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#so many of my friendships were formed out of convenience and habit...I would like people that actually see me for who I am
dawndelion-winery · 1 month
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How To Ask You Out
Scaramouche × GN! Reader
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Scara would never doubt himself when it came to you. He might be uncertain about many things, but the burning passion he harboured for you was unquestionable. So much so that it had never really occurred to him that you did not necessarily feel his affection for you; surely, you must have caught on already?
It was difficult for him to accept that his habit of repressing his emotions had made all of his gestures and hints far too subtle for you to catch onto. How unfortunate it was, so many of his unspoken confessions fell unnoticed, like the leaves in autumn being shed one by one. He had tried numerous different ways, each method failing to hold your attention enough for you to notice it was more than a fleeting whim on his part.
Truly, how could you not feel the warmth in his hand when he reached for yours to lead you to something he wanted to show you? Could you not feel his excitement to share whatever it was he had stumbled upon in the way he tapped your shoulder or upper arm? There was no way you did not know how averse he was to physical contact with people, yet he touched you so easily, as if being close to you was as natural as breathing. Did that mean nothing to you? He adored how he could lay his head in your lap as you brushed his bangs out of his face with such a gentle caress he was certain you had to have felt the same way. In those moments, he bit his tongue, unable to form the words that would give him the clarity he sought. It was so simple, an easy fix, a straightforward solution to his dilemma, and yet the hardest thing he had ever had to do.
"I love you," he'd murmur every night once you'd fallen asleep. And perhaps that was the reason you could've sworn you dreamt of him confessing to you, sparking a spiral of thoughts about dating him. Slowly but surely, you developed feelings too.
However, your friend, as cold as he was, was equal parts dense, too busy wallowing in his pining to notice his affections were reciprocated. Each day, he ached for you, and had he not been cut loose of his puppet strings, he'd most certainly have handed the reins to you if only it would make you finally see the extent of his devotion that went beyond simple friendship.
Once more he found himself scowling as you introduced him as your dearest friend. He had to admit, there was some inkling of pride in being the dearest among your dear friends, but he'd always been inclined to greed, tempted to perpetually reach for more having been so accustomed to losing everything.
"Your hair's a mess," he commented, seemingly apathetically. You'd woken up late and hadn't had time to check yourself in any reflective surface as you threw on whatever was on top of your dresser and headed out. He thought it was cute, not that it seemed that way.
"I was in a rush," you huffed, averting your eyes as you mused a hand through your hair hoping it'd neaten somewhat.
"Here." How convenient his anemo vision was, for him to hover around you to get the perfect angles on your hair as he helped you tidy it. There was a gentle dexterity in his touch so unlike the gruffness in his words that you knew was far more reflective of who he was than the prickly persona he put up.
"Thanks," you said as your eyes met his. And for a second, you wondered what you could do if you'd had no fear. Would he catch you if you let yourself fall headfirst? You had no way of knowing, and yet the breeze around you blew your worries away. "You're act like you're my boyfriend sometimes."
He froze up at your words, some unknown expression dancing across his face. "Maybe I should be," he murmured. His azure eyes locked onto yours, voice as soft as his gentle caress, brushing a few stray strands out of your face. Except there wasn't anything on your face to brush away - nothing but his cool, slender fingers. His touch seemed to crackle with electricity, but you were certain it was nothing more than your imagination; his gentleness was more akin to the sweet spring gales that made the flowers dance to the songs of leaves.
"Yeah..." you responded, " maybe you should."
Scara's eyes lit up at your response, his excitement laced with wariness. There was an inkling of uncertainty as he scanned your face, as though anxiously seeking any subtle signs of deception.
"Maybe I will be, then," he said finally. And who would've thought? It seems asking you out was much easier than he'd gotten himself worked up over.
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Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyamori @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating
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hausofneptune · 3 months
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aspects/placements i love (and hate!) in my chart pt. 1 | astro notes 003
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hey y’all! i felt like going through some of my personal aspects/placements and describing the “positive” and “negative” ways they’ve manifested in my life, so here we are. this ended up being longer than i thought it would, so i'll end up doing a part two since i really enjoyed making this!
disclaimers | masterlist | ask
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venus conj. neptune in aquarius (1°03’) in the 1H
this is one of my favorite placements. i feel like this + my pisces sun can make me appear to others as “ethereal” at times, but if i’m keeping it a buck, it also makes me extremely evasive. i have a good amount of aquarius influence in my chart as well, so all of this combined definitely makes me feel like i have to put in effort to not come off as too impersonal, especially towards my loved ones. 
having neptune in my 1H also makes me feel like people perceive me to be someone that i’m not. like even my close friends and family, i don’t feel like anyone actually understands who i am, and i don’t think i’ve ever had a relationship (platonic, romantic, or familial) where i felt like i was seen for who i actually am, or where i was able to connect to somebody on a deeper, spiritual level. i can also over-romanticize people and situations at times, but i’ve grown out of this habit… for the most part.
i’ve always been an extremely creative/artistic person. i’ve been drawing, painting, writing, and singing since i was a kid, and i even sell my artwork now as an adult. i’m extremely imaginative, but i do have to be careful to not get too in my head and forget to participate in reality, if that makes sense. i’ve also had issues with dissociation and memory loss throughout my life. i feel like my lived experience has more to do with that, but i can see how the Neptunian influence in my chart could play a role in it as well.
venus opposite north node in the 7H (1°40’)
there are some placements that convince me that the universe was tryna be funny when it made my birth chart. this is one of them. i have so many things in my chart that can make it challenging at times to form meaningful, trustful relationships with other people, and it’s interesting to me the fact that my spiritual growth is something that’s supposed to be found… through my relationships with other people. i try not to victimize myself too much and look at things from an objective lens, but i would be lying if i said it didn’t feel like people find it convenient to have me in their lives only when i allow them to view me in a way that makes them feel the most comfortable.
like i mentioned, i can be very avoidant, it’s something i’m working on. but i know that it’s possible for me to have fulfilling connections with other people, and obviously with this placement it’s something i need to work through my aversion to, seeing as my self-development and spiritual growth is something that’s extremely important to me and deep down i do want to want to experience having meaningful, healthy relationships. 
sun sextile lilith (within 3.0°) in the 11H / chiron in the 11H
let me tell you, most of the people i’ve been friends with over the years, regardless of gender, hypersexualize the fuck out of me. especially the men i’ve been friends with, majority of them had feelings for me that i never reciprocated. i was actually friends with a girl in high school who’s moon fell in my 8H, and in hindsight she had a very unhinged, borderline obsession with me. she would speak to me, and get mad at me, as if we were in a relationship together, and did not understand any type of boundaries that you’re supposed to have with someone you’re friends with. i don’t hold it against her now as an adult, but we definitely don’t speak to each other anymore.
i’ve also encountered issues in regards to the relationships i've with women, mainly when i was younger though, the women i’m acquainted with now i have healthy, normal friendships with (thank god). but i’ve had friendships with girls where they secretly didn’t like me, they were secretly attracted to me, or both. and i don't mean this in a weird, misogynistic, "pick me i'm different!" type of way at all, this is just a pattern i picked up on with some of the women i've met throughout my life.
in regards to having chiron in my 11H, my sore spot is most definitely my friendships. on top of feeling misunderstood and objectified in the friendships i’ve had, i’ve also experienced trauma at the hands of people i thought were my friends. and i always do my best to exercise being mindful and self-aware, and i’m definitely not on some “i’ve always been the perfect friend and people hurt me regardless, boo-hoo, woe-is-me” type shit, because i’ve definitely hurt people in my lifetime. but in terms of how these placements have manifested, i’ve always encountered difficulty in connecting to others, and i’m just now getting to a point where i feel comfortable enough to even attempt to try making new friends again. 
and this is what i mean when i say: astrology is a tool that you can use for shit that is more important than your appearance and future partner! it wasn’t until my 12H profection year when i started studying traditional astrology and learned how to read charts, that i actually began to understand myself on a deeper level and gained the confidence to end friendships that no longer served me and made new ones that actually do. 
chiron in my 11H also makes me feel inclined to take on a “therapist” role in my friendships, something that can be good or bad depending on whether the boundaries are there or not. i tend to attract people who like to trauma dump on me (that’s my moon in the 8H influence too), and i have to actively put boundaries in place and make sure people around me understand that i have to be in the right mindset to hold space for them. there aren’t a lot of pisces sun stereotypes that i can relate to, but being an emotional sponge is definitely one that i can. unfortunately. 
moon and ceres in virgo in the 8H 
LMAOOO this one might be a little heavy. i apologize in advance. feel free to skip this one if you don’t want to hear about parental/maternal loss or my mommy issues <3
my relationship with my mom is without a doubt where a lot of my emotional avoidance comes from. that plus my moon being in the 8H makes me very guarded when it comes to emotional vulnerability, even with the people i’m closest to. without telling a bunch of strangers on the internet too much of my business, here are the sparknotes:
my home life growing up (and to this day lowkey) never felt stable
it never felt like i could feel my emotions without them “consuming” me, this was mainly an issue in my youth, i was around 12-years-old when i started going to therapy and taking antidepressants  
my mom battled a chronic disease her entire life and passed away when i was a teenager 
i’ve always craved to have deep, spiritual connections with people, and ever since i was a kid i’ve been extremely intuitive and had the ability to read a room and everyone in it without anyone having to speak, but i typically attract people who are either emotionally unavailable, or emotionally unstable in some way, probably because i come off as “closed off” on the surface. 
in terms of my relationship with my mom, i love her but i could never be vulnerable with her about a damn thing, like i never really felt “heard” by her. she was a taurus sun, scorpio moon, with an aries stellium, as soon as she had her mind made up about something it didn’t really matter how i felt (pluto also falls in my 10H, and i definitely viewed her as an “authority figure” more than a mother at times). y’all remember this scene from lady bird where her mom tells her she wants her to “be the best version of herself she can be” and she asks “what if this is the best version?” - it was very much so that.
and i don’t want to give the impression that my mom didn’t love me because she definitely did. i think it was just a matter of what a lot of us eventually come to understand about our parents; that they’re products of the environments and the people they were raised by. and in my mom’s case, she did her best with the cards she was dealt and showed up the best way she could. it doesn’t make my feelings any less important, but it helps to maintain the balance between recognizing her humanity, and also validating my own frustration and trauma regarding our relationship. 
venus conjunct ascendant in aquarius (2°40’)
i didn't wanna end this post on a depressing ass note so i'm adding this last aspect lmfao. honestly i struggle with some of the venusian energy in my chart because i honestly never really felt "pretty" growing up. it might be neptune in my 1H that effects my self image, because it wasn't until my 20s that i actually started to genuinely recognize my beauty. i feel like growing up i only viewed my beauty through the lens of the "male gaze" (it didn't help that i felt objectified from the boys around me), or through the lens of euro-centric/white beauty standards, and in adulthood i'm finally approaching the way that i view myself from my perspective.
i do notice that i attract people very easily, both in a friendly and romantic way. i know this aspect has to do a lot with love and romance, but honestly, i'm not too concerned about being in a relationship at this point in my life (with the way the economy is set up i think we all got bigger fish to fry rn but that's neither here nor there-), but like i mentioned i've always been an artist at heart and the art that i create plays a really big role in my identity. i've always found it easier to express myself through my paintings or my writing rather than my words.
aesthetics and comfortability are pretty big for me too, more so now in my 20s. this aspect has a lot to do with sociability and being inclined to uplift and help others, and i can relate to the latter but when it comes to other aspects in my chart i do struggle with being "outgoing" and coming across friendly, but we'll get to that in part two.
as always, if y'all have any of the aspects/placements mentioned in this post let me know how they manifest in your life and personality, and if you have any insight or questions in general feel free to reach out!
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lgcxnoeul · 6 months
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ESQUIRE KOREA / AUGUST 2023 [ EXCLUSIVE ] GET TO KNOW NOVA IUVENTA's HAN NOEUL
INTERVIEWER: I'M CURIOUS ABOUT YOUR PERSONALITY. HAVE YOU EVER TAKEN A PERSONALITY TEST?
Ah, like MBTI? C-U-T-E. Actually, I had to take the quiz for a class in university. I'm still a bit shocked that it's so popular after all these years. I ended up with ENTP-A, the debater personality. I wonder if my personality has changed since then... I just don't have the patience to sit down and fill out the questionnaire again. I'm not a person that believes all of us need to fit in a box, but harmless labels like that can be fun as long as we don't get carried away, right?
