

"Will do"

"Thank you and sorry again"

They hang up and Alicia grabbed a drink, looking at the package again, just smiling silently. She looked away when she felt the heat crippling to her face, thinking how Alejandro took the time to learn and do all that. Dominique smirked when she noticed Alicia like that, but didn't say anything, just took another candy.

"What should I gift him?" Alicia muttered, making Wraith to look at her again

"Maybe a watch or a necklace?" Wraith suggested

"Hmm, nah, he doesn't really uses it" she said before smiling a bit "I know, I'll make him an agenda and maybe something else"

"Make? Christ, you two are the 'she fell first and he fell harder' trope! I never saw you like that!"

"Shut up"

"Alright, but I'm happy you're getting somehow stability"

Meanwhile, down the stairs, the team was arguing. About what? Easy, they were discussing about which rifle would be better to use if Alejandro Vargas dared to even try to go there. And Jackson was one of the most vocals along with Luke, while Edward just chuckled, now understanding some of Alicia's behaviors time after they met.

#ocs #oc #call of duty #cod oc #team charlie #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #alejandro vargas x oc #alejandro cod #alejandro vargas #snippet #snippets

[incorrectcoldflashblog]

Sooooo...is it too much to ask for your answers to all of the questions on the ask list about your country?? (I hope you will say no and tell me to select a handful, if that's what you prefer.)

Sorry, sorry, I totally meant to do this faster but that was a lot of questions, haha. Putting this under a read more because it got LONG.

1.) favourite place in your country?

Honestly there are a lot of beautiful places in France, but a personal favorite would be Biarritz, near the Spanish border. My whole extended family used to vacation there when I was a kid.

2.) do you prefer spending your holidays in your country or travel abroad?

Given the choice I’d prefer to travel abroad.

3.) does your country have access to sea?

Yes, via the English channel, the Atlantic and the Mediterranean sea.

4.) favourite dish specific for your country?

La blanquette de veau, a dish that was originally from Normandy :)

5.) favourite song in your native language?

Nooo, don’t do this to me. I hate picking favorites. I’ll just share one that has some personal significance for me and not call it my favorite ;)

6.) most hated song in your native language?

I don’t know that I really hate that many songs, but on a personal level I definitely never wanna hear Jusqu’ici tout va bien by Gims again as long as I live. It’s the theme song to a show my roommate watches every evening (which means I have to hear it Every.Day.) and it irks me that the title is a reference to one of the best scenes from my favorite movie when the song itself is so annoying. But maybe I just feel that way because I have to hear it so, so often.

7.) three words from your native language that you like the most?

Clair-obscur (chiaroscuro), l’engrenage (an ineluctable series of events) and it’s technically two words but l’amitié amoureuse. The literal translation would be ’friendship in love’ but it’s not actually a romantic love, it just describes basically having an intense but platonic crush on your friend. It’s one of my favorite concepts in the French language.

8.) do you get confused with other nationalities? if so, which ones and by whom?

No, we don’t, for better or for worse France is very uniquely French, lol.

9.) which of your neighbouring countries would you like to visit most/know best?

The one I know best is probably Switzerland, just because my great-uncle lived in Lausanne and we visited him a few times when he was still alive. Fun fact, he ran away to Switzerland after having an affair with a married woman because her husband threatened to kill him, lol.

The one I’d like to visit most is Italy, just because that’s where part of my family is from (from Parma) and I’ve never been.

10.) most enjoyable swear word in your native language?

Putain, which I use approximately 500 times a day XD

11.) favourite native writer/poet?

Listen, how am I meant to pick just one when there are so many??

Classic literature: Gustave Flaubert

Contemporary writer: Marie Ndiaye

Favorite poet: maybe Marguerite Yourcenar? Although my favorite poem might be L’Irréparable by Charles Baudelaire.

You didn’t ask but my favorite play is Le Cid by Corneille. Romeo and Juliet wishes XD

12.) what do you think about English translations of your favourite native prose/poem?

I think there’s just always something missing in translation tbh.

13.) does your country (or family) have any specific superstitions or traditions that might seem strange to outsiders?

I mean, I know outsiders often comment on the fact that French people kiss each other on the cheek to say hello (se faire la bise) but I don’t know if that counts as a strange tradition.

14.) do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or TV?

Ehh, to me French cinema/TV is divided in two categories, really fucking good and really fucking awful, haha, there’s pretty much no in-between. A bad movie is called a navet (a turnip) by the way^^

15.) a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

There’s a lot of jokes and memes that originated from the tv show Kaamelott that are going to be hard to decipher for people who haven’t seen it. Here’s one I think you’ll enjoy:

16.) which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

The one I agree with is that French people complain all the time because we really, really do, haha. I don’t agree with the stereotype that French people are lazy though, we just don’t live to work but why are we acting like it’s a bad thing?? I don’t know, there are a lot of negative stereotypes about French people but tbh at the end of the day I don’t really care that much.

17.) are you interested in your country’s history?

Sure, it’s definitely interesting, but there’s so much of it it can be a little intimidating.

18.) do you speak with a dialect of your native language?

Nope.

19.) do you like your country’s flag and/or emblem? what about the national anthem?

Our emblem is le coq (the rooster), which you only see on the French team’s shirts, just like you’re most likely to see the flag when there’s a World Cup. It’s fine I guess, I don’t really have an opinion on it.

Our national anthem is kind of problématique but it does go hard. I’ll give it that. Like, if you’ve ever watched that scene from Casablanca where they sing La Marseillaise you’ll understand what I mean by that.

20.) which sport is The Sport in your country?

Mbappé Soccer :)

21.) if you could send two things from your country into space, what would they be?

I’ve been puzzling over this question for weeks, haha, and I’m still not sure what it means, like? Do you mean annoying people I’d launch into space or XD

22.) what makes you proud about your country? what makes you ashamed?

I don’t have a lot of national pride tbh. I’m ashamed about a lot of the public discourse, the islamophobia, the state violence, the way Nicolas Sarkozy and the media brought far-right talking points into the mainstream and now we’re all swimming in their shit.

I’m proud to know that French people are always ready to burn shit down though.

23.) which alcoholic beverage is the favoured one in your country?

According to Google it’s beer. I would’ve probably said wine.

24.) what other nation is joked about most often in your country?

Probably Belgium. There’s lots of belgian jokes.

25.) would you like to come from another place, be born in another country?

I don’t really think about stuff like that. Every country has its own issues, so it is what it is.

26.) does your nationality get portrayed in Hollywood/American media? what do you think about the portrayal?

Oh boy, does it ever. Every time a new season of Emily in Paris comes out you can bet French Twitter is gonna have a field day over this shit XD

27.) favourite national celebrity?

When you say national celebrity my first thought immediately goes to Jean-Jacques Goldman. Amazing songwriter, but also very well-known for his work with the Restos du Cœur, a French charity that was founded by his friend the comedian Coluche and les Restos famously do more for the poor than our own government ever would. Probably why Goldman gets elected personnalité préférée des Français every other year. (He also pays his taxes in France, unlike some people, and we always appreciate that here.)

28.) does your country have a lot of lakes, mountains, rivers? do you have favourites?

It does. I think the most famous are the river Seine, the Mont-Blanc (although that crosses over into Italy) and as far as lakes go I’m sure there are a lot but I can’t think of a really well-known one.

29.) does your region/city have a beef with another place in your country?

My city does have beef with another city, but I won’t say which for privacy reasons ;)

30.) do you have people of different nationalities in your family?

My paternal grandmother was from Laos and my paternal grandfather’s family immigrated from Italy (not him directly, but his mother). I think there’s some German (well, Prussian) and Flemish on my mother’s side. My aunt’s husband is also from Italy, and my eldest brother’s wife is from Madagascar. I think that’s all :)

Thank you so much for asking, friend, I can only hope I didn’t totally bore you to death XD

“Hi, I’m not from the US” ask set

[chessalein]

Another AU with Jackie and Nori

What probably no one knows is, that in my little head, there is an alternate Universe where Jackie's and Nori's meeting is way less sad and dramatic.

In this Universe, Nori moved recently to NC to live with her friend Maya (she calles her sometimes Bee because of "Biene Maja/The adventures of Maya the Bee", some people noticed and think her nickname is "B". She is a merc.).

They live in a two-bedroom apartment somewhere in Heywood, becaue Maya thought it might be much saver than the other places for her friend that isn't used to this hellhole of a City. Their apartment has a balcony that goes into an alley, maybe even a little courtyard. And sometimes she would just sit on this balcony and read her books or draws into the night. Its a cute little place she made cozy for her. Fairylights, flowers, cute table and chairs and what not.

So some night when she gets her stuff to get ready to chill the heck out of the night, she hears someone blubbing around, swearing in spanish and not sounding like they had a good time. When she looked down, she sees a man who seemed to need to sit down because he isn't able to stand anymore.

Maya told Nori "Don't bring ever of these druged junkies that sometimes walk through down there into our apartment. I don't want to come home and have to scratch your organs from the wall. I mean it!"

Of course Nori doesen't want to have this poor person down there killed by someone that would mugg him and then decorate the streets with their organs. So she does the only thing she could do.

She yells down to him and asks him if he is drunk or high. Jackie was confused as heck because he was so drunk he wasn't even sure if the voice he just heard came from his head or a real person.