INTERVIEWER: DO YOU HAVE A RECENT TMI YOU WOULD LIKE TO SHARE WITH FANS?
I always walk around with my headphones on, which is a bad habit, I know... I went to a convenience store to buy a snack. I couldn't hear the employee warning me about the wet floor and ended up ungracefully colliding into a shelf. Instead of sharing an embarrassing tidbit, this is a warning to everyone like me to turn off the music when you see mouths moving. Now I can't show my face to the convenience store and have to go to another store until the employee forgets my face.
INTERVIEWER: YOU SEEM TO WEAR A LOT OF NEUTRALS. DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE COLOR?
...I do, but I can't exactly wear my favorite color without being seen from space. It's neon green! Neutral colors are more acceptable at every hour of the day, right?
INTERVIEWER: IF YOU HAD TO EAT A DISH FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
It's probably an unexpected answer, but my father cooks a pasta dish. I'm positive that the only ingredients are pasta, butter, cheese, and black pepper. He made it for my mother when the two of them met and that was the one dish that we had when the two of them were too busy to make anything else, but didn't want to order?
INTERVIEWER: DO YOU HAVE A HIDDEN TALENT?
I learned that I'm really good at retaining information. I actually enjoy learning languages, but I do have to actively speak it in order for me to not forget after I stop taking the courses. I want to get better at Japanese!
INTERVIEWER: WHAT IS YOUR PERSONAL FASHION STYLE?
I wish I had a personal fashion style. I tend to enjoy buying clothing second-hand because I love how broken in the fabrics are. You can always find something unique. I like sweatpants a bit too much. A matching sweater is a full outfit... Graphic t-shirts with funny sayings, or cool art is a must too. However, you would probably balk at how many white, gray, and black t-shirts I have in my closet.
INTERVIEWER: IS THERE ANYTHING YOU WANT TO ACHIEVE THIS YEAR?
Should I be upfront about what I actually want to achieve this year? I don't think I can, but acting has been fun for me. I hope that I can try a different role in the future. I'm willing to do different types of roles if casting directors are listening...
INTERVIEWER: WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN YOU WANT TO RELAX?
I-If I'm being honest, I don't know how to relax. The majority of the time I spend time with friends, or try to take a nap when they aren't available. I barely succeed with the later... I'm trying out new hobbies to see which I enjoy doing. If anyone has any suggestions, I'm willing to try it once.
INTERVIEWER: ARE THERE ANY RESEMBLANCE TO YOUR CHARACTER IN NOVA IUVENTA: CHAPTER 1?
The two of us are both extroverted people... Okay, he is a lot like me. He values his friends and his love language is spending quality time with them. I don't know if he should have meddled too much with other people's relationships, but if your friend is acting shi- terrible. It's your responsibility to let them know, I think. He didn't have many scenes, but I do think that as a supporting character without a romantic storyline was important because love comes in many forms. At the end, the viewers saw that love stemming from a friendship can withstand the trials and tribulations in that bumpy ride we call life.
INTERVIEWER: HOW DO YOU DIFFER FROM THE CHARACTER IN THE NOVA IUVENTA: CHAPTER 1?
I honestly don't think we differed much, but I will say that currently, I'm more envious of the character's life. I wish I could spend more time with my friends on the beach, or having these spontaneous experiences with other people whether the ending is... full of awkwardness, or full of surprises. I want to be more open living in the present without worrying about the future.
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hyunsuks-beanie · 2 years
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Come With Me
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Culinary major! Soobin x food vlogger! reader; just some teeth rotting fluff
Word Count: 3.35k words
Mellow speaks: So I finally completed this long overdue and super fun request!!! Honestly, writing this was just so amazing, and I kinda drew Y/N based on my own self, so I hope you enjoy reading it!!
Rushing into his apartment, Soobin didn't waste a single minute in discarding his bag on the floor, rushing towards his laptop and turning it on. As the screen booted, the final-year culinary major prayed to the gods for the livestream to not have started yet. The winner of the contest from last month was to be announced at the beginning of the stream, and even though Soobin didn't have any hopes of him winning, he couldn't help the tiny voice at the back of his head saying, "What if?."
He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a voice, sweet and velvety as always. There you were, on his screen, the biggest of smiles plastered on your face, making him feel warm all over. Y/N L/N, his favorite food vlogger in the world, ready to start another livestream. Soobin had always been more of a silent supporter, his introverted self being too shy to even post a comment under any of your videos, partly because you had a habit of replying to as many of those comments as possible, and he knew for a fact that he would combust on the spot if you were to ever reply to his praises of you.
You see, he greatly admired your love for food and your wanderlust. He was also a great fan of the way you spoke, and the way you articulated your ideas and thoughts. Truth be told, he genuinely liked you, and not just your voyager self. Watching your videos over the years, he had found himself developing a small crush on you, knowing full well that it was probably just him being starstruck. So, gathering all the bravery he had, the boy had finally pressed "Send" on the application form for the competition on the last day, after contemplating it for God knows how long.
There had been only one question on the form, asking respondents to describe what food meant to them. A smile had graced Soobin's lips as you answered it, pouring in his most sincere thoughts on everything culinary. What had pushed him to participate, you ask? It had been the prize, of course. A chance to hang out with none other than you yourself, through a one-on-one video call. He had always wanted to see you in person, to tell you how much your vlogs meant to him. How they had helped discover his own love for food, had helped him find his happiness in the kitchen.
And that had brought him to right now, biting on his fingernails as he listened to your regular introduction, one that he knew by heart and repeated after you, subconsciously. "Hey my food-holics! How are all of you doing today? Hale and hearty, I hope!," you said, following up quickly with a brief overview of the contest, before announcing the winner, as Soobin waited with bated breath. "All your answers were amazing, and I could relate to so many of them! It really sucks that we can only have one winner, since you're all winners to me!," you smiled, and he caught himself copying your expression. "So now, the winner of the contest, and the person who gets to be my new friend, is @aglio_olive!!," you exclaimed, clapping your hands as your eyes crinkled up in joy.
The fact that you had just announced him as the winner of registered belatedly, as Soobin was busy gushing over how adorable you had looked while clapping. He felt his mouth drop open, finding it hard to focus on what you said next. "I'll be contacting you via email shortly," you had said, and that was all it took for the rest of the livestream to go by in a blur for him, as he waited for your mail, checking and re-checking his inbox every two minutes. But it wasn't until the next day that he finally received what he had been peeling his eyes out for. An email from your official account (or that's what he figured), informing him that the meeting would take place on the coming Saturday, at 6:00 pm. Now all he had to do was wait three days, but it was easier said than done.
By the time Saturday rolled around, Soobin was equal parts bubbling with excitement and panicking with nerves. Reluctant to trust his own fashion choices, he had called over his best friend, Yeonjun, hoping to get some much needed guidance. "Should I wear this suit? Or will simple tracks be better?," he had asked, making the older boy shake his head as he patted him on the back. "My friend, Y/N's neither your professor, nor your friend. You're meeting them for the first time, so why don't you just wear something comfortable, that would make them feel at ease too?," he smirks, throwing a plain blue hoodie his way.
As the clock struck 6:00, Soobin found himself seated at his study table, ready to start the meeting. He had even prepared cue cards to help him if he got stuck, and they were propped conveniently next to the laptop. He reached out for them, but just at that moment, his screen came alive with someone waving at him with a smile on their face. Awestruck, he simply waved back, too tongue-tied to say anything. "Wow," he thought to himself, "They look so much better without makeup." A couple seconds later, a new kind of panic set in. "Am I staring too hard? Is it creepy? Should I look down? No but I need to keep eye contact!"
Little did he know, you were having similar, if not identical thoughts. "Wow, no one told me he was gonna be this cute. Blue suits him so well! I'm no staring, am I? Should I speak first? Or should I wait for him to say something?" This finally resulted in the both of you speaking at the same time, something you would later smile about. Because saying "How are you? I'm Soobin," and "I'm Y/N! How are you?," helped you crack into laughter, breaking the ice and easing the awkwardness. Once you had gotten past the niceties, it was time to get to know each other better. The cue cards lay unused, as Soobin just spoke about whatever came to mind, praising your vlogs and thanking you for teaching him more about cuisines. You, on the other hand, took the time to get to know him better, asking him questions about what it was like to study culinary science, something you had never gotten the chance to do.
The hour-long virtual meeting flew by in the blink of an eye, or so it seemed to the both of you. Talking to you, Soobin didn't once feel that you were a stranger or that he was just a fan. You seemed like a genuine and warm person to him that he couldn't help but admire you even more than he did before. To him, somewhere during the meeting, you stopped seeming like a famous vlogger anymore, and instead, all he saw you as was a friend. You, on the other hand, had made up your mind about him being the most interesting person you had ever met, and couldn't stop a sad sigh from escaping your lips as you looked at the time. "Well, Soobin. It's been a pleasure meeting you," you had said, making him smile wistfully.
The moment he had logged out of the meeting, he found himself missing you. He thought back on how nice you had been, smiling when he pictured your face, your hair slightly messy but not too unkempt, an oversized hoodie thrown over your body. To him, it had honestly felt like he was conversing with a friend, and he couldn't bring himself to let such an amazing person walk out of his life. So, without thinking, he began typing out an email to your account, his finger hovering just above the "Send" button. He stopped short though, realizing that your official account wasn't meant for personal mails, and realizing that he had no other means to contact you. Pouting, he fell face-first onto the bed, his energy going down all of a sudden.
He woke up to a "ping," indicating an email on his phone. Unlocking it, he noticed a mail from an account he had never contacted before. Clueless, he clicked on it, the phone nearly falling out of his hand as he read through it. It had been you, after all, reaching out to him through your personal account, and telling him that you had loved talking to him, and would like to be his friend. And thus began the most beautiful friendship either of you had ever forged, full of memories even though you hadn't met each other.
Late night video chats and good morning calls became a ritual, and Soobin found himself busily typing away on his phone every free second he got. You told him all about your escapades and trips, sending him photos and urging him to try cooking whatever you ate and whatever you liked. He, on the other hand, would teach you to cook, sending you tips and giving you suggestions on what to eat. Food was an intergalactic part of the relation you shared, but it was far from being the only thing.
When things got hard for him, you were there to push him towards his dream, reminding him day in and day out that he would have to give in his all to achieve it. "You'll be the greatest chef one day, Soob," you'd giggle, causing him to let out a whine as he said, "How would you know? You haven't even tasted my cooking yet!" He too, was there to provide you a taste of what it felt like to be grounded to one place, to have everything you wanted right next to you. He was there for you to cry to when someone posted a nasty comment under you video, and he was there to virtually feed you when you missed a home-cooked meal. Inside jokes became a thing, as did bitching about classmates and complaining about managers.
Over time, your friendship started blossoming into something more, as Soobin found himself catching feelings, real feelings, for you. The way you smiled, the way you would bite your nails just like him as you went through what people had to say about your videos, the way you cracked stupid jokes and laughed at them alone, he found himself loving them all. He had given his heart out to you, and he didn't want to take it back. You, meanwhile, had been a bit more careful of your feelings, wary of harboring any hopes for a long-distance relationship. But over time, you too, found yourself drowning into the oceans that were his eyes, watching the way his lips moved through the screen, imagining them on yours. Over time, you too, felt your feelings grow, but being your stubborn self, you didn't act on them.
Days turned into months, and soon enough, you were keeping Soobin company through his late night study sessions, talking to him in the hopes of keeping him awake. Helping him prepare flashcards, and letting him teach you a full four-course meal so that he could practice for his practical exams. "What are you gonna do once you graduate?," became a regular question you posed towards him, and every time, it was the same reply. "I don't know yet, Y/N. I want to do something like you. I want to travel the world and learn about different cuisines first-hand."
As Soobin's exams drew nearer, you found yourself bring just as worried as he was, worried about how he'd fare in the examinations, worried about what he'll do when he gets his degree. But keeping your concerns aside, you did your best to push him to do his best, study that last chapter, practice that last technique, memorize that last recipe. "I just wanna sleep, Y/N," he'd whine, only to have you let out a giggle at how adorable he looked. "It's for your own good, bub," you'd reply, your smile somehow managing to give him the strength to put in just a little extra effort.