After getting him to look up, he asks her in his flirty tone "Why ? because you wanna come down to me?" She is like "Yea. But it depends if you are drunk or high"

He tells her that he is "very very very very very veeeeery.... uh... drunk!"

Drunk. Not high. Means its okay. (She knows its still not very smart to do but she wants to help so...yea)

So she comes down to him with a glass of water and a cup of coffe to give him some. She noticed that its working, but not that good so she tells him that he has the choice between: she calling him a taxi so he could go home, or he comes up to her place where he could sleep for the night and to sober up.

Jackie who is a smartypants is like "yea but... how do I know that you don't kill me and sell my organs" to a woman who only reaches to his shoulders and who he could shoot to the moon with one good slap. But he is right (Children, never go with people you don't know) and she points out all these things and explains to him why she wants to help and he likes that. So he comes up with her. She makes him coffee and gives him food that would cancel out the alcohol a bit, they talk more and soon she goes to bed, he sleeps on the couch and its fine.

The next day he hears Nori and another woman argue in the kitchen.

"What if he was high!?"

"Don't worry. I checkted that before I went downstairs."

"You did? How?"

"I asked him." And Nori says that with a very proud face because she thinks that was a super smart move.

Jackie joins them, Maya tells him that he can be lucky that he is THE Jackie Fucking Welles one of the legends of NC (yea, in my AU he will be a legend of NC no matter what, because he deserves it) because otherwhise he would have a pistol in his mouth the moment he wakes up.

But, lucky them, they all get along niceley, he gets Maya, he appriciates Nori who wants to do good for the people and after an awesome breakfast and more friendlyness from the two nice woman, he goes home. Sometimes when he comes by that little alley, he lookes if Nori is outside and if she is, they would talk over the balcony. He knows he could come up if he asked, but he kind of liked that stopping by to chat a bit and then be on his way. It was like a little powerbank loadup.

At some point Maya got Nori to join her clubbing. They have the deal that Nori would come out of her shell once a month and they go somewhere under people but not where THAT many people are. So they go to this small club not manny know of and stuff goes wrong. Someone must have put something into Noris drink, Maya isn't anywhere to be found and wouldn't pick up her phone. So Nori calls the only person she knows in NC that she could trust: Jackie.

He is there in like 10 Minutes from the other side of the city, picks her up, let Vik Check her through to see whats going on. They find out that they hand stuff out in this club without people knowing and that isn't THAT bad, but Nori seems to be alergic to it or at least of stuff thats in it.

The next morning she wakes up in Jackies huge villa he build for his Fam. Maya calls back Jackies number because she had no idea where Nori is and was already afraid that it could be someone from the hospital. He tells her all that happend, tuns out that Maya had a geat time beeing high and absolutley forget about bringing Nori while beeing high. Thinking she is save at home because Nori doesen't like clubs and all. Of course Maya is super thankful that Jackie helped her out, and that she picks her up as soon as she feels like its okay to drive.

When Maya comes to Jackies place of course she is like "WOW" because its a very cool place. Jackie, Nori, Valerie and Vik are using the pool when she arrives. And when Jackie brings her to the pool she is like:

"Why do I have the feeling like I'm a mom that picks up her child from her way cooler, divorced dad?"

Yea, thats kind of how far it goes in my head till now.

Not that dramatic, all are happy, all are good. Maybe I need this to balance out what will come in my story. I don't know.

I really like Maya, she is such an amazing friend who tries her best to look out for her friend thats in this city because of her, and wants to build this save space for her without keeping her in a cage. Slowly getting her used to the city and the darkness of it.

Just kind of wanted to share it with you all :) Thought you might like it.

#Storytime with Chessa #Alternate universe #Cyberpunk2077 thoughts

[smaradog]

time for an introduction

hello! im smaradog but you can call me smara or mar for short, i have a weird sense of humor that feels edgy but i dont do jokes that are at anyones expense, or say weird things, since its not really something thats part of me at all, making others feel bad and/or uncomfortable is against all i stand for, at the same time my humor can kinda be silly/catgirlesque for lack of better description?? (??? ihave no idea what im saying) and kinda fecalfunny style humor overall.

dni if youre a bigot or a terf or some stupid shit like that

anyways im a neurodivergent asexual trans girl (she/her, it/its fae/faer, sli/slime pronouns please!) who speaks spanish and stuff idunno!! (i am not from spain dont pile me on with them IHATE SPAIN!!!! /j)

so yeah i draw a lot of lesbians and whatever else comes to mind

[art tag!]

i WILL start talking about something im working on or something i like for WHOLE PARAGRAPHS so be WARNED!! and heres some insane things i do!

the insane things i do in question:

art (digital and traditional)

pixel art

sound design

3d modeling (learning the basics)

music (regular music and chiptunes, and whatever weird experimental thing i can make also it kinda sucks but shh)

storyboards

modding/romhacking games

kind of a jack of all trades really! so yeah thats basically it! have a list of me dumping like a million interests i have

music: the strokes, arctic monkeys, gorillaz, daft punk, indigo quest, red vox, muse, crx, albert hammond jr., royal blood, enjambre, bandalos chinos, comisario pantera, lemon demon, tally hall, the voidz, fish in a birdcage, nelward

chiptune (counting psg chips, fm chips, low quality samplers, etc.) [fade, tim follin, jeroen tel, squarewave, shoob2000, 4mat, rushjet1]

animated shows:

the owl house

amphibia

ena

one piece (at enies lobby arc rn)

yu yu hakusho

jojos bizarre adventure (i cant deny it even if i dont talk about it, stopped at part 5)

one punch man (kinda, dont remember a lot)

adventure time (havent kept up since grass sword episodes)

ok ko (literally dont remember what the last thing that happened was)

regular show (stopped keeping up at some point) showing interest in: gravity falls, infinity train, hunter x hunter and mob psycho

films:

literally any spiderman movie from anything 2002 - now (i know theres older obscure ones)

(cant think of anything else whoops)

games:

terraria

halo (anything pre 343 sorry)

castlevania series

bloodstained

undertale/deltarune

omori (kinda lost interest)

doom (classic series, havent played 2016 and eternal)

half life series

sonic series

mega man series (classic)

minecraft (kind of? i'd rather play beta 1.7.3, but especially a fan of better than adventure)

celeste (havent finished, one of the few insane people that didnt use assist mode at the hotel chapter)

umjammer lammy

parappa series

castle crashers & battleblock theater

serious sam series

splatoon series (havent played splatoon 3)

dont starve together (i dont play often and im not super familiar with the lore) night in the woods (looks nice but. didnt finish at ALL)

portal series (i 100%ed the first game)

streamers:

vargskelethor joel (probably on top along with jerma)

vinesauce vinny

jerma985

grayfruit (i watch sometimes)

simpleflips (i watch very rarely)

i also like a few webcomics but honestly i dont remember at the time of making somehow, you can ask me about one of them though! (its not homestuck i swear /gen)

i ALSO also have super weird interests over niche little 80s - 2000s technology and stuff

due to personal reasons, i have 3 things i dont wanna hear about, but im not gonna mention them on this post.

if you made it this far reading you are insane honestly but shoutouts to you

#introduction #introductory post #artists on tumblr #pixel art #modding #sound design #i have no idea if i should be tagging this with interests but whatever main ones GO #vinesauce #vargskelethor #jerma #jerma985 #terraria #halo #castlevania #doom #portal #the owl house #toh #amphibia #one piece #megaman #deltarune #the strokes #arctic monkeys #daft punk #lemon demon #red vox #spiderman #spider man #ena

[itsbaku]

Every Single Thing in Souls of War with Meaning

Because I'm insane and this is basically a love letter to everyone who wants to learn more about my lore

(Quick thank you to @git-it for being so invested in my lore to the point where it makes me motivated to work on this stuff. Thank you man, I don't know why you love it so much, but it means a lot 💗💗💗)

Btw this has a ton of spoilers for the books, but let's be honest here. This is free lore and if you wanna know about the Souls of War franchise, read this.

First the characters(Who mainly represent aspects of being a teenager)-

Baku- Represents mental illness and issues with mentality. They are shown to struggle with themself and deals with a lot of trauma.

Camazotz- Represents being optimistic and always seeing the good in life. Managing how to live life even though it is filled with bad, and still accepting those bads.

Mischief- Represents the refusal or fear of growing up and maturing. He is an adult in SoW:EoG but still acts like his normal child-like self with a sprinkle of teenager.

Muerto- Represents body issues, disability, or anything relating to hating or disliking your own body. He can be interpreted in many ways, but I intended him on being hating your body because of puberty. He feels as if he is no longer himself because he lost something that made him him, and is now someone else. But he is up for more interpretation, like hating your disability due to your new self or hating your body because you are trans. Interpret him how you will.

Talon- Represents imaginary friends in youth and growing up. He was created to be a friend to a lonely soul, like how kids make imaginary friends when they simply want friends. He is shown to always say what The Supreme God wants to hear, which is what we do with our imaginary friends since they are our creations and do what we want. However, he is told that he should leave to live with Baku. This is because as we grow up, we tend to want or just leave things behind as we grow.

The Supreme God- Represents...well, a lot. The Supreme God can be very versatile with interpretation. They can be seen as a being that is selfish and is forced to learn how to be human, they can be seen as a soul forced into a position they could never properly learn of, there's a lot. But here's my original pitch...a creator. The Supreme God represents someone who feels unappreciated after basically creating everything. They eventually try to gift someone who helped them, but doesn't understand why they refused their gift. Basically someone who wants to feel appreciated but is confused when people don't want their appreciation, if that makes sense. Maybe, idk.