Seeing him work so hard, you couldn't help but want to give him a surprise by congratulating him in person when he graduated. So, you decided to plan a trip to Seoul, shooting a film vlog just an excuse to finally meet your closest friend, and the person you had a crush on. You had initially wanred to keep the plan a secret, but soon realized what a waste it would be to not use it to your advantage. And so started your ingenious way of getting Soobin to hit the books. "I'm coming to Seoul after your exams, but I'll meet you only if you put in all your effort," you'd tell him, repeating it like a mantra day in and day out.
In response, the boy would pout and whine about how he "hated" you, but started putting in double the effort, just to make you proud. Your tactic seemed to work, but Soobin was still nervous. Nor about the theory, but about the practical exams. "What if I don't do well on the exam? It happens all the time on Masterchef," he said one day, looking into your eyes as you attempted to calm him down. "I know you'll nail it, Binnie," you replied, smiling at him through the screen. "Just think about what makes you happy while you cook, and you'll be good to go." As if on a whim, Soobin muttered out a soft, "You," causing your breath to hitch as you asked him to repeat. "You make me happy," he said again, looking down as he felt his cheeks growing warm. You couldn't help but smile at his sudden confession, sending a virtual kiss his way. "Now go study, you idiot," you giggled, proceeding to tell him about your day as he pored over his books.
The day of his practical exam rolled by, and as you had said, Soobin decided to cook while thinking of something that made him happy. He thought back on the day when you had told him about a delicacy from a city you had visited, and had convinced him to teach you how to make it. The memory alone made a smile appear on his lips, reminding him of how happy the two of you were. And so, that's what he cooked, passing his exam with flying colors. He was so happy he could have kissed you if you were there, and he told you that, causing a laugh to escape your lips. "I'll be there soon," was all you said, fighting to control your excitement.
Soobin passed with flying colors, earning his degree fair and square. And the one person he wanted to thank for it, was you. As you had promised him, a week later found you roaming the streets of Seoul, as you hurriedly made your way towards his college, ready to finally meet him at his convocation. Climbing up the stage to accept his degree, his eyes were busy scanning the crowds, eager to see your face. When he couldn't find you, however, he felt his smile falter, as he took in a gulp.
"Where are you Y/N?," he thought to himself, hand itching to check his phone that was lying in his back pocket. You had told him you'd be here on time, so then, where were you? Just as he feels himself falling deeper into his thoughts, he (like everyone else in the hall) hears footsteps running down the corridor, finally revealing you standing at the entrance, out of breath and with a huge smile stretching across your face. "You're here," he mouthed, his smile matching yours, as you replied with a simple nod and a "Congratulations," your eyes brimming with tears of joy for the boy.
Accepting his degree, Soobin walked off the stage to sit with his classmates, eyes meeting yours every so often as he tried to fight the urge to rush to you and hug you. Once the ceremony ended, neither of you wasted a second in finding each other, throwing yourselves into a hug long overdue. It didn't feel weird as you snuggled your face into his convocation robe, and it didn't feel weird as he did the same into your hair. Pulling away, you just couldn't hide the smiles that threatened to take over your entire face, taking each other's hand as Soobin left you to his parents. "Mom, Dad, this is my friend Y/N," he introduced, and his mom didn't miss the spark in her son's eyes as he looked at you.
Once you were done with the niceties, the two of you made your way out into the city once Soobin had handed his robe over to his mom. Walking the streets with him, with you cracking jokes and him pointing out tourist sights to you, you felt something you had never felt, no matter how many cities you visited. A sense of comfort, a sense of belonging. You felt like you were home for the first time in ages, and it was all because of the guy walking next to you. As if on a whim, you whipped out your video-camera, switching it on and turning it to yourself. Soobin belatedly realized what you were doing, when he heard you recite you introduction. Looking at you in shock, he felt his mouth fall open as he heard you say the words, "Friend," "Soobin," "Featuring," "Guide," in quick succession, piecing the sentence together in his brain.
"Y/N! What are you doing??," he whined, looking down to hide his face. "Awww Soobinnie is shy!!! Sorry guys, it's his first time," you cooed, a giggle escaping your lips as you turned your camera off, trying to convince him to feature in your vlog. "But I won't know what to say!!," he retorted, making you snicker. "Just take me out to eat somewhere tell, and tell the camera why you like the place you like and the food you like. It's not that hard!," you replied, and after much convincing (and some borderline begging), he finally agreed.
He showed you all his favorite eateries and restaurants, gawking at the insane discounts you got him, and just enjoying watching you eat in person, sharing his food. By the time evening rolled out, the two of you were full to your throats, looking out over the river from the bridge. "Thank you Y/N," Soobin said, turning to look at you. "For today, and for everyday. For being there for me, and for being the best friend I have ever had, and more." "Thank you too, Soob," you replied, your eyes stinging as you looked up at him. "Thank you for making me feel at home. Thank you for becoming my home." You hadn't noticed just how close your faces had become, both of you having leaned in subconsciously. Finally, Soobin closed the gap, your lips meeting his in a kiss that's full of the pent-up love and emotions.
His lips were soft against yours, molding with yours like two pieces of the same puzzle. Pulling away, a smile graced your lips as you looked up at him shyly, whispering an "I like you," causing him to repeat your words and adding a "too," cheeks rising up in a smile. Biting you bottom lip, you say, "Come with me," making him tilt his head in confusion. "You said you wanted to be like me. To learn about cuisines first-hand. Then come with me. I don't want to be away from you, I want to be with you 24/7, and not virtually. I want to talk to you in person, to hug you, to kiss you." You notice his smile growing wider, and so you ask, "So, what do you say?," as he replies by placing his lips back on yours.
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spacedikut · 3 years
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Derek would ask Spencer to explain how he feels about u to try and get him to understand that he’s in love with you but Spencer would just be like... is that not friendship?
god this idea is so fucking good but. i didn’t do it justice cause i went down a way more serious route :p 1.4k words, gn!reader
the team have been trying tirelessly to get spencer to just... see. what the rest of them see. the longing, lingering looks and requests to work together, the subtle touches that are so sweet in themselves but, with the added knowledge that spencer is Spencer, its...well, the team knows what they see. spencer is just lagging behind a little.
they try a whole plethora of methods. everyone talks to him and spencer either doesn’t connect the dots or simply says “we’re just friends!” and emily gets so frustrated she flicks spencer on the forehead and leaves a mark (i ask you picture pure, innocent spencer sat at his desk, watching emily’s retreating form with nothing but a puppy-dog confused expression and a red dent in the middle of his forehead).
penelope is at her wits end, so derek decides to step up and retry a very basic method: talking spencer through how he feels for you. surely he’s self-aware enough that he’ll hear himself and hear how un-friendlike it all sounds and... tada! love.
but it’s never quite as easy as you’ll think it’ll be, is it?
spencer should’ve known something was amiss when derek asked him if he wanted to hang out and let him choose where they would go - spencer? being allowed to choose where to hang out after work? have you ever heard of something called a red flag?
so spencer chooses a cafe which - immediately, the second they step through the doorway - spencer has a joy to him, telling derek about the last time you and him came here and what you ordered and what you thought of it and all these details that even the most attentive best friend wouldn’t think were anything more than trivial matters. he remembers the shape you tore your napkin into, for goodness sake. in what realm is that friendly behaviour?
then, to make matters worse, spencer, mid-walk to a table in the corner by a large window, abruptly changes directions, making derek almost spill his coffee. spencer apologies, then says they can’t sit in that booth cause that’s where you and spencer sit and - well. that’s your and spencer’s place, you can’t disrupt that! friends! friendly things and friends doing friendly stuff. friendship.
derek gives this scoff that spencer is so used to he barely reacts. when they sit, spencer is acutely aware that derek is staring - furrowed brows and this intense, firm gaze that only appears when he’s thinking. spencer’s only slightly intimidated. 
he’s never been able to lie to derek. he’s never been a good liar, period. he’s good at omissions and burying himself and his emotions but, god, if someone asks just the right question, he’ll fold like the cheap deckchair he truly is.
and derek... derek knows spencer better than he knows himself sometimes.
(is there anyone else that has similar qualities? no. of course not. only his best pal derek and not a colleague/very pretty person known as You)
a question. a question is all it takes.
“so, you and y/n come here a lot?”
derek’s starting light and spencer is so enthralled at the mention of you every worry he had about why he’s here with derek and why derek is looking at him like that flies out the window. 
“we do! actually, it’s the perfect meeting spot; the most convenient distance between our apartments and we both have favourite drinks here. we’ve become regulars, actually, so we make a habit of coming at least once a week at a minimum-“
and he keeps going, sweetly reminiscing about the first time you visited to the silly games you’ve created - because you’ll spend that long here, sitting opposite each other and just each other - and derek wonders how spencer doesn’t see it. doesn’t see the way he lights up at the mention of you, rambles like you’re a statistic spencer’s known for years and can’t help but bestow on everyone at every opportunity, not to mention the physical reaction he has to you. you’re not even present and spencer is wide-eyed, rosy cheeked, permanent curl to either side of his lips that looks involuntary.
he’s in love with you. his entire self, from head to toe, from mind to soul. everyone can see it, except you and him, apparently.
“they make you happy, huh?”
“well, obviously,” spencer hehs, “they’re my best friend.”
there’s an opportunity here, shyly gleaming from the corner of the conversation and derek digs it out. “you got a definition for best friend, reid?”
spencer’s taking a sip of his drink, but is happy to share his knowledge. he’s not quite as bright when he’s saying it. “a best friend has many definitions. friendship itself is usually defined as a relationship of mutual affection between people - it is a stronger form of interpersonal bond than an association, and has been studied in multiple academic fields-“
derek hums, encouraging him to keep going. he’ll get there.
and he does, after delving a little too far into the nature versus nurture debate.
“id consider you a best friend. jj, too. and garcia, of course. except... except with y/n it’s- it’s different.”
derek pretends to be shocked. “how’s that?”
“well... they have all the qualities id want in a friend - honesty, generosity, empathy...humour-“ spencer smiles to himself, small and intimate, remembering an inside joke between the two of you. “but they’re more than that, too. they’re there for me - not-not that you guys aren’t there for me too-“ derek just raises an eyebrow. “but...it’s different, with them. it always is.”
the shift of topic from friendship to you has spencer unfocused on his surroundings, eyes glazed over as he stares to the side of derek, who feels like he’s intruding - he rarely understands what goes on in that big head of spencer’s, vast in it’s knowledge and memories and self-perception, but right now he’s confident he does. 
it’s you. he’s thinking of you, the moments you have together - perhaps in this very cafe - that are reserved for spencer and spencer alone, a side of you derek will never know because it’s not his to know; it’s spencer’s, just as spencer is yours.
his voice is level but distant, the warning signs of that magnificent mind finding the pieces and putting them together. “i think-i think about them often. how they are, what they’re doing, if they’re thinking of me too. i know they’re only a text message away or-or, on cases, a few feet away... i guess i don’t want to seem clingy. or desperate.”
“they’d never think that. you know that, right?”
“i know. i-i know that. but-i don’t... i can’t.. i don’t want to risk losing them, i guess. one wrong move and they’ll realise what a-what a complete mess i am. ill unravel and they’ll see all the dark inside and they... they don’t deserve that.”
derek goes to interrupt, because god is spencer wrong, but he doesn’t have the chance.
“they deserve love and laughter and everything i can’t give them if they... if they get too close.” now, spencer brings himself to look derek in the eye. there’s a seriousness there, a solemn stand that spencer doesn’t often take. “i can’t lose them, morgan. i can’t.” his hands tighten around his coffee cup. “i want them here, with me, for as long as i can convince them to stay. i don’t want to be selfish, i don’t- i don’t mean to be, but. i want this. i want them. every day for the rest of my life, i want them. i choose them. im just terrified they’ll see me and... they won’t choose me.”
there’s an expected silence that befalls the two of them, the busting background noise of the cafe the only moving piece. does he get it now? does he understand what has motivated every thought and feeling? every worry and action?
“reid,” derek says, softly, in a tone that has spencer straightening his back. “that’s not... that’s not just friendship. you know that, right? you can see that?”
spencer blinks. 
no. you’re friends - close friends, yes, but friends nonetheless.
but he thinks back to what he’s just said - 
he’d say the same for jj, right? for penelope, and for derek. even gideon, perhaps.
except... no. he wouldn’t. it’s for you, he’s for you, all of it and all of him.
and then the picture is as clear as day. no fog, no obscurity, no hesitance - and spencer’s relieved. relieved that finally, finally, he can put all of his feelings into one simple sentence.
“im in love with them.”
“yeah,” derek says, leaning back against the booth. “yeah, reid, you are.”
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choperfect · 3 years
Text
One of the reasons why I think about taking my Twitter, the guys ooze an absurd hatred against the people who ship Remadora besides attacking the character herself saying that Remus used her to forget about Sirius and that, if Sirius were alive, Remus would betray Tonks. 
I’ve already read a thread something like this “reasons why Remadora is problematic”  that indirectly trivialized homophobia by leaving   between the lines that anyone who doesn't ship Wolfstar is homophobic. What makes me angrier about this whole mess is that these guys who bang their heads to justify Wolfstar seem to have never read anything about HP or consumed the books (I hate to use a JK as an argument, but she's credited) about characters besides completely ignore the psychological aspects Remus.
This happens a lot on twitter like when they say "oh Remus waited for Sirius to die to get married"?? Sorry for the language, but FUCKING the character is all sequel, he lived in fear of himself, he went through a fucked up depression, he was marginalized because of Lycanthropy, he lived most of his life in total misery, but the rosemary Swear it took him to be with Tonks because I still liked Sirius. Remus Lupine only has traumas when it's convenient there. Which raises another issue, as you mentioned, about Remus' bisexuality, people are using this “oh he Gay” speech as if the idea of ​​Remus being bi was absurd. Why the people are freaked out.
At these times I take a deep breath and say “each one with their fanfics”, but these guys seem to do nothing but be a third-party shipp inspector just because it doesn't fit with a fanfic that only exists in the fandom bubble.
I have had less contact with the HP fandom because of that, trying to get in touch with other groups so I don't get too stressed.
It’s always the same thing. "Remadora is a problematic couple name because Tonks hates her name", "Remadora is homophobic and only exists because JK doesn't create gay couples", "Tonks took advantage of Remus in a fragile moment", "Remus abandoned Tonks and the baby, so he didn't love them" and variants.
The whole concept of gay Remus came about because of the Prisoner of Azkaban adaptation, and it's a stereotyped concept. The director read the books and thought "um he looks gay, I'm going to ask the actor to act like he's gay". And because of a hug, that was it, Remus turned gay. Ah, they always ignore multisexualities.
That’s it, ship what you want, but they don't come and piss me off.
People want so much to force their couple for sure that they use any argument. They want to say that Remadora is problematic, but they don't even realize that the ship itself is problematic. I love Remus and I love Sirius, but I can't see them as a couple for a lot of reasons. Sirius' "joke", in addition to almost killing Remus, revealed to their "enemy" Remus' biggest secret, which I'm sure Remus kept under lock and key because he feared being despised and ridiculed, ie Sirius shit for feelings at this time just to provoke Snape. Sirius and Remus believed for over a year that the other was the undercover traitor and Remus continued to believe that until he saw the rogue's map in 1994. If the guy I like believed I would be able to betray my best friends and not even ask me about it and instead trust others, for me that person is not a boyfriend. Not to mention that Sirius, after leaving Azkaban, didn't go after Remus. He only went after Remus in 1995 at the behest of Dumbledore. And the main reason: wolfstar fans made me hate wolfstar more than anything.
On Remus being "sequelae": Remus almost attacked Harry, who was the son of his best friends in 1994. It was the reason he left Hogwarts and I believe that fear accompanied him for many years in the form of nightmares. No wonder his bogeyman was the moon. Add to that his being poorer, older, and a social outcast that everyone feared and despised. Lupine always thought of others. It was obvious that he would put the well-being of the woman he loved above himself and want what was best for her. Many don't remember, but the same night Sirius died, Tonks was seriously injured. And I believe that this, and not Sirius' death, which made Remus recognize that he loved her.
If Remadora was homophobic because JK doesn't create gay couples, then ALL couples should be homophobic. Because there's no hint that Remus and Sirius are attracted to each other. The book makes it very clear that they hugged like brothers and in the movie I never saw another intention in the hug.
Tonks taking advantage of Remus is the most absurd thing I've ever read. Who has never tried to win the person you love? And if Tonks was a little "pushy" it's because she knew that what made Remus hesitate was because he wanted to protect her and not because he didn't love her.
It is interesting to see that Snape causing Lily's death and regretting it and then protecting Harry is proof of love. But Remus was afraid of harming his own son, tried to run away, repented and died to save his son and give him a better world is because he didn't love him enough.
I love Sirius, but what he did with Remus just proves how much their relationship is just friendship and the brotherly love Black had was for James. The problem is that people have a habit of always putting romance into friendships and toxic enemies (cough, cough, Drarry, cough, cough). These people have fetishes and want to shove it down the throats of others.
I believe that if you ship the couple a lot, you like the people who make it up, then to say that Remus would betray Tonks is literally saying that the character you like has no character, the same goes for saying that Remus didn't love his son.
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writingssummit · 3 years
Text
𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢'𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
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song listened to while writing this: line without a hook.
an aone x g/n reader
content: aone and tackling new feelings towards reader, fluff.
warnings: small amount of angst if you squint.
word count: 1.6k words
a/n: i heard this song play on spotify at like 2am, felt compelled to write for either aone or asahi, and went with our kind, gentle giant <3 it’s slightly different from the actual meaning, but the song was just what made this idea pop into my head. i started but fell asleep at 3 LOL, so I finished it up just now :> i hope you enjoy !
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aone isn’t good at expressing himself, and he doesn’t often speak. settling for stiff hand movements or staring, bowing, you get the gist. respectfully silent.
you’re both friends, mostly by chance, because you ended up being seated next to him in class.
you were the talker, he listened.
you’d even walk with him to his practices and just ramble on and on about whatever interested you that day.
you’d even stay during those practices if his coach allowed it.
it was at a point where koganegawa asked aone if you both were together.
now, he’s inexperienced with love, very very inexperienced. 
so when he was asked this, he froze in his spot. thrown off, if you will. like, baby doesn’t know how to respond.
but there’s obviously something there.
your friendship with the very tall middle blocker was something unexpected and unlikely, those around you both could never really wrap their heads around the idea. the height difference for one, why weren’t you intimidated? and it had all started with a seating arrangement.
you both were complete opposites. while aone preferred to stay quiet, you liked to talk. you filled the silence between you both, which was just fine with him. if anything, he was somewhat used to it, since he was around koganegawa a lot. not to mention he was friends with a certain #10.
“and it’s amazing to think he did it like that! don’t you think, aone?” you hold a fist in the air, clenching it for dramatic effect. he gave a small nod, and you grinned. “i thought so. say, you have practice again today, right? do you think i could stay and watch? it’s always so cool to see you block the balls like this!” you mimic the blocking motions you occasionally saw when they were in their gym. while you knew little of the game, the plays and games were intriguing enough to you to hold your interest. you even started to pick up on a few things here and there. not to mention that aone was also there. it was force of habit at this point, you were almost always around with him.
a quick glance down at you was all you needed. despite his intense looks, you had a vague understanding of what they meant. you had to be somewhat able to read him if you were to have communication of sorts. you felt your heart swell with happiness. all that was left was to get his coach’s permission, and then you could spectate again!
“haven’t you been neglecting your club?”
you cringe at coach oiwake’s question, fingers twitching as you stood by the entrance with your white haired friend. 
“w-well..you see-”
. . .
“fine.” 
“thank you so much!” you thanked the coach profusely, you thought for sure that he would’ve just sent you well on your way.
koganegawa was already inside the gym at that point, like many of his other teammates, noticing that you had come again. he slapped aone on the back with a face that could only be described as his signature look.
“l/n-chan is back again, huh? this is the third time this week, right? right? that’s a lot!” aone only looked back at you, who was settling down off to the side to watch them all, and then back at his friend.
“is it..? a lot.” he didn’t think much about it, but it was true. you did stay longer just to be here, and quite frequently, too. his coach had also mentioned that you were skipping club.
“mm, yeah! l/n keeps missing their own club, i heard. weird, right? i know we’re cool but that’s what games are for!” the energetic boy clenched and un-clenched his fists at shoulder height, sparkling. he paused, and then there was a shift in his energy. he gave aone a side eye, something new to him. 
“is l/n your s/o? is that why they’re always here? that would make a lot of sense!” 
and that was when aone froze up.
completely empty, besides the new thought that just entered his brain. he flushed unbeknownst to him, causing his own teammates to freak out. aone never blushed, this was strange for those witnessing.
and this continued throughout practice.
aone was unfocused, head empty at that point. every time he tried to shake it off, he was back at square one not long after. he was constantly apologizing to the people he was teaming with, all while you watched, oblivious to whatever was going on inside of your friend’s head.
because even though he seemed to be off today, aone was always talented in your eyes. always would be. he might’ve read those blocks wrong here and there today, but everybody makes mistakes. 
by the time practice was over for the day, it was late. you were dozing off against the wall, snoring a little because you had gotten a little tired after the day. 
which left somebody to have to wake you up. 
and aone of course did it himself. you woke up, blinking lazily when you felt a gentle nudge at your shoulder. you blinked up at him with sleepy eyes, and smiled softly when you saw it was him.
“aone, is it over?”
“Mm.”
“ahhh, dang. i missed a lot. let’s get going then, if you’re all ready.” you get yourself up with the help of his hands, patting them in appreciation once you were standing.
nothing went unnoticed by aone anymore when it came to you now. koganegawa’s words were on loop whenever he just so much as looked in your general direction. he would catch himself looking away now when you looked back at him, too nervous to hold any form of eye-contact. which was very much unlike him.
you thought that he was mad at you, which made you nervous in return.
a week or so went by, and then another.
now you were quiet when you walked with him to practice.
and he didn’t know why. 
it was when he saw you talking to futakuchi with that beautiful smile of yours that he felt something even newer than whatever he was feeling around you.
he had locked onto you both, watching as you laughed at whatever his teammate was saying, and blinked when he felt a hard clap on his shoulder. it was once again koganegawa.
“mm, what’re you looking at??” he glanced over, and then pursed his lips. “ohh, i see.”
aone broke his stare away from you both, looking sulky somehow.
“jealousy?? from aone??” koganegawa was shook, to say the least. aone had a visible question mark above his head. is that what this was? must be. he didn’t like how it felt at all.
another revelation for aone, but he didn’t do anything about it.
more time went by as the two of you started to drift apart, you of course still went to practices to watch, but you had stopped going to aone as soon as they had finished up. you went to futakuchi.
he must not be good enough, if you stopped talking so much around him. he missed it, he missed being able to listen to you talk about anything and everything. 
and you didn’t even know that the reason he’s been so off around you was because he liked you too. it had never even crossed your mind as a possibility with a good ending, because you were sure there was no way that he just happened to return the same feelings.
withdrawing just made it hurt, on both ends. 
the miscommunication was getting to be troublesome, because aone wasn’t playing his best, distracted by who and when you were watching, the sadness he felt when you weren’t talking next to him, and his teammates noticed. who wouldn’t?
and you were the reason, the team knew that. it was obvious to them even before this awkward time period.
on a particular day, you were talking with futakuchi again, he was just recalling some of the plays and rules, it was a bit easier to ask him instead of aone, because he wasn’t as quiet. which wasn’t any issue, you liked him no matter how much he spoke. but this was convenient at the time for you.
you wanted to understand it more, maybe if you knew more about volleyball, aone wouldn’t look away anymore. maybe he would say more.
but he stopped midsentence and looked behind you, his face plain. with a sigh, he waved a hand. “alright l/n, looks like somebody wants to talk with you. we can continue later, yeah?” you tilt your head, but nod. 
“oh, okay-”
you felt a hand on your arm, and you turned to look over your shoulder. and there aone was.
“aone? what’s up?” you ask nervously. he had approached you this time, instead of the other way around. a welcome thing, but it kept you on your toes.
he stared you down, and you sweatdropped.
“. . .”
“I like you.”
your soul left your body right then and there. it was gone. what?? huh? your body felt a rush of relief and anxiety leave it, because oh my god, he just said that to you. 