Anyways, if you had different interpretations of the characters, let me know! I love hearing y'all's thoughts on my content!

Now, non-character things. Some of this might sound like trivia but most of it is important, so apologies if it all feels quick.

Souls of War-

Camazotz and most Aztec Gods speak Spanish on occasion. Now, why is this important? Well, the Aztecs and most ancient civilizations had their native tongue erased by the Europeans. Because of this, the Aztec Gods struggled to continue to preach and speak. They had to speak Spanish to still work with their worshippers. However they speak English for a majority of the book because of the obvious, but also to be comprehensive. They also say a lot of swear words in Spanish lol.

I made many cultural references in the first book. My favorite being La Catrina. La Catrina is a symbol in Mexican culture of being usually represented as a singer made of bones. She is very beautiful and drawn a lot with beautiful clothing and markings on her skull.

I'm pretty sure I made a 13 heavens reference in it. Anyways, The Thirteen Heavens is a set of heavens in Aztec mythology where the gods reside in a level type of structure. I kinda made more of a "For gods sake!" type of thing because y'know, it works.

Camazotz dies in the end. For a long of reasons, but mainly as a backstory that turned into a main story.

Souls of War: Eyes of Chaos-

The prologue starts with summarized backstory of Baku. That's pretty good. We get an idea of how sick someone can get of second chances.

Camazotz has a birb girlfriend, which you can exclusively learn from my Tumblr and Twitter.

We get more with Camazotz, which is good because we always need more with the og bat.

Also in this book we get perspective chapters, because I know we need to know how these two feel about each other.

Baku is a rather fickle character in this book, but there's good reason for it. Baku is so tired of just letting things happen, feeling like they can barely do anything to change anything. So, they change. Baku becomes rather malicious and cruel in this book. Baku finally shows their true colors, which is good because they finally get to start confronting their issues.

Baku eats some conchas. This is more just because I love conchas and I wanted to make a "Baku doesn't know what certain things are" joke. They make a comment on how they thought conchas were shells(conches 🐚).

So idk how relevant this is, but Baku first attacks Camazotz in the face first. Baku prefers to attack the face, mostly the eyes. Why? Because Baku believes that no one else can see the truth, so they are unworthy of their own eyes.

Baku also thinks a lot, a lot more than they speak at times. Souls of War Harbingers of Magic has the record of how much Baku has spoken.

So even though Camazotz and Baku do reconcile in the end, they still have a somewhat rocky relationship. They have a "I don't hate you, I wouldn't say love, but I'd die, kill, and spare for you" type of thing I guess.

Camazotz heavily idolizes Baku in a way. She thinks of them a lot, and usually does in casual and kind ways. I think it's nice.

Souls of War: Harbingers of Magic-

Ok we get Muerto's backstory right in the prologue. I need everyone to know...that Muerto basically hates himself. Look man, when you lose the most important thing to yourself, and feel forced to take on a new identity, and then forced to soon deal with trauma, I think you'd hate your life a little.

So Mischief gets a spotlight here a little, because he is a important character. In a way, he is a redeemer. His purpose is to help those who kinda had hardships in life.

Anyways the whole thing of them being Harbingers of Magic is glossed over rather quickly. But it's important because of the next book.

So Muerto actually manages to confront a hidden issue he had. In the book, he wanted to sacrifice himself to kill Soulix, the antagonist. However, Mischief did not want him to, hoping that Camazotz and Baku would kill Soulix. When Muerto accidentally hurts Mischief, instead of proceeding with his actions, he stops and acknowledges what he did. Because he did what he promised to never do. He wanted to stop problems, instead of confronting them. But in the end, he learned how to try and handle a problem.

Muerto also learns to accept how he looks. Sure, that might clash with his character, but it's for good reason. He realized that if his friends were willing to do so much for him, that he never wanted them to care about...why did he need to change? Why must he do something that they never take notice of? They didn't care that he didn't have wings, they loved him for who he was. He decided that he wasn't going to "fix" himself, but embrace who he is now.

Baku and Camazotz have a small argument over alcohol. This is mainly to show they still sorta just talk over anything, even if it is pure nonsense.

Souls of War: End of Godhood-

The title is extremely misleading but it works in the end.

So The Supreme God is the main antagonist, with Talon being their partner in crime. But Talon gets his redemption earlier than they do.

So Talon is a character...a character most like me. You'd expect me to say that about The Supreme God, but no. Talon is by far the most character. He learns how to be himself, how to live without orders, and how to see others as equals. But, before that, we can see someone who can act a type of normal. He acts the normal has always been trained to act. Of course, he can act normal, as he is capable of being friendly. But he is usually trained to obey orders until it is resting time. Anyways getting off track but he is a very interesting character.

We get to see some fun God interaction, until it ain't fun anymore. We learn that again, gods can be unreasonable stupid and do the bad things. Yes, I am very fond of the ideas of gods not being very godly.

Camazotz gets some bonding time with the boys, and Muerto is so intolerant of her at times. He only really accepts childishness from Mischief, not a god.

So Talon gets adopted into the family, and he has an extremely hard time trying to adjust. But he is very grateful to be invited to be somewhere to live. Plus he can still see The Supreme God, so win win.

So to answer a question, Talon was never designed to be a weapon. He was a companion, but due to The Supreme God's curiosity, they gave him power and trained him to be a certain way. Talon doesn't know what he wants, he doesn't even really know who he is either. He is more of a occasionally used shank.

In the beginning of SoW EoG, there's a lot of flower talk. The flowers have meaning actually, but I can't remember each one right now. What I can remember is that Marigolds, lilac, and hydrangeas are all mentioned. Look up their meanings and maybe you can piece it together on why.

Ok so that's a bunch of stuff. Thanks for reading. I hope you somewhat enjoyed it? I love talking about the lore.

Til we meet again my friends.

#Souls of War #SoW #Baku Lore #my lore #SoW Lore #man i really don't wanna type every tag #so I'm not gonna #Baku #Camazotz #Talon #Mischief #Muerto #The Supreme God #TSG #my stories

[jadeee]

Answer The Question

Roz and Lydia, her younger sister, have a heart-to-heart.

~ A/N: Feel free to read the previous chapters if you haven’t already, you can find them here.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warning: arguing, swearing, violence, mentions of sex

The words flew out of Roz’s mouth in a flurry of English and Spanish. What she was saying wasn’t important because Lydia knew she was livid and that’s all that mattered.

“Jesus Christ!” Lydia clutched the bedsheets to her chest as her so-called boyfriend ran around the room evading Roz’s attacks.

Lydia screamed while her sister threw any and everything at the man who invaded their space.

A mug flew past Corey’s head and shattered against the wall.

“You’re fucking crazy!” He crouched to the ground to grab his clothes.

“I’ll show you crazy!” Roz snatched his Timberlands from the foot of the bed and tossed them out a nearby window.

“Hey, bitch!”

As he lunged toward Roz, Lydia grabbed him the arm and yanked him back. 

Roz grabbed a pair of scissors off the dresser “You really wanna try me?”

The man stared at Roz in a state of bewilderment and fear. Lydia’s grip remained on his arm as she cried and pleaded for them to stop fighting.

“Now get the fuck outta my house!” Roz held her grip on the scissors while she stared him down.

He yanked his arm free from Lydia then slowly walked past Roz.

When he made it safely past her, he ran for the door. Lydia brought her hands to her face then yelled at the top of her lungs “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me?! Lydia, what’s wrong with you?” Roz raised her hands “What the fuck were you doing with him? Y’know what he’s into, why would you –”

“We’re in love!”

Roz laughed “I don’t – in love?! You’re 17! You haven’t even graduated yet.”

“Mom and dad were married in high school.”

“That’s different!”

“How?”

Lydia scoffed “You sound just like them.”

Roz lowered the scissors to her side, “This is why they kicked you out isn’t it?”

A low chuckle escaped from her lips as she wiped her forehead.

“It’s not like we’re breaking the law.”

Roz studied her little sister with wide eyes.

“The age of consent is seventeen.”

“Jesus,” Roz murmured.

She looked at her sister who still sat in bed, clutching the sheets to her chest. Her brown hair draped over her small shoulders.

“Y’know what it’s like to be seventeen and in love, right?”

Roz focused her attention back to the present, “I know what it’s like to be young.”

She set the scissors on the dresser “You’re naive,” she disappeared down the hall and shouted “you’ll believe almost anything,” then entered the room with a power drill.

She stood by the door then knelt down to the ground. The tip of her power drill met one of the screws holding the hinge in place. 

Lydia craned her neck at Roz’s handiwork, “What are you doing?”

Roz pocketed the screw “I’m taking your door down.” She answered without looking up.

“You can’t do that.”

“Watch me.”

“You don’t even own the palace.”

“My house, my rules.”

“It’s an apartment.”

“With my name on the lease!”

Roz propped the door against its former frame, “Take a shower and get dressed.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going out and I don’t trust you by yourself right now.”

Lydia sat up on her forearms “Are you serious?”

“Does it look like I’m joking?”

In the few seconds of silence, Lydia saw the small lines that started to settle around her sister’s mouth. She wondered if they were laugh lines.

“C’mon, Zee.”