“l/n.” he looked off to the side, and you finally realized what that was all about. he didn’t hate you.
“you don’t hate me? oh thank god, i thought you hated me, you stopped looking at me and i got so worried, i-”
“never would.” he coughed into his fist, a small tint of pink dusted across his cheeks. your eyes soften, and you hold you hands up, making grabby hands at his face. he blinked, and then leaned down towards them.
you held his face gently, stroking his cheek with your thumb, before planting a small kiss on his nose.
“i like you too, aone.”
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heyitsyn · 3 years
Text
Prove Me Wrong
M!Reader x Oikawa
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a/n: SDKLFJSLDKFJDLSKF OKAY I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I LAST UPDATED BUT I REALLY INVESTED MY TIME INTO RESEARCHING AND READING FANFICS WITH AN M!READER BC I REALLY DIDNT WANNA GET IT WRONG SO I APOLOGIZE IF I DID SOMETHING WRONG AND I HOPE THIS ANON LIKES IT!!!
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anon:
-heres an interesting thought. what about flamboyant oikawa with a cold boyfriend😳😳
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YEYYY I FINALLY UPDATED
LETS GET STARTED SHALL WE?
okayokayokay
so in the request above
this is a m!reader
meaning you will be male in this one so hehe yep the story starts now
you are,,,
distant
and cold
but its mainly just because you were,,,
too tired to actually put in the effort of socializing
between bouncing between part-time jobs to care for your siblings and to schoolwork and book club
the mans can only do so much
so you spend most of your time in school just trying to catch up on sleep bc youre too busy studying up all night for exams since yanno
✨gRaDuaATiOn✨
unfortunately for you, your class had the famous manwhore oikawa tooru
why is that a bad thing?
well, imagine just trying to get some shut eye and suddenly, you just hear a bunch of screaming girls and it gets louder the closer the guy approaches your classroom and when he opens it,
the screams become 10x bass boosted
then imagine that with your sensitive hearing
now,,
it does bother you but it wouldnt bother you as much if he told them to leave
BUT NOOOOOO
he decides to let them in and chat with them and flatter them and continue with that bs until the bell rings
even then,
the girls in your class cant help but keep giggling at him and he always whispers in that obnoxious voice and youre just like two seconds away from ripping his tongue out
now
you dont hate him
you just genuinely dislike his way of living
and the way he talks
and the way he acts
yea see?
no hate
theres a difference
then there was that one time that you got so fed up with it that when oikawa settled on his seat and the fangirls circled him like some cult
they started talking to him all at once trying to get his attention
so it was a garbled mess of sounds and you growled, burying your face deeper in your arms because you would snap really really soon
then one girl shrieked when oikawa smiled at her and then you really just let go of all bearings
your chair made a squeak as you shot up, palms slamming against the wooden desk and your eyes glaring straight at them
‘go back to the farm, ya squealing pigs’
DSKFJLSDFKJSDFKDJS SORRY I LOVE TSUMU
this made everyone silent-even the others in the class just minding their own business
they all knew you as the quiet kid who didnt really talk much but those who did were really scared at you and the way you talked to them with such a cold and monotonous voice that they started spreading rumors about you
even absurd ones like your eyes are so cold bc youve killed so many people that you have no life and empathy left
LIKE WHAT THE HECK YOU STRUGGLED TO GET A SPIDER OUT OF YOUR SISTERS ROOM THE OTHER DAY LIKE EXCUSE YOU
but apparently they were just,,, so scared of you that when you finally got done with them and bursted out, the girls started crying
YALL KNOW THE SAYING LIKE HELL HAS STARTED WHEN THE QUIET KID SNAPS
the females run out of the room scared and the others nervously looks at you
your eyes sweeped through the room and each one of them flinched when you made eye contact with them
YES ASSERT OUR DOMINANCE M/N
the only who didnt was oikawa tooru himself
your eyes landed on him and he still had that stupid smug look on his stupidly gorgeous face and you wanted to ki-WAIT NO SLAP it off of him
‘the hell you looking at?’
you grumbled at him and he just merely shook his head with a smile
‘you remind me a chihuahua, m/n-chan. so cute when its angry’
‘HAH?!’
now it isnt a surprise to hear oikawa tooru say that to a boy bc wowza the school loves him so much that hes a bi icon in seijoh and hes such a king like who cares?
but they were surprised to see you turn red, the tips of your ears to the base of your neck were all flushed
‘see? so cute, right, everyone?’
KSDFJLSDKJFS
THE NERVE OF THIS MAN
the class didnt say anything except just put their heads down bc as much as they wanted to agree with oikawa at how suddenly hot you looked, they were too scared that you might plummet their faces to the ground
maybe thats when everyone started noticing you more
again, you were very quiet, you didnt talk much, you just sat there and listened so obviously you didnt really stand out but then that outburst made you more noticeable
you started seeing girls in your class staring at you then blush and look away abashedly
then the guys in your class started greeting you, even people in the hallways
ngl the attention you suddenly got was overwhelming
especially when oikawa seemed to call out to you all the time now
as you were walking down the stairs, hed see you and he’d shout and wave to you
‘m/n-chan! hiii!!!!’
his loud voice would make everyone turn and look at you and you dont do well with public attention so you turn red and you glare at him
‘shut the hell up, idiot. and dont call me by my first name. we’re not friends’
you turned to walk in the classroom but you looked at him again after taking a few steps
there he was
smiling and giggling with those girls
all he does is smile and giggle and shit
its so damn fake that you cant believe everyone fell for it and the worst thing is oikawa’s doing it to get everyone’s acceptance and validication
it was pathetic and disgusting
poor oikawa :(
now on to baby flatttykawa side,
he was kinda hurt by that
like how the heck are you not friends when youve been going to high school for 3 years?
sure, its only been casual greetings and him waving at you when yall made eye contact
but its still something, right?
right?
when you walked back into the classroom, tooru cant help but feel down at the declaration of the lack of friendship you had
his form slouched and his eyes trailed down but the voice of some girl brought him back to where he was and to fix his attitude
‘oikawa-san? are you okay?’
the others muttered in concern with her but they were eased when he raised a peace sign with the signature smile 
‘yep! all good!’
GOD I REALLY CANT STAND IT WHEN HE USES A FACADE TO EVERYONE BUT LIKE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH BC HES SUCH A STRONG CHARACTER THAT DOESNT BREAK AND HES SO INSECURE AND IT PAINS ME SO MUCH THAT HE FEELS THE NEED TO HIDE BEHIND A MASK EVERYDAY AND AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
truth be told,
oikawa has always noticed you
not only do you work at the one bakery with his milk bread but you also work at the convenience store that the team sometimes visits
then he also noticed you picking up your brother from the volleyball practice that takeru’s part of and he cant help but frown at the eyebags under your eyes that he always sees
he lies awake at night just thinking how you would look without those eyebags, without the sickly looking complexion, or even just the lack of life in your eyes
then during class, you sat by the window
tooru knows this bc his eyes always fixes itself on you whenever he opens that door and he has to hold in the need to hug you when he sees you sleeping on your desk
others might call you lazy
others might call you a video game all nighter kid
but they dont notice the things you do
the nervous habits hes seen from you at the times that tooru couldnt help but stare
he knew it was creepy to do it
but you were so silent
you blended yourself into the background and you made sure to stay there 
thats why nobody knows anything about you
with good looks like yours and a smart brain (he knew this from mattsun and makki being your students), why exactly were you not known?
maybe thats why it drew you to him
all his life he chased, 
but now hes the one chasing?
tooru knows that your left eyebrow lifts when sensei writes something you dont understands
tooru knows that you like to do sudoku in the convenience store while you worked
tooru knows you eat the same meal during lunch every day from the same lunchbox
and he also knows that your brother talks so highly about you from takeru
the little things your brother brags about like your ability to cook f/f or your weird ability to just assemble something without looking at the instruction manual
he notices and knows all these things about you
things that people never really even bothered to 
oikawa didnt even know he liked you until iwaizumi pointed it out during lunch
the third years liked to go and eat at the rooftop where it was nice and windy
oikawa was sitting and leaned against the tall wire fence, his eyes fixated on you down below on the bench as you ate your lunch
then you accidentally loosened the chopsticks causing your food to slip off
that made oikawa giggle
he was chuckling and giggling that the others noticed him when he suddenly went quiet
‘oi, oikawa’
makki nudged him back to them and tooru flinched before smiling at them
‘hm? so you do notice me!’
iwa glared
‘idiot. of course we do. youre laughing over there like some damn schoolgirl. did one of your fangirls posses you or something? if not, cut it out. its ugly’
oikawa shot him an offended look
‘what?! iwa-chan so mean!’
mattsun took the liberty to peer over the edge to see what he was looking at and smirked
‘eh? were you looking at l/n-sensei?’
oikawa blushed, feeling like he just got caught doing something bad
‘and what about it? im looking at you too, right now, mattsun!’
makki cackled at oikawa’s poor attempt of reasoning
‘i mean, i dont blame you. if issei wasnt here, id definitely get with him’
SEDKLFJSDLFISDKFJ MATTSUHANA YALL :”)
oikawa’s eyes wandered back down to you and he noticed you put the bento box to the side before sneezing
‘gosh, even his sneeze is cute’
he mumbled then jolted when he heard his own words 
iwa sighed
‘what are we going to do with you, shittykawa?’
‘what?! what did i do?!’
iwa’s eyes scrunched and he scrutinized his best friend
‘boke. i feel bad for that kid, doesnt know this stupid idiot likes him’
so thats how oikawa came to terms of it
he thought he was just interested and fascinated with you but he really does like you
and to be honest, he doesnt really want you to know that bc duh, you dont like him so why bother?
baby oiks doesnt interact with you much anymore bc he knows you get uncomfy with attention but he still does look out for you and decides he should just admire from afar
he will live every day just holding his feelings in for you and one day they will disappear
but today just wasnt the day
maybe today was the start of the worst yet the best part of your life
last night was particularly rough as the convenience store you worked in had a drunk person who wanted to fight with you and your manager had to call the police and it was just a mess
to add on to it, midterms were around the corner-like next week- so you were studying up for that
but your sister got sick so you were also trying to take care of her and making sure her fever was going down and her crying ever few hours about her tummy ache didnt allow you to sleep
hehehe single parent working late tingz
ALSO SHE DOESNT HAVE MISS RONA JFC
so yep haha you did NOT get any sleep
so you walked into school that morning, looking tired as hell and mad as hell but you just wanted to sleep bro
the one kid you tutor, matsukawa issei, and his friend who usually tags along, hanamaki takahiro, noticed you dazedly pass them in the hallway and poor dudes felt bad for you
mattsun actually pays you to tutor him bc he knows you need the money while taka preferred to buy you snacks and drinks as compensation
so it was normal that he had an energy drink in his bag that he was going to give you tomorrow during your tutoring day
‘oi! l/n!’
your head perked up at the call of your name and you nodded in greeting at the light brown haired boy
‘hey’
you muttered and mattsun placed his hands on your shoulder to keep you upright
‘oi, l/n, you sure you want to be here? you can go home and we can tell them youre sick or some-’
but you waved your hand
‘nonono todays an important lecture so i cant miss it’
the two guys didnt look convinced but they respected your need to be in school since they too need to be in class for midterms
‘here. at least take this’
makki placed a drink on your hand and you nodded and gave them a small smile
‘thanks’
you mumbled before wandering off
once they saw you at a distance away, makki wrapped an arm around issei to get his attention
‘ya think we should tell oikawa to keep an eye on him? make sure he doesnt keel over and die or somethin?’
mattsun stopped before nodding
‘yea thats a good idea’
SKLFJLSDKJFD NOT MATTSUHANA BEING YOUR PARENTS
oikawa was already in class when you walked in and he cant help but tear his eyes away from the girls to you as you sluggishly walked to your seat
the drop of your bag and the thud of your head meeting the desk made him worried bc you looked worse than usual
his phone buzzed and he checked it to see a message from mattsun
‘keep an eye out for your boyfriend. mightve been working late last night and yanno how he is. just watch out if he faints or something’
okay that made him super worried
totally ignoring what mattsun called you, oikawa knew he needed to talk to you
but these fangirls were the first problem
he shut his phone off and looked up at them with a grin that made them madly blush
‘ladies, class is about to start. oikawa-senpai would hate for you to be marked. so study hard for me, okay?’
like hypnotized cult members, the girls ran to their classrooms and tooru finally had the opportunity to talk to you
he stood up and walked over to your seat
‘m/n-chan’
he called out, looking down at you
‘m/n-chan’
he tried again and was about to put a hand on your shoulder when your hand snatched it
‘dont touch me, oikawa’
you grumbled and tooru furrowed his eyebrows
‘m/n-chan, i just wanted to ask if youre okay’
he whined and you didnt bother to look up but just let go of his hand
‘i was until you came over, idiot’
ouch
tooru was thankful that the teacher came in then and there bc he didnt know how to respond to that
he wanted to brush it off but it hurt him a little
and he knows he shouldnt entertain his crush on you but he couldnt looking at you and watching as you got up to use the bathroom 
as class went on, oikawa was starting to worry
now again, hes no stalker bc his observation skills were just phenomenal due to volleyball
so he noticed that youve been in the bathroom for like 20 minutes now
DONT JUDGE US, OIKAWA. WE’RE JUST TRYING TO PUSH OUT THE BIG PIECE OF-
okay nevermind
anyways
tooru, worried that something happened, raised his hand to go and use the bathroom and the sensei wasnt exactly paying attention so he just let him go
thank god he has long legs bc he was able to reach the bathroom quick and he stifled a shriek when he saw your passed out form inside
‘M/N-CHAN!’
he yelled and he cursed when duh you were alone and who knows how long youve been there
and ew bathroom floors is bleh
you were in no way light but you werent exactly heavy either so he was able to muster up all his strength and hoisted you on his back
tooru’s heart thrummed in his chest and he knew it couldnt be that serious but he cant help but think of the worst
and yep
the nurse just told him that your heartbeat was okay and you were snoring so you mustve been exhausted by the dark circles in your eyes
‘keep an eye on him for me. i have to tend to midoriya over there. the kid broke his arm again and i dont know how’
she grumbled at the end but tooru didnt care as he sat on the chair next to your bed
he sighed before laying his head on the cot by your hand
his eyes settled on your face and how peaceful it looked
gosh, you really were so cute
your personality just sucked ass
constantly telling him to shut up and calling him idiot
hmph
not long after oikawa fell asleep, you woke up and cursed, immediately realizing you fainted and you missed class
as you were going to rub your eye, there was weight on your hand and you looked down to see a head full of brown hair that could only belong to a certain someone
a certain idiot
‘oi. oikawa, wake up’
you shook his head and when he didnt budge, you just pulled your hand from under him making him jump awake
at first, he was confused
looking around like a lost puppy and his eyes bleary
yea it was cute and what about it
then he noticed you sitting up and he smiled
‘you feeling better, m/n-chan?’
he asked, leaning close 
but you placed your hand on his face to push him away
‘yea. and stop leaning so close, idiot’
you grumbled and he whined
‘youre so mean, m/n-chan! i was so worried about you!’
he complained and you rolled your eyes
‘i didnt ask you to be, idiot’
SLDKFJSDLKFJKL M/N IS SO MEAN WHAT THE FAK
oikawa frowned
‘i cant help it. i like you, m/n-chan’
you froze, looking at him with scrunched eyebrows
then you chuckled dryly
‘yea, okay sure. im okay now so you can go to class’
wOW OIKAWA DESERVES BETTER WHAT
tooru was taken aback
‘wh-what? thats it? after i just told you that i liked you?’
you blinked at him
‘what do you want me to say about that, oikawa? how do you want me to react? im not like your fangirls, squealing and shit’
your words cut deep in him and oikawa held your arm
‘no wait a minute. what do you mean by that? do you not believe me?’
‘who the hell believes something that’s fake?’
there was a snip in your tone and oikawa knew you were talking about this facade of his
‘what? i-’
‘you think i believe you? you telling me you like me? do you even know who you are?’
you asked and tooru sniffled, eyes staring at your chest
‘for years, you told people what you wanted them to hear, regardless if you meant them or not. not once have you ever told them no. who the hell accepts chocolates when they dont even like them to begin with?’
at that last part, oikawa snapped up to meet your eyes
‘how did you know’
you rolled your eyes
‘our brothers are friends, idiot. he gave him some of the chocolates you gave to takeru since the brat couldnt eat them all’
oddly, that brought some warmth in tooru’s chest
so he wasnt the only one who knows the stupid stuff
but you continued on your rant
‘for a guy who doesnt like sweet stuff, youve accepted their nasty treats all the time, like why? oh, wait i know why, because you want them to like you. it doesnt matter if-if this-this persona of yours isnt real because as long as they like you, you dont give a fuck. isn’t that true? am i right? because please, prove me wrong’
maybe your dislike for him came out at that tangent and you half expected him to cry but you were surprised when he glared at you with teary eyes
‘i will. ill prove you wrong, m/n, that i do like you and i will make you like me. ill make you like me with the real me. i swear.’
‘mhm. okay. sure, oikawa’
do you regret it?
i mean,,,
kinda?
but not really?
because you loved watching the girls faces fall when oikawa rejected their treats the next day
you were walking to class when you noticed him with his cult by the entrance and you saw him smiling at some girl before gently pushing away a can of cookies
‘gomen. i actually dont like sweets that much anymore. if you want, you can give me milk bread?’
you stopped and oikawa caught your eye and he grinned
you nodded in greeting before continuing to walk
but he noticed a small smile on your face and gosh oikawa sighed like a lovesick fool
it took iwaizumi to finally send him back and his fangirls were looking at him worriedly
‘could you be less obvious, shittykawa?’
rip iwaizumi hajime in episode 546546546 of daily adventures of oikawa tooru
you noticed that oikawa has started to become distant with his fangirls and hes been sticking to you during lunch, leaving behind the others
makki and mattsun looked like proud parents as they peered down over to you flicking oikawa’s forehead and they smiled
‘god, that kid deserves this’
‘hah? that sounds like more of a punishment to me. but i dont care. it takes him off our hands for a while’
IWA I SWEAR HES SO MEAN BUT HE STILL WUVS TOORU SO ITS OKAY
oikawa would pick your brother up and take him home when youre too busy to go get him yourself and sometimes, he even takes your little sister too which causes them to have a mini sleepover and you sleep there too
also, whenever youre working in the convenience store, tooru would buy sandwhiches and a drink just for you so you can eat them while youre on break and not have to waste money and you told himyou dont want him spending money on you but he doesnt wanna hear it
‘i dont want you buying me-’
‘ssshhhh dont. im doing this because i want to and becaus i care for you, m/n-chan’
overtime, 
yea
sure
youve started to like him
youve started looking forward to seeing his stupidly cute face and his stupidly cute giggle
you went to his games and gave him a tight hug when hes about to play as a ritual for good luck and you would open your arms for him wide whenever he wins
then he didnt
against shiratorizawa, you noticed how he was so disappointed
even as you walked home with him, he continued to smile and tell you how good his team played
until you couldnt take it anymore
you pulled him over to some alleyway and you pushed him to the wall
DSKLFJLSDKFJLSDFJ WOW WHAT
oikawa nervously fiddled with his jacket and gave you a shaky smile
‘m/n-chan, what are you-’
‘tell me what youre feeling right here, right now. no bullshit, no lies, tell me everything in that pretty head of yours’
you deadpanned and tooru looked away
‘im fine’
‘are you lying to me, tooru?’
your voice was even but he could tell you were serious
he gulped before taking in a shakey breath
‘im fine. so stop asking about it!’
he exclaimed and you sighed
‘listen, i know its not official yet but you want me to be your boyfriend right?’
tooru flinched before he flushed at the word ‘boyfriend’ 
then he nodded
‘as your boyfriend, you have to lean on me, tooru. i dont want you to hold it to yourself because i wanna be there for you and i want to go through everything with you because i,,,,,’
you stopped and hesitated, debating if you should say it or not
‘because i like you, idiot’
you confessed and swallowed thickly
oikawa met your eye and his eyes watered
‘im so angry! im so disappointed! but i know my team did their 110 percent! we’re just not strong enough! so its not their fault! but ushijima is such a freak and hes too strong and its not fair!’
he complained and he cried loudly
not once in the 3 years of knowing oikawa have you seen him cry and you were so proud of him for being able to trust you enough to show him being vulnerable
you rushed forward held him close to your chest
‘for what it’s worth, you looked so incredibly hot and cute playing’
you whispered and pecked his neck 
of course oikawa couldnt hold his surprise at the feeling of your lips on his neck so he squealed a little
you gigled and continued holding your boyfriend close, even if it was at some nasty alleyway
yall became official and ngl, they didnt see this coming
some nobody dating the grand king oikawa tooru?
what in the wattpad?
yall know that tiktok of like ‘guys you cant dm me anymore. i have a girlfriend now. what else? and i love her’
IF YALL DONT KNOW IM SORRY
but you totally made oikawa tell his fangirls that
YOU KNOW THE FUNNY THING?
when yall became official, you actually gained your own little fanclub
maybe its because you gained clout from your boyfriend but they started noticing you and wowza you were hot
before, it was you getting jealous over tooru but now, it was him getting possessive of you
hes such a brat that he sits on your lap before class and youre just all smirking and feeling all good bc your baby is so cute when hes jealous
YOU CANT DISAGREE THAT HE DOESNT RADIATE UKE ENERGY
but all oiks has to do is pull down your collar and expose your purple littered collarbones and they will know who you belong to
theres a reason why iwa-chan is now the kids babysitter
youre still kinda cold and distant to people but youre soft for your baby and you always hold him close when hes in sight and you just cant get enough of him
:’)
also!! 
your sister loves dressing you up and oikawa has his sisters makeup and they both do your makeup and you guys have tea party with the boys and just the cutest domestic stuff
you still call him idiot though
but like affectionately yanno?
and over the years youve turned it down to dummy
and ngl tooru loves it when you call him that
what in the dumbification-
because he knows that equivalent to babe from you and he absolutely just loves you lmao
youre def the more quieter and calmer one in the relationship like you absolutely dont react much
while tooru is the overreactor and hes very animated with his facial expressions and stuff
like the one time
he was cooking some chicken pasta and you cheekily grabbed a piece of chicken and he made a dramatic gasp
‘*le gasp* oikawa m/n how dare steal a piece of chicken!’
you cackled before crossing your arms at the sight ofyour lover with his pursed lips and hands on his hips
‘excuse you. its more of you who’d take my last name’
it was so easy to make him flustered and tooru quickly turned around to tend back to the food but he was really just hiding his red face
‘b-baka. thats not going to happen’
‘not if i do it first’
you shrugged and smirked, wondering if he will fall for it
and as expected with oikawa tooru
‘yea okay sure’
‘i will!’
‘prove me wrong, m/n-chan~’
‘turn around right now’
oikawa rolled his eyes playfully before turning with a smile
‘what are you-*le gasp part 2*’
his hands covered his mouth at the sight of you there in front of him, kneeling on your knee tightly clutching a silver ring between your thumb and index finger
your heart was thrumming in your chest but you gulped and smiled
‘i win. now marry me, dummy’
oikawa screamed
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a/n: sorry if this sucked booty :((( but i just really like the thought of uke oikawa and just him with a cute boyfriend for a change like please we all know oikawa is a bi king and thats on docosahexaenoic acid
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germanicseidr · 3 years
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Frisians
We are picking up from where we left off on my post about the Frisii. The Frisians were a germanic tribe/kingdom located in modern day Frisia, Noord-Holland, Zuid-Holland, Zeeland, Utrecht, Groningen, Drenthe and Overijssel in the Netherlands, east-Frisia in Germany and north-Frisia in Denmark. They are the oldest Germanic culture that still exist until this very day with their own unique history, flag, traditions and language.
During the great migrational period, which also marks the end of the iron age and the start of the medieval age, new settlers, mostly Saxons, settled themselves in former Frisii territory. Most of the Frisii had abandoned their homeland and migrated either southwards or to the west to Britannia. Only a very few Frisii remained in their homeland, too little to continue their population.
Around the 5th century AD these migrants were now settled properly and called themselves Frisians. They quickly turned their homeland into a powerful seafaring nation now bordered by the Christianized Franks to the south and the still pagan Saxons to the east, the Frisians were still pagan as well. By 500AD they were possibly the most powerful sea power in western Europe, a power they gained from their long history of sailing and trading.