Roz shook her head “I don’t wanna hear it.”

She walked toward Lydia and opened her hand. Lydia glanced at her open palm then rolled her eyes. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and placed it in Roz’s hand.

“It’s just sex.”

Roz flicked her eyes up at the younger version of herself “There’s more to it than that. You’d know if you pulled your head out of your ass.”

She turned on her heels leaving Lydia to ponder the thought.

“You’ve got ten minutes to get ready.”

She stopped by the dresser and opened the top drawer. For a moment, she rummaged through it then fished out another phone. 

Lydia stared at her sister with fire in her eyes. 

Roz didn’t bother looking at her. Instead she closed the drawer then held Lydia’s second phone in the air as she walked out of the room “10 minutes!”

Lydia’s cheeks burned crimson. Tears swelled in her eyes and she quickly wiped them away for fear of bring seen as weak.

~~~~~~

Lydia seemed to escape most of the tension that night. At dinner with Roz’s friends she sat at a nearby table. Roz was feeling gracious enough when she’d asked to sit elsewhere. Without her phone, Lydia felt naked. She toyed with most of her meal and spent the evening people watching. When she got bored, again, she’d asked the waiter for a pen then started to draw on a napkin. The napkin which she now fiddled with in the pocket of her jacket as she walked home with her sister.

She prayed for some sort of action in the subway car but her prayers were dissolved when she found it nearly empty.

Roz sat down then Lydia moved over an inch or two to sit nearby.

The napkin was now a crumpled ball of blotted ink in her pocket. The silence slowly became loud yet she preferred it over a lecture. 

“I was 16 when it happened,” Roz spoke while looking straight ahead.

Lydia glanced over at her.

“It was actually on my birthday. Mom and dad had this get together, of course, but I told them I was gonna go to Evie’s after.”

She glanced down at her hands. Lydia turned slowly toward her “Like the Evelyn we just had dinner with?”

Roz nodded “Yeah, we used to be joined at the hip.”

“What happened? I heard her say ya’ll haven’t seen each other in months.”

Roz shrugged “Life, I guess. Anyway, they weren’t buying it so Evie stepped in and sold ‘em. So after my birthday party, I went to her place then we met James and one of his buddies at the movies. We hung out, had a few laughs, and went back to Evie’s. Her parents weren’t home and she was an only child so it was just us. I remember thinking this is it. After this, we’ll be that couple that walks to class together. Hold hands. Always says corny shit to each other with that goofy ass smile.”

Lydia felt the corners of her mouth turn upward then tried to stop it. 

“I remember the next time I saw him in the hall. We were passing each other and he didn’t even look at me. But I figured, it’s a new semester so maybe he’s got a lot going on. Ironically, we had a class together so I worked up the nerve to talk to him. He didn’t even remember my name and when I told him about that day, he called me someone else.”

Lydia’s fingers hovered around the crumpled napkin in her pocket. 

Roz readjusted herself in her seat, “I’m not telling you what to do, just don’t do somethin’ you’re gonna regret.”

The subway car slowed to a stop.

“Two lectures in one day?”

“I guess I can’t help it,” Roz stood to her feet and Lydia followed slowly behind as she walked home.

~~~~~~

Roz spent the last thirty minutes tossing and turning. She’d peered through the hall a few times since she removed her door too – in case Lydia tried to pull a fast one. The sounds of the night made her think about her last date with Jim and his invitation to Idaho … Idaho. She groaned at the memory. After a moment, she reached for her phone and texted him. As soon as she hit send she buried her face into her pillow.

 ~~~~~~~

The following morning Roz accompanied Lydia to school. This was part of her punishment Lydia hated the most. 

“I’ve got a meeting that’ll run over once you get out of school but I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“Y’know I’m not five, right?”

Lydia sheepishly scanned the courtyard to make sure none of  her friends were in sight.

“You don’t have to drop me off and pick me up, and –”

“And it’s not up for discussion,” Roz raised her brows “Ms. Garcia, next door, is gonna call me if you��re not home by 2:30 so no funny business.”

“Yes, mom.” Lydia rolled her eyes.

“I’ll see you at home, I love you.”

She pulled Lydia in for a quick embrace then walked off, finally leaving Lydia on her own.

~~~~~~

She’d played it in her head over and over again. If it went well, she’d be home by 3 pm and blame it on some subway mishap or traffic.

She’d practically ran the whole way and as she approached his place she slowed down to catch her breath. Her hand rested on the cold brick of the building while she scanned the apartment buzzer for his name.

Suddenly the door to the complex opened and there he was. Corey looked down at Lydia with a smirk on his face.

“Well look who it is, Lydia in the flesh.”

He skipped down to the landing of the stairs “I thought I wasn’t gonna hear from you again.”

“My sister took my phone so I couldn’t text you.”

He smacked his teeth “She’s fucking crazy.”

Lydia slid her hands into her pockets “I wouldn’t say that but she was outta line.”

He leaned against the post near the stairs and let out a low chuckle. 

“Anyway, I’ve got some time so I figured we could hang out. Maybe go to the pier?”

“Or pick up where we left off?”

She studied the smug smirk on his face and the raised brow, ”No.”

His smile slowly faded.

“I’m not in the mood.”

His eyes traveled to a near passerby “Alright …”

After another moment of silence, Lydia raised her brows “So? Do you wanna hang out or not?”

“Actually, I gotta go.” He leaned off the post “Lemme know when you’re off house arrest.” Without another word, he turned his back to her and walked down the sidewalk.

She stood on the pavement, still and unmoving as several people walked past her. It wasn’t until she heard a bird caw that she started to move again.

~~~~~~

The sounds that surrounded her were white noise at this point. It was like being on autopilot. Or like when the car is running on E but you depend on that morsel to get you to your final destination. When she approached Roz’s door, Ms. Garcia was standing outside.

“It’s 2:40, I was starting to get worried.”

Lydia barely looked at the woman as she headed for the door. 

“I’m sorry. There was some delay at the station.” She put the key into the door and opened it without looking at her “You can go back inside now.”

“Okay,” she studied the blank look on her face “I’m right here if you need anything.”

Lydia glacned at her “I’m alright,” then flashed her a half-hearted grin before crossing the threshold.

The faint smile dimmed once she closed the door. She trudged to her room and her bag collapsed to the floor with a thud. 

Her fingers yanked at the drawer and grabbed whatever clothes she could find to take a shower. She clutched them in her hand and shut the drawer with the other. Her fingers remained on the knob and after a moment, she yanked it open then shut it again. Only a second went by until she did it again with more force and anger and breath and why was she panting? Why was her throat tight? Why could she scream and destroy everything in sight?

Her clothes had fallen to the floor and she shut the drawer with a final THWAP and a sharp crack filled the room. The drawer sat in its place half-cocked with its contents in disarray as Lydia sank to the floor struggling to catch her breath and quiet her sobs.

~~~~~~

When Roz walked into her apartment, she caught the light emanating from Lydia’s room.

She walked in quietly, careful to not disturb her which proved pointless as Lydia peeped up at her from her notebook.

“Hey.” A pencil lazily dangled between her fingers as she looked up at Roz.

“Hey,” she stepped further into Lydia’s room “what are you working on?”

“Just some homework assignment.”

Roz nodded her head “I’ll leave you to it.”

Before she left, she popped her head back into Lydia’s room “I brought sandwiches from 22nd …”

The corners of Lydia’s mouth turned upward “Why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

She set her pencil down and shut her notebook, as she followed Roz into the kitchen. Her closed notebook sat in the dark, her homework assignment unfinished with the half-written sentence reading: I feel like an 8 year old again with a diary. I just can’t say any of this out loud. I guess I thought it was love but

~~~~~~

Roz and Lydia sat on the couch, stuffed to the brim and watching a movie on television. The colors of the TV became a swirl to Lydia as she traveled into the depths of her mind again.

“Boys are stupid.” She professed in a low voice.

Without looking over at her, Roz added “They can be,” and her hand trailed towards her sister’s and she held onto it.

Lydia felt her eyes sting and restrained incoming tears.

“We should go out tomorrow.”

Lydia chuckled “Oh God,” she brought her hands up to her face “not a shopping spree like in the movies, that’s so corny.”

Roz laughed “What?”

“I don’t need a happiness crusade, or a mani-pedi,” Lydia laughed “and I don’t need a hug or sympathy,” tears fell from her face “and I don’t wanna talk about it, I’m just so angry,” her breath hitched “I’m so upset and I could just” her voice tensed up and she wiped tears from her face.

Roz got up from the couch and walked away then came back with a handful of mugs.

Lydia looked up at her sister through tears “What’s that for?”

“Throw it,” she offered her a mug “c’mon.”

Lydia wiped her face “What?! But the apartment –”

“My name’s on the lease, remember?”

Roz sat the mugs onto the table and held one in her hand “It’s okay to be mad but you gotta get it out.” She pulled her arm back and launched the mug at an empty spot on the wall across the room.

Lydia watched the porcelain shatter against the beige wall. 

Roz picked up another mug and offered it to Lydia.

“Are we doin’ this or what?”

A smile broke out across Lydia’s face and a tear traveled from her dimple down to the corner of her lips. The bitter salt brought a smile to her face as her fingertips wrapped around the porcelain.

~~~~~~

The sisters laughed as another mug shattered against the wall. Knocks rapped furiously against the door and a muttered voice yelled “Is everything okay in there?”