Since the collapse of the Western Roman empire, the economy in western Europe was in a very sad state. Poverty and hunger were considered to be normal while ancient Roman settlements started to decay and slowly disappear. Between 300-500AD, trade was pretty much dead and time appeared to have stopped moving for the people in western Europe. This all eventually changed thanks to the Frisians who were able to restore trade routes and opened up a path for the now so famous vikings.
During the late 6th century, the Frisians set up wide-spread trading routes all across the north sea, east sea and the Rhine area. In all of these trading areas, settlements grew like cabbage thanks to the wealth that these Frisian traders brought, settlements like: Ipswich in England, Ribe in Denmark and Medemblik in the Netherlands. Already existing settlements such as London and Dorestad grew thanks to this trade. Dorestad, a city which was located in modern day Utrecht, the Netherlands, even became the most important trade hub of western Europe, it was also the capital of the Frisian kingdom.
The Frisians were in fact so dominant in their trade that the term Frisian became a synonym for trader in many Germanic languages until around 1000AD. Curiously enough, many of the trading settlements were not fortified with walls or forts, the 6th and 7th century were relatively peaceful times. It was also the Frisians who reintroduced the concept of money in the form of sceatta coins. The word sceatta itself is Frisian for treasure. Archeologists have found these sceatta coins all around the North sea coast, England, Denmark, Germany and the Netherlands. These sceattas were based on earlier Roman coins. So you can thank the Frisians for the fact that we use money instead of the old trading system.  
So what did the Frisians trade exactly? They traded both luxery goods and more mundane goods per example: Fabrics, skins, pottery, metal, cattle, fish, flesh, salt, wine, dairy products, fur, milling stones and even walrus, sea lion and reindeer products which they got from the far North in Scandinavia. They also traded in human lives because the slave trade was a lucrative business and slaves were essential for the early medieval economy.
Who ruled the Frisians? It is not known when the Frisian tribe turned into a kingdom but we do have written sources of some of the earliest Frisian kings. The oldest yet quite unreliable source comes from the epic poem Beowulf which mentions Finn Folcwalding as the first king of the Frisians. It is however doubtful if Finn actually really existed since Beowulf is not exactly a reliable historical source. According to the Poem, Finn was the son of Folcwalding and married a Danish princes, Hildeburh.
Here is a quote from the Beowulf poem: "The warriors returned then to seek their houses, bereft of friends, to see Frisia, their homes and high fort yet Hengest the death-stained winter spent with Finn, in a place with no fellowship at all; he remembered his land, though he could not drive on the sea the ring-prowed ship: the sea welled in storm, fought against the wind, the winter locked the waves in icy bonds, until came another year to the courtyards, as it still does now, those which continuously carry out their seasons, gloriously bright weathers." Beowulf
The first Frisian king of whom's existence we actually got archeological evidence, is king Audulf, who ruled Frisia between 600-630AD. The most famous Frisian ruler however is king Redbad/Radboud who ruled Frisia from 690-719AD. His story is recorded by the Franks, the enemy of the Frisian kingdom. According to these records, Redbad refused to convert to Christianity exclaiming that he would rather spent an eternity in hell with his ancestors than to go to heaven.
It was also under Redbad's rule that the Frisian kingdom reached its peak. The Frisians and Franks were continuously at war with each other as the Franks tried to expand their empire. Not only did the Franks aspire to add more land to their already massive empire, they wanted to convert the Frisians to Christianity as well which they eventually did with quite some violence. Bonifatius and Willibrord were send to Frisia with orders to built churches and convert the local people.
Bonifatius started to chop down sacred trees throughout Frisia, oak trees which were dedicated to Donar, which were used not only for religious purposes but also for judicial purposes. This angered the Frisians greatly and eventually the mob turned against Bonifatius killing him and his followers out of anger and revenge.
Redbad managed to keep Frisia largely pagan until his death in 719AD. After his death, the Frisian kingdom was quickly conquered by the Franks who divided the kingdom into three parts, East-Frisia, Middle Frisia and West-Frisia. One thing I want to mention is that there is a very popular post going around the internet saying that Redbad is the last Frisian king, this is however not true. The last Frisian king was Poppo who ruled Frisia between 719-734AD. It was during Poppo's reign that Frisia was conquered by the Franks, perhaps the reason why most people conveniently leave him out of history.
By the year 734AD, the Frisians were now largely converted to Christianty but some pagans still remained. The latest pagan burial dates back to around 1000AD and some pagan habits like placing offerings in moors and swamps continued on well into the 18th century. It took a very long time before the Frisians accepted Christianity, almost 1000 years before the Christian faith fully got its hold in even the smallest settlements.
Not only Frisia was conquered and converted by the Franks, the Saxons were also invaded by them which led to the Saxon wars which took place between 772-804AD. These wars eventually led to the destruction of the Irminsul and the forcible conversion to Christianity. Countless of pagans were murdered for refusing to convert. The Frisians provided military support for the Saxons in their uprising but it sadly failed. With the arrival of the 9th century, continental Germanic paganism has almost completely died with the exception of Denmark.
The Frisians were no longer independent and by 839AD, the reign of Frisian counts began. During the 9th century, the Frisian territory, now part of Lotharingia, was repeatedly attacked by the vikings. Thanks to the vikings, the Frisians lost their status of the most powerful seafaring nation and an age of terror began. Dorestad, former capital of the Frisian kingdom, was raided several times by the vikings until the city eventually slowly died. It was rediscovered in 1842 during archeological research conducted by L.J.F Janssen, conservator of the rijksmuseum van Oudheden in Leiden.
Since the Christianization of Frisia went so slowly, many of its people still believed in the Germanic Gods by the time the vikings were active. After the passing of Louis the pious, king of the Franks, in 840AD, a power struggle broke out between his three sons which resulted in devastating civil wars. The Frisians, who are genetically and culturally identical to the Danes, decided to stop defending their territories from Danish raiders and so Frisia fell in the hands of Danish rulers. The Frisians and Danes actually had good relationships with each other as their culture and religion were the same. It is believed that many Frisians turned viking as well and joined the Danes in their viking raids.
Eventually the viking raids stopped but the Frisians, now known as the West-Frisians, continued their good relationships with Denmark, a friendship which continued for many centuries as Holland and Denmark later united to battle the Swedes, in fact this friendship still endures until this very day and was recently celebrated between both governments.
The counts of West-Frisia, who governed on behalf of the Holy Roman Emperor, ruled over the area which was formally part of the Frisian kingdom, modern day Noord-Holland, Zuid-Holland, Friesland, Groningen, Drenthe, Utrecht and east-Frisia. The first known count is Dirk I who governed over Frisia between 916-928AD. This line of counts continued until count Dirk V of West-Frisia declared himself as count of Holland and so the province of Holland was born.
The climate of Europe changed again between 800-1200AD, the medieval warm period had begun. This eventually led to a gigantic flood, the Sint-Lucia flood, which created the Zuiderzee and separated West-Frisia from East-Frisia. Eventually east-Frisia became known as simply Frisia but West-Frisia, now reduced to an area connected to Holland, continued to exist under its former name. The remaining part of West-Frisia refused to join Holland which resulted in the West-Frisian wars which lasted around 160 years.
West-Frisia was eventually absorbed into Holland by count Floris V during the late 13th century after series of battles and a mass slaughter committed by the Hollanders on West-Frisian men, women and children. Even though West-Frisia is nowadays part of Holland, they still remain their own unique identity, anthem, flag and dialect. the province of Holland grew into the most powerful province of the low lands and eventually revolted against their Spanish overlords in 1568, a struggle now known as the 80 years war for Dutch independence which resulted in the free republic of the united provinces in 1648, the creation of the Netherlands as a united land.
Meanwhile east-Frisia, now known as Frisia, continued to resist against every power that tried to conquer the territory. Frisia became an independent territory around the year 1000AD and continued to be independent until they decided to join the Dutch revolt against the Spanish. Frisia joined the union of Utrecht and became part of the Dutch republic and still continues to be part of the Netherlands until this very day although some Frisians want to reclaim their independence again.
I am sorry for this long post on the history of the Frisians but they have a very long history that deserves to be told since they greatly influenced all of Europe and are the oldest still existing Germanic culture of Europe.
Here are images of: a map showing Magna Frisia, the Frisian kingdom at its peak. An image of king Redbad/Radboud, Frisian traders, artist unknown, A map of the Frisian trade network, Frisian sceatta coins with a depiction of Wodan, a map showing West-Frisia before the formation of Holland, A photo that I took myself of West-Frisian remains badly maimed by soldiers of Holland during the West-Frisian wars, Current territory of West-Frisia, map showing present day Frisia and east-Frisia
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groovybaybee · 3 years
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In The Club - 1
cw: bit of smut, alcohol consumption, think that’s all, terrible writing but that’s a given
(8.8k i’m so sorry, the other chapters won’t be this long i promise)
masterlist
Fucking your friend is never as problem-free as you convince yourself it will be. Sure, it starts out simply enough; two horny people agreeing to a moment of need-driven desperation. If you are lucky, the sex is terrible and forms the basis of just another inside joke between you. However, if you are truly unfortunate, the sex is fantastic and addictive and so convenient that you convince yourself it is an ideal situation.
“Fuck me,” I groan blissfully as the cool night air smacks against my exposed flesh.
 Despite still not falling into the habit, the smoking area of any club quickly becomes my sanctuary on any given night out. Something about the space feels sacred and sinful at once, a free zone of communal naughtiness.
 Its more than that. The haze-filled space offers a welcome reprieve, whether that be from thumping beats, one drink too many, or lecherous advances. Standing outside in my sanctuary, breathing in a mixture of second-hand smoke and crisp, late August air; I feel at peace. My eyelids flutter closed and my head rolls back until my chin is parallel with the night sky.
 Its cold.  We knew it would be before we came out, the idea of a summer in London feeling like some sick joke as we rallied around each other to avoid bringing jackets to avoid wasting time in a queue for the cloakroom. The evening’s chill does not bother me, instead, I appreciate the way it sinks into my skin, chilling the heat being pumped through my veins. The beads of sweat in my hairline begin to dissipate as the soft breeze caresses every piece of bare skin.
 “You alright there, babe?” I hear Harry ask, promptly reminding me that I am not alone despite being in my own little world.
 A smile pulls across my face, but I take a second to breathe one final inhale of tranquillity before meeting his gaze. He is grinning at me, clearly finding amusement in my cooling down process. If his use of the name ‘babe’ had fallen on deaf ears, the toothy grin and glazed look in his eyes would quickly clear up any confusion as to his state of intoxication.
 The sweet boy is pissed.
 As he has every right to be. Tonight marks the first night in months he has accepted an invitation to come out. Do not get me wrong, Harry is an inspiration for his dedication to his work and it is obvious that creating music is his path in life, his primary passion, but man have I missed him. The past month has been the worst, almost every offer to spend time together being met with a consolatory ‘Have to work sorry :(‘ text message. Despite knowing that this was the truth, and would only last a little while longer until his newest album was fully wrapped, it still stung not being able to relax after a long week with a bottle of wine, some horrendous film, and one of my best friends. But the album is done, fully mastered and now just awaited final approval before being birthed to the world. Now, I have my boy back.
 “I’m so happy you came,” I tell him, wrapping my arms clumsily around his neck.
 I feel a breath of laughter against my hair as he pulls me into a tight hug. The two of us sway enthusiastically together, likely encouraged by a mixture of spirits but happy, nonetheless.
 Pulling away from him I press a quick kiss to his lips, hands on his cheeks squeezing his face gleefully. This is not the first time I have kissed Harry during our two-year long friendship. The two of us even went through a brief period of kissing each other hello, up until just over a year ago. So, it is little shock to the rest of our friendship group when we share a few giggle-fuelled smooches.
 “Get a room,” Deb laughs, stubbing out the butt of her cigarette with an amused eyeroll.
 “Some people would pay good money to see this sweet action.” Harry teases, a hand gripping my hip and pulling my body flush against his to prove his point.
 I would be lying to myself if I said his body did not feel good against mine, that his lips don’t spread warmth through my chest, but so does gin.