Roz and Lydia exchanged a quick glance.

Roz opened the door to a worried Ms. Garcia.

“I heard glass breaking and –”

Roz nodded her head “We’re just bonding, everything’s fine.”

Ms. Garcia raised a brow at Roz’s cheerful smile as she shut the door.

Lydia scanned the pile of broken glass on the floor “I think I’m good now.”

Roz walked into the room with a broom and dustpan “Good, because I only have two mugs left.”

Lydia smiled despite tear stained cheeks.

Roz swept the pile into the dustpan as Lydia held it in place.

“Thanks by the way,” Lydia lifted the dust pan and headed for the trash can “I needed that.”

Roz scanned the floor for any missed spots “That makes two of us.”

She looked at Lydia with a smile as she dumped the glass into the trash.

“I’ll take care of that. Go ahead and finish your homework.”

“Alright,” Lydia set the dustpan by the trash can and went back to her notebook. For fear that her sister would come in to check on her, she committed to the bit and wrote:

I guess we all make mistakes but I wouldn’t call them that because you learn something, you just learned it the hard way. I never really cared for school but we’re in it every day. Learning something, failing, passing, barely getting by, asking for help. I’m just glad I’m not in it alone.

Roz placed the bag in the dumpster then began the walk back to her apartment. When she stepped into the building, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She fished for it and read a text from Jim: Hey, I’d love to meet up. What time were you thinking?

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

#jim #roz #rosalynn #writers on tumblr #madebyjade #short stories #nyc #sister bonding

[thefanficmonster]

Always Here

 Corpse Husband x Reader with Selective Mutism (Gender Neutral - 2nd POV)

Warnings: Mentions of Anxiety and Depression (only briefly), Swearing, Mild Insecurity

Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: You explain to yours and Corpse’s friends why it’d be a bad idea to meet them in person, finally revealing the secret you’ve been keeping from them since you met.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so sorry for the long wait for the fic to be posted but here it finally is and I hope you enjoy reading it if you come across it! And if I’ve gotten anything about the disorder incorrectly, anyone who wants to can correct me in the comments. Please keep in mind that this is the first time I’m hearing about this disorder so I have probably made mistakes which are in no way intentional or meant to offend anyone. Love, Vy ❤

“Hey..?“ You hear the soft voice of your boyfriend come from the other side of the slightly ajar door to your shared room where you’ve been working on a project for your students for Monday.

“Hmm?“ You hum questioningly, not taking your eyes off the laptop screen where the words you’ve been typing for hours now stare back at you. Being a foreign languages tutor requires a lot of attention, dedication and caution. Not once have you reread a text to see that there are French words in it when you had intended for it to be in Spanish or vice versa. 

That has worked out well in your favor this past week. You’ve been dodging requests to join streams with Corpse and your friends for almost seven days now, always using the same excuse. It’s not so much so that you don’t want to hang out with them, but there is a certain topic you want to avoid which they’d touched upon the last time you were on call with them and that is: meeting up in person.

“We’re playing Phasmophobia...wanna join?“ He asks cautiously, now taking a step inside the room, “It’s your game after all...“

You save the progress you’ve made with the worksheet before spinning your desk chair to face the doorway where Corpse is awkwardly standing as though he’s unsure if he’s welcomed inside the room.

“I know, I know it is but I’m swamped, really....“ You trail off, hoping the same trick would work for the hundredth time. A quick look into his eyes bursts that hopeful bubble of yours - there’s a spark suggesting he won’t let it fly this time.

“Are you? I mean, yeah I know how much of a busybody you are but this seems too convenient....Are you sure there’s no other reason for you avoiding us?“ He asks, carefully picking his words as his gaze struggles to stay focused on yours, frequently falling to the floor as if he’s nervous or guilty because of what he’s saying.

You pause for a second. On any other occasion you wouldn’t have hesitated to tell him not to worry and reassure him that work is just keeping you away from him and your friends but right now you can’t lie to him. Seeing him so flooded with worry to the point he feels helpless makes your heart ache.

Your voice almost fails you but you fight it. You’ve never let the words die down in your throat around Corpse. He’s the only person who didn’t stress you out or trigger your anxiety upon meeting for the first time. It probably had something to do with the unspoken understanding you two shared. The struggles you could relate on and the fact that you both had been fucked over by life from the very start of it and later on as the years went by.

“I just...I don’t want them to think of me or see me any differently, you know? But I don’t want to lie to them either. Work and stuff is only half the truth, if I’m being honest but it still feels like I’m such a nasty liar...Like I’m letting my morals down. I don’t wanna lose my friends they are right now either...I don’t think I’d ever hop back on stream if I know they look at me and talk to me with pity.“

This encourages him to finally cross the threshold and walk over to you, squatting in front of your chair, “There’s no way that’ll happen, Y/N. I know those people like the back of my hand. I know that nothing will change the way they see you. Rae would never stop casually flirting with you every now and then. Toast would never pass up an opportunity to anger you to the point of turning you into a murderer and Sykkuno... well, he will continue being adorable and sweet with you as he always has been.“ He explains, holding your hands in his, resting them in your lap as his eyes dig into yours, searching for all the emotions you’re feeling at the moment.

You shake your head ever so slightly, “You can’t be sure. They’re human, Corpse. Pity and sympathy are parts of human nature, part of the humane reaction when told something bad has happened to someone or someone’s struggling with something...it’s natural! But that doesn’t change the fact that I absolutely hate the thought of it happening to me.”

“And it’s a friend’s nature to be able to gauge your emotions and what you do and don’t wanna hear. A friend would know how to react, how to respond and how to comfort you.“ He stands his ground, speaking so softly yet convincingly it’s baffling, “They’ll know better than to pity you. You - someone who could easily kick their asses in any given Among Us game - have nothing to worry about. That I guarantee and I’m asking you to trust me.“

You’re left on the fence. On one hand, the fear of losing what you have with the squad right now, having them not be your safe space is a nightmarish thought of its own, but then again Corpse has known these people for a lot longer than you have which gives you a reason to believe him.

“What if it all goes downhill?“ You ask, voice barely above a whisper as you stare down at your joined hands in your lap. His gaze is as convincing as his words and you really don’t wanna look at it right now because you’re afraid it’ll convince you.

“What if it doesn’t?“ He replies without missing a beat. “It won’t, Y/N. I bet my life that it won’t go downhill.”

There’s a long pause, leaving the two of you in a dead silence. The air in the room has become heavy with the tension and suspense of awaiting your answer. The fun but not really fun part is that you too are waiting to see what the answer will be. You’re as much in the dark as he is. You don’t know what your brain will decide in the last second, you can’t predict it when your mind and body feel so detached from one another at the moment.

“Alright...“ You only become aware of the word when it echoes off the walls, slicing through the silence, “But...in a case shit goes bad, I’ll never forgive you.“

Without a second to waste he gets to his feet, lifting you with him. His lips press against yours briefly before he says: “I know I won’t get to find out what that feels like.”

Yeah, I hope so too.

*  *  *  *  *

“Hey guys, guess who I finally dragged back on stream!“ Corpse announces proudly as the arm that he has wrapped around your waist tightens its hold as if you’re about to jump off his lap and run for the hills which you’re awfully willing to do.

“Hi everybody!“ You greet your friends, “Long time no see!“

“Oh my Gosh, hi Y/N!“ Rae is the first to exclaim a response, provoking the corners of your lips to curve, “I’ve missed you so much!“

“Aww, I missed you too, sweetie.“ You gush, momentarily forgetting the stress of the inevitable.

“Ugh, we really need to meet up someday! You can’t run away or leave me on read in real life.“ She laughs, obviously only half-joking with some true intentions behind the joke.

Feeling surprisingly calm, you let out a sigh, inhale a long deep breath and go on to say, “I wish I could, Rae, I really do, but I’m afraid that isn’t possible for the time being.”

You look to your side and see Corpse’s gaze fixated on you as he nods his head slowly, a small warm smile on his face, an unspoken encouragement. He knows you have it in the bag, you’re the one doubting yourself.

“Oh, why is that? Is something wrong?“ Your heart flutters at the worry evident in Rae’s voice. You can tell she cares about you and Corpse so much, much like the rest of the members in the call who second her question, all with the same amount of concern.

“Well...“ You press your lips in a thin line as you compose coherent sentences in your head, “You see, there’s a small detail about me that I’ve been keeping from you since day one. It’s not something I go around telling people but considering I’m about to reveal it in front of tens of thousands of viewers, I guess it’s no longer gonna be a secret...“ You pause for a second, waiting for the words to string themselves together into sensible statements. Your anxiety is bubbling up but is still at a low enough level for your body to not shut down. “I have this ailment - Selective Mutism. It’s a form of anxious reaction that manifests in the loss of ability to speak in certain situations and places or around certain people. And I do wanna point out that I’ve been getting the hand of it more and more every year and has been less and less of a problem as I get older, but it was a real hinderance when I was a child. However, when put into situations like meeting new people in person outside of my workplace is a setup for the perfect trigger to cause my voice to fail me and for my brain to run out of words. And I REALLY don’t want that to happen, especially not around any of you. I’d do anything to meet you guys, be able to give you a hug and thank you all for changing my life for the better but at this time in my life I’m not going to be able to do that. So, I’m asking you to be patient with me and don’t worry, you’ve each got a booked hug, I’ve got a strict list so no one will be left out, I promise.“

Corpse pulls you closer, placing a kiss on your cheek as you slowly start to calm yourself down with an efficient breathing exercise that has proven to help you most of the times you feel overwhelmed.

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell us?“ Poki asks solemnly.

“Yeah, why didn’t you? We should’ve known.“ Charlie butts in the conversation as well, making you bite your lip thinking Corpse might’ve been wrong after all.

“You’re talking about the hugs, aren’t you?“ Poki asks him in a very unimpressed tone.

“Of course I am! And you’re not?“ He retorts diplomatically, causing you to wheeze out a laugh more thanks to the relief than the humor of his comment.

“Yeah so am I.“ She replies with a giggle.

“Like, imagine how much happier I’d be every morning knowing that I’ll inevitably receive a hug from Y/N one day. You should’ve told me, Y/N!“ Charlie complains.

Your eyes crinkle at the corners as you find yourself smiling from the bottom of your heart after the longest time of handling the weight of knowing this would have to be dealt with sooner or later. You never thought it would be this easy. But then again, with these people, just about everything is easy.

“It was supposed to be a surprise!“ You reply defensively, while holding back a rumbling laugh of relief and pure joy. “You guys should know I’m full of surprises and expect them by now!“

“Hmm...“ Toast for a second, “Yeah, you’ve got a point.“

“No, you don’t!“ Poki says, still on Charlie’s side of the discussion, “You may be known for throwing us on loops every now and then, but you are still probably the most unpredictable person I’ve ever met.“

“I’m not sure if you mean that as a compliment but I’ll take it as one.“ You reply, quietly sniffling. You feel Corpse run a finger over your cheek and only then notice a tear had slipped your eye. A happy tear.

After a bit of the witty banter died down, you were left feeling like a whole new person. Refreshed, happier and more like yourself than you’ve felt in a long while. It was so uplifting to read Corpse’s chat as well, all the lovely comments coming in at the speed of light had you shedding a few more tears while you were at it. However, nothing could even come close to comparing to all the love and support you got from your friends. It felt like it made up for all the hardships you’ve ever been through as a result of your ailment, although you no longer see it that way really. It’s more of an obstacle that you have to jump over - an obstacle which gets lower and lower as time passes and it becomes increasingly easier to hop over it, especially when you’ve learned to jump so high.

“Ok, ok, jokes aside...” Rae’s voice takes over the VC the way the sound of a fork hitting a glass would make as a beginning to an actual speech at a dinner table, “Y/N, I speak on behalf of everyone present and every friend who failed to attend today’s stream - probably for all the viewers too - when I say that no wait is too long. Take all the time you need and don’t even think about rushing the process. You have us always, virtually and otherwise. If you ever need us, we’ll be on the road or on a plane over and that will not change regardless of whether we’ve met you before or not. We’ll be there when you want or need us, we’re always here, and you’ll forever be our friend. One day, no matter how far or near to the present, we’ll get those hugs. We’ll be patient, don’t you worry, but I’m asking you to please be patient with yourself as well.

The second you and Rae had met, you established a very strong connection that ran to a very deep level but you never thought it would run that deep down to the point of telepathy. Turns out you’re not the only one full of surprises. 

“Thanks, Rae. Thank you all for being my friends and for being such wonderful people. You’re the light in so many people’s lives, including mine, and you all make this planet a better place. I cannot thank you enough.“ You say as a fresh pour of tears warms your cheeks.

Your words warm and melt the hearts of the members in the lobby as well as the ones of the viewers which are sending all types of emotions your way through the variety of emojis in Corpse’s chat.

Feeling your boyfriend’s arms tighten their hold on you, you’re reminded of his presence and feel slightly guilty that you momentarily forgot. You look down at him with glossy but smiling eyes to match the soft smile your lips have curved into.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?“ He asks, voice just above a whisper after he mutes his mic.

You lean down, fitting your head in the crook of his neck as his curls tickle your cheeks and forehead.

“Nope...“ You say with a small giggle, pausing for a second before tilting your head just enough to kiss his jaw, “And I have you to thank the most for everything.“

His warm lips come in contact with your forehead in a comforting kiss, “Nothing to thank me for, babe. Your happiness means the world to me. You mean the world to me.”

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari  @renupf  @booklover76  @sra-verissimo  @beatrhizn  @blueberrystigma  @beatrhizn  @chicken-taco-burrito  @scorpio-echo  @nyctophiliiiiaaa  @squirreljoe   @azra-x  @ace-of-spaids2

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse fic #corpse fandom #corpse fanfic #corpse fanfiction #corpse imagines #corpse imagine #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fic #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband imagine #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #fluff #reader #x reader #reader insert

[marky4l]

Step by Step / Mark Lee

step by step / mkl

pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

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

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

notes: lia yeonjun chan hyuck jeno all make tiny appearances 

word count: 17.2k 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stares back at you. “No.”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 1: Denial|

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Two days later, you meet Mark again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

You eye him. “Okay…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a beat, and then.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mark and I held hands. But it—”

“You what?!”

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

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

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

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

She nears you. “Explain.” 

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

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

“You like him, you bitch!” 

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m cherishing the party privately.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 2: Anger|

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

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

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

“I know,” you say, nervous. You gulp.

“Okay. If you’re n—”

“Mark and I kissed.”

She sits up and turns to look at you.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“About what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My legs are wobbly.”

“Bullshit. My back aches.”

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

He sits up. “What’s reality?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A toboggan, you mean.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 3: Bargaining, Depression|

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This all feels too real, now.

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You knew?”

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

—

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

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

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

“You sound nervous,” he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

Stage 4: Acceptance|

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, he’s my boyfriend now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

“Your bra sucks,” he jokes.

You love it.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

#mark lee #mark lee imagines #mark imagines #mark drabbles

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

forced landing.

Gif credits to the author.

FRANCISCO ‘CATFISH’ MORALES.

TRIPLE FRONTIER | USEFUL LINKS.

❝ words: about 1.2k.

❝ summary: watching the sunrise doesn't go as you expected.

❝ a / n: according to Google, Triple Frontier was filmed in Hawaii. don't forget to comment and reblog if you liked it, i'd really appreciate it!

“Baby… Hey, baby”.

The soft whispers fall onto your ear being wrapped by two strong arms that squeeze you gently, as a pair of lips spread sweet short kisses all over the right side of your face.

“Amor, wake up”.

You grunt sleepy hiding in the gap between his neck and his shoulder, tangling your fingers in his brown curly hair, causing Frankie to giggle with that kind of laugh you'd kill for.

“C'mon, we gotta go”.

“It's still dark outside”. You whine wanting to continue sleeping under his firm grip.

“I know, but I wanna show you somethin'. C'mon, baby… I'm gonna make some coffee. Take a shower and get ready”.

As soon as he pulls himself away from you, you can't help but sob disappointed, sinking your face into the pillow to drown there another grunt before laying your eyes on your boyfriend dressed with a pair of dark pants and a mahogany shirt opened over a white t-shirt. Needless to say, he has already his favorite Standard cap on and his Timberland camel boots leading his steps downstairs. It should be illegal to look this good.

It's almost seven in the morning when you reach the airport, driving directly to the private runway where a Cessna Skycatcher is waiting for you. Turning at Frankie, who is focused on the road yet, you pucker your lips containing a joyful smile. He always knows how to surprise you and make getting up early worthwhile.

As usual, your boyfriend checks and makes sure that your headphones and your microphone are on point and working, before opening the door for you and helping you to jump in. Once everything is settled up, he starts to touch some buttons over his head before pulling back and to the left a lever to turn on the motor and the blades of the helicopter. There's nothing that Frankie can love more than flying with you by his copilot. You have the same adventure spirit he has, complimenting him to perfection. Following him on any crazy journey.

It's dawning over Hawaii when you reach the clear sky, fascinated with the views in front of your eyes. The sun seems like it is resurfacing from the blue dark sea, creating an orangey-pink horizon that has you totally captivated.

“This is Pilot from Cessna, four, six, one, to Launch Control, you copy me?”

Tilting your head to Frankie, watching him pressing a brown button close to your kneel, you can't help but raise an eyebrow quickly being pushed to reality when you don't have any response from the air-traffic controllers. You can see Frankie frowning, pretending he's not worried or confused. Actually, he's an experimented pilot, what could go wrong?

“Launch Control, this is Francisco Morales from Cessna, four, six, one. We're getting height, you copy that?”

He waits for a couple of seconds, clicking his tongue and closing his eyes for a second. You don't know too much about his job, but you know very well that he can't continue the flight without permission, or knowing if any plane is close. Turning the control wheel to the left to come back, much to his regret. Hearing him cursing in Spanish, the aircraft's wings stagger in the maneuver.

“Mierda”. He growls when a non-stop beep sounds flashing a red light over your heads.

You're losing height and the plane is about to dive.

“Fra— Frankie, what's goin'on?”

“Stay calm, baby. Stay calm”. He says squeezing your thigh for a second. “Listen, I need you to take the manual. It's possible we have to land in the sea”.

“No, no, no, no… You have to be fucking kidding me!”

“Baby, breathe”.

You're freaking out with your heart racing and your fingers shaking. He continues trying to contact the Launch Control, while you do your best to find the manual under your seat, bowing down as much as you can.

“Page two. Open it up on page two”.

You swallow heavily, scared like never before. It's not a question of trust, it's that you're too young to die.

“Don't panic, baby, okay? Just read me the manual”.

“Forced landing?” You babble about to cry, sniffing through your nose.

“Yeah”.

Frankie has never told you about his forced landings to not worry you, so you're guessing it's not his first time by the calm he's keeping. Or maybe he's just a pretender and he's more frightened than you are.

“Verify flight ring engagement?” You're reading automatically, without thinking or focusing on the words you're uttering.

“Got it”. He nods his head.

“Initiate Engagement Process, follow steps eleven to fourteen”.

“Okay, got it”.

“Fuel Selector Valve… check?”

“Wait, we're getting some response”. Frankie whispers, pretending to pay attention to something through the headphones.

“You're lying”. You reply breathlessly because no one is talking from the Launch Control, not being able to control the anxiety installing within your chest as you continue losing height. “The Pil—”.

You can't finish the sentence, as you have read what's next. Your eyes now are filled with other kinds of tears.

“Go on, baby, I need you to keep reading”.

“The Pilot in Comm— Command… God, I hate you so much, Frankie”. Cleaning your tears with the back of his hand, you wave it after to have some air. “The Pilot in Command will love the passenger forever”.

“Check”. Your boyfriend replies, turning at you for a second with a funny smile curving his lips. “Keep going, amor”.

“Will you marry the Pilot in Command?”

You can't help but leave the manual on your lap, while Frankie stabilizes the flight, covering your face with both hands breaking into a silent cry. A minute ago you were about to die and now you're about to get engaged. Feeling a tender kiss on your temple, you look at him running into a red velvet box opened with a gold ring on it. The small diamond on top of it shines with the dawn, causing you to laugh at the same time the tears fall from your eyes.

“I ha— hate you”. You chuckle cleaning again your cheeks and drying your hands in your t-shirt before taking the piece of jewelry.

Frankie watches you putting it in your finger, pouting straight to him, as his chest is swollen with pride and happiness. You cup his face onto your palms and crash your lips on his, peppering them once and once —until he gets too distracted and the aircraft makes a sharp move to the left.

“I'm… fucking done, Frankie! Land the damn plane!” You scream, panicking again, causing him to laugh loudly, having much more fun than he expected. “Jesus Christ… I'm not gonna fly with you ever in my life again, I swear it!”

Your hands now are firmly gripping your seat, as if in case of a falling to the ocean this could help you. What a clown.

“Hey, you…” Your now future husband claims your attention grabbing your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss the back of it. “I love you, Mrs. Morales”.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17

TRIPLE FRONTIER: @phoenixhalliwell @goldielocks2004 @pedritomando @spideysimpossiblegirl @im-an-adult-ish

FRANKIE MORALES: @agirllovespancakes

#francisco catfish morales #francisco 'catfish' morales #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #frankie morales #triple frontier imagine #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fluff

[mammonsvulva]

Hi there! I just discovered your page and i loved the bachata headcannon!

On that same line, can you do a female latina headcannon? Like, more specifically, Colombian, you know, an MC that's like normally fluent in english but when mad she just burst on angry spanish screaming session with latin curses and a strong accent and also just getting really mad if deemed as Mexican by default? I'd love that! Thank youuuu (also feel free to ignored this if it's not of your fancy)

I hope you have a great day!

Of course! I really hope you like it! :)

(I tried to incorporate things some of my relatives say as Colombians please don’t hate me🥲)

The Brothers + Datables and a Latina MC with Colombian Habits

Lucifer❤️

Lucifer has always been amused by the boldness MC portrayed, that is until Mammon pissed her off

MC actually f*cking explodes, calling Mammon “culicagao” (like a bratty kid) and a bunch of profanities out of rage

Actually leaves Lucifer surprised, who could she hate so much that she’d put a curse on them?

Is actually kind of scared to speak up after she went silent, kinda just stares at her like “what the fuck do I do”

“I’ve told Mammon A THOUSAND TIMES. IM NOT F*CKING MEXICAN”

(Oooohh Mammons gonna get his ASS WHOOPED)

“MAAAAAAMMMMOOOOONNN????”

Mammon💛

Could learn a thing or two from MC, had some strong clap backs

Is counting his money when OUT OF NOWHERE MC just starts incanting a literal curse

Literally has his quaking in his boots dude, like he’s genuinely terrified

He can’t keep up with anything she’s saying and feels like his time to die has come

Doesn’t say A WORD when she calms down, jumps when she starts apologizing for reacting like that

“W-w-what happened? ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )”

“I LOST 10 GRAND IN BLACK JACK! ITS FUCKING RIGGED!”

Is genuinely more cautious for a while, kind of traumatized him

Mammon thought it’d be a great Idea to take her to meet one of his witches, MC already didn’t like her but listen to this

First thing the witch said was “Aren’t you that Mexican transfer student or whatever?”

(‘Oooh Ms. Girl you fucked up’)

Leviathan💙

Wishes he could have MCs confidence, ‘how does she respond like that 0•0’

He’s reading Manga while MC just lost on the same level for the 5th time

Accidentally shifts to his demon for he got so scared

Has to whip his tail up and grab the controller before she could slam it, genuinely terrified for his well being

Once she calms down she goes to give him a hug, to help with her frustration

*PANICS* “I-I can h-help you with that level, if y-you want..”

MC watches as he beats it with ease and heaves a sigh of relief, literally such a stupid game

Gets just as offended as MC when somebody said “I went to Mexico on vacation once, what was it like growing up there?”

Will let her handle it and he’ll be her Moral Support <3

Satan💚

Loved that MC was always ready, he was like that too being the Avatar of Wrath

Is genuinely amused when MC burst out swearing because she got a bad grade, he actually thought it was hilarious

Thinks of like a game to keep up with everything she’s shouting, makes her more upset

“What the fuck are you laughing at juemadre de la-“

“You’re Hot when you’re mad, Did you know that?”

Makes her go silent immediately, why is he like this, making people wanna act up on DIAVOLO

When they’re BOTH mad at something it’s like a f*cking BOMB RAID bro

They both just keep adding more, even when Satans speaking a Demon Dialect and MC is speaking Spanish LMAOO

When an arrogant soul decides to purposely mislabel MC as Mexican, the fool needs to count his seconds with MC and Satan both getting on his ass

Asmodeus💞

Has always liked the spunk MC had, it entertained him to watch her bicker with his brothers

Surprised, but not happy AT ALL with the fact that MC could blow up like that

Gets on MC for lashing out, “MC! THIS IS TERRIBLE FOR YOUR SKIN, DO YOU WANT WRINKLES?”

Gets MC to tell him what made her loose her cool like that

“That stupid b*tch from class posted saying “That Mexican transfer student isn’t pretty enough to be this annoying”

Almost explodes as bad as MC did

“MS. GIRL SHE SAID WHAT? Lemme hop on Devilgram and end her career real quick💖”

Devilgram post- Asmodeus 19:34: “Aw sweetie, Not everybody can be as gorgeous as MC and muah, but don’t go trying to drag her in the dirt with you. Filthy🥱”

No mercy on the haters💔

Beelzebub🧡

Like Asmo, found it entertaining to see MC bicker with his brothers every now and then

MC just couldn’t keep calm anymore when she messed up the recipe she was working on AGAIN

Beel becomes more concerned than scared, ‘Is she ok? :(‘

Gets up to hug MC, hoping it’ll help calm her down a bit

She explains that she kept ruining the dessert no matter how hard she tried

“MC, it’s ok to do it wrong, because it helps you learn how to do it right :)”

She’s tried again, except this time with Beel to help her :)

Gets upset when someone defaults MC as Mexican, knowing how much she hates it

He may be a teddy bear but man don’t f*ck with his Chef

Belphegor💜

Thought MC was amusing with the way she made sure everyone knew she wouldn’t take any BS

MC just happened to stub her toe while Belphie was sleeping, and now he’s awake, and heated

“What the f*ck happened?”

Is actually more concerned than upset, she wouldn’t lash out like that for no reason

When MC explains that a picture of her in the RAD Catalog still ended up being there even though she made it clear she was against it

“Oh, MC- you look good in every photo, I wouldn’t be upset about it”

Assures her it’s not a big deal and then invites her to come take a nap with him

Will mean mug the f*ck out of anyone who assumes MC is Mexican, because he finds extremely disrespectful (as it is)

Might commit homicide if they keep saying Mexican but I ain’t no snitch

+

Diavolo♥️

At first took MC as disrespectful, but learned it was only when she felt she was being disrespected (then by all means, go off)

Surprisingly, Diavolo speaks Spanish, but he still kind of struggles to keep up

He’s just laughing the whole time too, like MC isn’t furious

Later, MC calmly explains just some random student pissed her off again

“Who is this student you say? Do I need to have a chat with them as the Demon Lord of The Devildom? :)?”

Dia actually admires how passionate MC is about her home country, agrees that it’s disrespectful to mislabel someone

Because he can, Dia starts to learn about Colombian culture and throwing parties just for MC

Starts saying shit like “politas pa la rumba!” (I’ll buy beers for everyone¿) just to sound cool to MC

Barbatos💟

Barb doesn’t understand how someone could be so beautiful but so hostile sometimes, overall doesn’t really mind though

Is surprised that such things could conde from MC, kind of chuckles thinking about it

He figured he should try and step in to calm the situation

“Is there anything I can do to ease you, MC?”

It ended up being that Diavolo was completely ignoring her and brushing her aside when he never did that with Solomon

Asks if she’d like him to talk to Dia about it, since he may approach it better than she will

Barb will quietly correct anybody who believes her to be Mexican, just so MC won’t have to deal with their arrogance herself

Takes his free time and makes dishes from Colombia, or Colombian themed cookies or cupcakes to make MC happy :)

Simeon🤍

Is trying to teach MC better ways to respond to idiots, more Angelic ways

When MC blows up for the first time in front of him, the literal shock she sent him into omfg

*GASP* “MC?! WHY ARE YOU SAYING SUCH VILE THINGS?”

Like, HELLOOO? SHE DARES TO SAY SUCH THINGS IN AN ANGELS PRESENCE?

Helps to calm her down after showing distaste for her words

“You’re lips are to beautiful to speak such sinful things”

Will go on to give MC a long but kind lecture about why exploding like that is bad for her Aura and whatever

Will politely make it known that someone was wrong for assuming MC is Mexican, does get a bit irritated though

He now goes up to MC when she’s getting upset, to remind her to breathe and comfort her with a deep hug :)

“See? It’s ok MC~ just breathe in and out for me, ok? :)”

Solomon⚛️

Will piss MC off on purpose just to see her pop off, he LOVES it

Literally her #1 cheerleader when she blows up, adding on to what she’s upset about

“Period MC” “No way she said that! What a fugly b*tch” “Right, she’s just a hater”

Hypes her up all the time, even when she’s obviously in the wrong

Sol needs ALL the tea, pulls up like “who we talking shit about?”

Will get on someone’s ass just because, now think about when someone mislabels MC😳💥

Gives MC a sense of pride hearing him say “Cagué” when he messes up a potion, he obviously picked that up from her

Luke⛅️

Gets kinda (really) scared when MC becomes a little aggressive

Actually bursts out crying because he was scared MC was mas at him

MC traumatized this kid so bad, he ran to Simeon like he was getting chased be some demons

“M-m-mom is really m-mad and *sobs* I’m s-scared *sobs more*”

MC IMMEDIATELY feels super bad because she scared away his soul

Simeon, having talked to her about it already, mouthed “Apologize now.” In a very not polite manner, kinda scaring MC too🚫🧢

Has MC apologizing PROFUSELY, trying to explain it wasn’t Luke’s fault

Once he calms down, they go to bake cookies like usual, except this time he’s sniffing the whole time :( 💔

I really hope this fit what you asked for :( </3

#obey me headcanons #obey me #om! #shall we date #swd mc #obey me lucifer #shall we date lucifer #obey me mammon #shall we date mammon #obey me leviathan #shall we date leviathan #obey me satan #shall we date satan #obey me asmodeus #shall we date asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #shall we date beelzebub #obey me belphegor #shall we date belphegor #obey me diavolo #shall we date diavolo #obey me barbatos #shall we date barbatos #obey me side characters #obey me simeon #shall we date simeon #obey me solomon #shall we date solomon #obey me luke #shall we date luke

[alesreadings]

Kingdom of the Cursed by Kerri Maniscalco.

3.5. stars.

“Tell me,” he whispered, his voice sliding like silk over my flushed skin. “What?” My own voice came out breathless. “I am your favorite sin.”

I heard from a friend of a friend, that that dick was a 10 out of 10. —Ale to Wrath, 2021. A little reminder: my review has many spoilers (I'm gonna hide them as "spoiler" or I'm gonna warn you with the yellow emoji, or maybe I forget to tag them because I'm THAT distracted), so, you've been warned, pal. That being stated, I have more things to say. Take a seat. I've waited for almost a year this book because the cliffhanger of Kingdom of the Wicked was *chef kiss* and I was already drooling and simping for daddy Wrath (JAJKSDHKJDF jk or not???). If you wanna join the Wrath team, let me know, I need to fangirl... So, my hype for this book was over the top of the sky; it was fucking enormous. Emilia finally traveled to the underworld, or hell as you will or think, and she thinks she's being escorted by Wrath, but little does she know. Since moment one, you can feel the tension between Emilia and Wrath, and grabs you like a fucking claw. It's wonderful. So, they both travel for the Sin Corridor (for me, 'sin' in Spanish means 'without' so I was reading it like "el corredor sin o vacío" JAJKSHKJDFH follow me for more Spanish classes) and Wrath warns Emilia that the sins are gonna try to test her. aNYHOW, I'M NOT GONNA RESUME THE BOOK FOR Y'ALL BC SPOILER, SO NO. This book is mainly character driven, and it wasn't bad at all. Actually, it was pRETTY GOOD, more than I expected. Nevertheless, if I wanted to punch and kick the shit out Emilia in the first book, here I was on the fucking verge of tears, I swear that I was screaming in silence because our heroine can't put two and two together at first, so it makes you wanna slap her (or beat the shit out of her, just like me). The development of Emilia was also good tho I can't say the same of all of her braincells, so... Y'all figure it out soon if you haven't read it yet. However, I shelved this book as "badass female mc" and "stupid female mc" because Emilia vibed in both sides tbh. The slowburn was SO SO SO SO SO SO fucking good that I was crying, dying, screaming and the devil knows what else, but I was trapped. The romance was gorgeous, bEAUTIFUL. And the way Kerri got me wanting to put both assholes in the same room so they could finally bone was amazing. Their relationship/romance gave me "State of Grace by Taylor Swift" vibes. The fact that I was simping for Pride was funny JAJKSJDHJKDFH. Idk why but I was like "yeah, I'll marry you, honey, come here" aND MY PHONE AND THE HELL ARE WITNESSES OF IT, OMG. I can't say much about the plot because how I said up, it was more character driven and the plot was quickly solved (at least from Emilia because I solved this puzzle really quick, we'll talk about my theories below this) towards the end of the book sooooo. ⚠️⚠️⚠️ oK, SO, HERE ARE SOME SPOILERS, BITCHES, YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.⚠️⚠️⚠️ I had many theories since book 1 (yup, I had drank a lot of coffee that day, so my mind was at 100% creating scenarios and theories, and guess what? today too!) and here it was the same, so, you can imagine. And I guess y'all had the same theories. 1. Wrath being the devil. Was I the only one who saw it coming? (Pietro reference, if u know, u know, and how it hurts me) I mean, c'mon, the hints were there. The snake tattoo (I'll talk about that after), Wrath's response to Emilia calling him "Samael", the fact that he hid his interest on the cornicellos, etc. The hints were there! 2. Vittoria being alive. oK, HEAR ME OUT. Before y'all start to say "but she was pretty dead on the first book", yeS, SHE WAS, EVEN I THOUGHT IT AND SHED A TEAR FOR THAT BITCH, but we were tricked and now she deserves all the hell Emilia has for her. Idk why, but the hints kinda were there?? I don't quite remember if Vittoria told Emilia (I might be imagining all of this, so please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong; I have terrible memory, LOL let this be no surprise to you) that she was up to something, or just gave the hints and vibes. IDK, BUT THAT MF ALWAYS GAVE ME BAD VIBES. 3. Emilia being bethroded to Wrath and not my boi Pride. Did y'all see this

coming? I

surely did. fROM THE BEGINNING SHE DID THE SPELL FOR IT (by accident tho) and wasn't like "yeah, you can cancel it because he's an ordinary dude", HA! of course not. We're talking about one of the Seven Princes of Hell; this is another deal. I had other theories, but idk where are them since I wrote them down. If I find them, I'll get back and include them. This book reminded me of ACOTAR and 🤢🤢🤢 (y'all know that I can't stand those books, except for Nesta) lemme explain why. First of all, the matching tattoos🙄🙄🙄. The dark haired dude with supreme ruler vibes (since book 1 I imagined Wrath blond 😳🥺😳🥺 and I kept forgetting that he was not blond), the "choice" thing that HE brought up every 5 seconds, that I was getting tired of aND THAT HE BROKE UP! I was enjoying it until my brain said "bruh, this is like acotar" and decided to fall in a slump for two days, refusing it to move on, but eventually I forgot about it and moved on. Also, chapter 17 was COMPLETELY unnecessary. I felt totally disgusted and found NO point in the book, including chapter 18. 🤢🤢🤢 that lowered my rant. ⚠️⚠️⚠️END OF SPOILERSSSSSS.⚠️⚠️⚠️ Finally, I have something else. Idk if it's just me, but I feel like many authors make the male love interest more likeable and bearable than the female mc. Like, that's the intention at all? Making me simp over the dude? I'd marry Wrath tbh, why would I lie about it? I like him 💀💀💀 So, yes, sir, I'd marry you right now if I could. I felt kind of disappointed tbh. I expected more, but it wasn't that bad. I have to wait another fucking year to read the third book and 💀💀💀💀 Now, if y'all excuse me, I'm gonna summon a Prince of Hell (Pride, perhaps) and marry him, yas. P.S: the fact that I wrote this entire review in English (without using a dictionary to help me with some words) make me proud of myself. Wait, is this a signal to summon and marry Pride? yes.

#kingdom of the cursed #kerri maniscalco #3.5 stars #edit #edits #mine #demons #fantasy #historical romance #historical fiction #historical #magic #witches #witchcraft #reviews #review #fiction #romance #new adult #slowburn #series #stupid female mc #badass female mc #my embarrasing guilty pleasures