 “Tanya’s having afters at her’s, anyone fancy it?” Bri asks, wobbling on weakened ankles as she walks over to us, arms wrapped tightly around her petite frame to fight the cold.
 The question is indirectly aimed at Deb, something only Harry and I seem to notice, a smirk shared between the two of us at this realisation. It is the same pattern every time we go out and the night starts to draw to a close. The potential for an end to the evening is too much for them, not wanting to say goodbye to each other, but not having enough courage to specifically ask the other to spend time together. So, the roll of cupid falls on my shoulders once again.
 The moment I hear Deb agree to go with Bri, I speak up, “No way am I staying up until five with you two chain-smokers. I’m going home.”
 “So boring,” Bri teases, a grateful look in her eyes. I send her a quick wink when Deb is distracted, asking Harry if he will join.
 “Nah, think I’ll skip it as well. Make sure this one gets home alright.” He responds, a gentle squeeze to the flesh of my hips.
 “Sure,” Deb smirks before turning to Bri.
 The two women look at each other for a moment, a soft haze of smoke and stifled attraction surrounding them.
 “Have a good time,” I interrupt, snapping them out of their unintentional staring contest. Each gives me a hug, desperate to hide their pinkened cheeks from the other. “Be safe, I love you both.”
 “You too!” Bri hollers as they begin to walk away.
 “Use protection!” Deb shouts across the crowded area, eliciting embarrassed giggles from Harry and myself as we hide our faces in the other’s neck.
 “You staying at mine tonight?” I query as I lift my head from the crook of his neck. “Missed having you round.”
 “I’d love that,” Harry says, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “Want to go now?”
 I nod and smile as he finishes the last of his drink in one gulp, Adam’s apple bobbing harshly. A large drop spills from the corner of his mouth and he clumsily wipes it away with the pad of his thumb. His hand slips into mine as we cut through the crowd in the same direction as Deb and Bri
 A smirk graces my lips as I picture the pair sat in a car together, completely oblivious to their mutual attraction. Since the moment they were introduced at my birthday party a few years back, they have tiptoed around each other, both deeply infatuated but too scared to make the first move. Sometimes I worry that they are too similar for their own good, that they will dance around the subject forever.
 “Who do you think will make the first move?” I ask Harry as we walk to find a nearby takeaway, my body on autopilot as Harry leads me through quiet London backstreets.
 “Probably me.” Harry says absentmindedly, focussing the majority of his attention on checking the road is clear before we cross.
 “Deb or Bri, idiot.” I chuckle, my legs working overtime as I try to keep instep with his long strides.
 “Oh, Deb, guaranteed.” Harry posits, holding the door to the almost empty chip shop open for me to step inside.
 “I’m not so sure,” I say as we join the queue, the group of girls in front of us swaying, most holding their high heels as they discuss condiments. “At uni, Deb was always too shy to go up to girls, so I had to do it for her, but Bri’s a model you know, confidence kind of comes with the territory.”
 “Not necessarily. Bet you a tenner it’s Deb.” He smirks, hand already outstretched to shake mine.
 “You’re on,” I shake his hand firmly, the mischievous twinkle in his eye charming me more than I would like to admit. “Want to split some chips?”
 * * *
 By the time we pile into my flat, the food is almost cold, the two of us quickly chowing down as we collapse on to the sofa. We work like a well-oiled machine, falling into our habits of pouring water, kicking our shoes off, and switching on some late-night television.
 “I know I’ve said this a hundred times,” I start softly as my wild eyes attempt to focus on him under the dim light, “But it’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you, man.”
 “C’mere,” Harry grins, pulling me into a tight squeeze before we settle side by side into the cushions. “Been meaning to tell you, you look great tonight.” Harry smiles cheekily.
 “You going to try and snog me again?” I tease through a mouthful of chips.
 “You do look irresistible right now.” Harry chimes, wiping a smudge of ketchup from the corner of my mouth before popping his finger in his mouth to clean it.
 There is a brief pause, a second or so of silence before Harry speaks again, picking through the box of chips for the perfect one.
 “I liked kissing you.”
 “Do it again then.” I tease, wondering if he will take the bait or laugh it off.
 Turning in his seat until he is facing me, a curious smirk plays at the corners of his mouth. For a second, his lips pucker in thought.
 It is all I can do not to let out a little breath of laughter. The situation is bizarre, undoubtedly. Yet, there is a distinct sensation of calm filtering through my body, as though no matter the outcome, I would be satisfied.
 “I shouldn’t… Haven’t had sex in months, scared it might stir up something in me.” With that, he turns his attention to the TV, slouching down into the sofa cushions.
 “Harry,” I utter softly.
 “Hmm?” he asks, my gaze fixed on his jaw as he clenches and releases it absentmindedly.
 “Kiss me.”
 Turning to face me yet again, this time with an incredibly serious look on his face, his eyes dark and stern. While he observes me, I take a sip of my water. His eyes follow me intensely, watching my lips part before lowering the glass and swallowing, his throat bobbing with mine.
 “Are you sure?”
 “Beyond sure.” I tell him with enough confidence for the both of us.
 Our lips meet somewhere between us, lazily melting together as we sink into the sofa cushions. We move in a blur, arms around each other, hands caressing faces.
 Our clothes tangle as we hastily undress ourselves, giggling as the garments collide on their way to the living room floor.
 “This is stupid, isn’t it?” Harry grins before connecting our lips over and over.
 “Completely.” I smirk between tequila-flavoured kisses.
 “Condom?” he asks, voice slightly muffled by the flesh of my shoulder.
 “Implant.” I tell him breathlessly, mentally reminding myself of my appointment to get it replaced next week.
 Harry just nods into the crook of my neck, a hand reaching down to position himself. The giggles fade away as we become fully connected, slipping naturally into a symbiotic amalgamation of limbs and lips. It is hasty and sweaty, each of our movements oozing with lust. Our bodies work quickly with one another, only personal need driving us until we pull our clothes back on.
 “Nice.” I tease, reaching my hand out for a high-five.
 “Loser.” Harry laughs, pulling me into his side. A quick kiss is pressed to my temple and we turn back to the television as if nothing had happened.
 * * *
 The morning after, us having sex has already turned into a private joke. The two of us teasing one another relentlessly as we nurse our hangovers with a fry up.
 “Never going to be able to look at you the same way, not after seeing your face when I made you—”
 “Made me? I don’t think you could make me do anything.” I interrupt, bumping Harry’s hip with my own as I plate up our late breakfast.
 “That so?” he replies, a smirk strongly evident in his voice.
 I am about to reply when his hands slip around my waist from behind, gently raising until they cup the underneath of my breasts.
 “Do you want to eat or not?” I laugh, motioning to the pan of eggs in one of my hands and the spatula in the other.
 “Fine.” He grins, giving my boobs a quick, soft squeeze before moving away.
 We sit down on the barstool by the island and I instantly dig in, desperate to eat away the throbbing in my head.
 “Bri’s sad because she didn’t make a move on Deb.” Harry tells me as he types a response quickly on his phone.
 “Telling her about last night to cheer her up?” I joke. Harry pauses, locking his phone and placing it down on the cool granite surface.
 “God, can you imagine how much shit they’d give us if they found out?”
 “I won’t tell if you don’t.” I offer a hand for him to shake.
 “Deal.” He says quickly, stretching out his own hand to meet mine.
 * * *
 It isn’t until a few weeks later that I get to see Harry again. Work consumes us both as always. Harry finalises a promotion timeline for his new album while I travel across Sicily, working with temperamental models in the baking summer sun. I spend the first day back at home, lazing on the sofa and doing laundry. Almost immediately upon exiting the plane, I miss the heat. Late summer in London provides to be drizzle-filled and grey for the majority of the time. The only time sunshine rears its head is the day of Harry’s party. Typical, really. That man even has mother nature on his side.
 After a sluggish and jetlagged day spent doing laundry and replying to emails, I drink as much caffeine as possible before heading over to Harry’s place. He had wanted tonight to be as intimate as possible. Only family, friends and a few members of the production team received the invitation to his house to hear his new album before the public get their hands on it. The select few of us, after checking our names with the security team at the gatehouse, make our way through the enclosed community, walking right in through his unlocked front door.
 Once inside, I cannot help the smirk that tugs at my lips as I imagine Harry organising this party. The house is covered in pink and blue like a fancy gender reveal and all I can picture is a roll of tape between Harry’s teeth as he insisted on hanging streamers himself.
 Quickly, I am distracted by the décor when a table filled with flutes of champagne catches my eye. With one in my hand, I turn a corner and see him immediately. He stands in the centre of the lounge while those around him sit dotted around the space, watching as he speaks animatedly. His hands move about wildly as he talks, eliciting laughter from the room as he continues to tell a story I already recognise. Just as he reaches the climax of the tale, his gaze floats towards me. Joy seems to settle around us as everyone cracks up at the punchline of the anecdote, the two of us simply sharing soft smiles by way of a greeting. I raise my glass slightly and he understands, continuing to entertain the room effortlessly as I join the masses, simply observing and enjoying him.
 “Alright?” I hear a familiar voice utter groggily. I turn to see Bri clutching an espresso martini tightly, majority already drunk. “Knackered, mate.” She confirms as she presses herself against me in lieu of a hug.
 “Know the feeling,” I sympathise, feeling the formidable aches of travelling.
 Bri and I swap stories about where we have recently flown in from as we settle amongst the group, finding a small loveseat brought in to accommodate the increased number of occupants.
 Collectively, the room falls silent. Harry, charmingly humble as always, utters a few words of thanks to us all for our support during the writing, recording, and production processes, before we relax into the evening as the first track begins to play. Thankfully, Harry has already witnessed my initial reactions to each and every song, including a few which did not make the cut, so I need not worry about emotional outbursts in front of some of his nearest and dearest. Each track reminds me of the nights he would sneak me demos or voice memos of certain lyrics and riffs he was particularly proud of at that moment. Hearing the album again now brings back a serious swell of pride that fills my heart right to its capacity, emotion beginning to fill my eyes as we listen to the stories of his heart. Each sorrowful ballad and upbeat tune breaks and reforms my heart repeatedly and I am once again, completely enamoured with him and his talent.
 * * *
 “My girl,” Harry calls out happily, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “What did you think of the album?”
 “I’ve already heard it.” I laugh, absentmindedly leaning into his warmth, grateful for it in the slight chill of his back garden.
 “You weren’t supposed to though.” He whispers, lowering his head as he colludes with me, “This was meant to be the first time anyone outside of production heard it so… shh.”
 Impossible to hold back my grin at his ridiculously over the top nature, I just give him a toothy nod before placing my left index finger against my lips.
 “I won’t tell if you don’t.” I say softly.
 “Where have I heard that before?” he grins, tapping a finger against his chin as he pretends to search his memory. His gaze trickles over my body, eyebrows pulling together when he notices the giant purple bruise spread across my upper left arm. “How did you do that?”
 Gently, he takes my arm in his hand, lifting it softly to take a better look at the yellowish edges.
 “Was time to get my implant removed, back to condoms for a few weeks.” I tell him casually, not realising the suggestive nature of my words until he replies.
 “Going to miss the way you feel for a few weeks then.” His tone is so casual that it stuns me for a moment, completely unable to think of a witty retort.
 I had assumed that our drunken fling was just that. Never had the thought crossed my mind that he might want to do it again. Okay, that’s a lie. I have thought of little else at night than the thought of Harry on top of me again, his hand replacing my own as I bring myself to climax.
 However, watching the way he observes my reaction sparks a disgusting greed within me.
 “Hang out when everyone leaves?” he asks, seeing the fire behind my eyes and matching it with his own.
 It is all I can do to nod and not pull him aside and let my body mould to his.
 The evening passes quicker than I had expected, perhaps my slight exhaustion seems to warp my internal clock, making hours feel like minutes. Regardless, before I know it, Harry and I find ourselves on his bed, lips and limbs entangled.
 “I’m really proud of you.” I manage to mumble against his lips in a brief interlude in which they are parted from my own.
 “That means a lot.” Harry utters back, equally hindered by my lips against his. Neither of us mind though. If anything, these small and restrained interactions seem to encourage us, raising the heat in the room as hands grasp and grip the other. Our bodies flush together, desperately meeting in any way possible as if trying to verbalise what we do not dare talk about.
 We move much slower than the last time, savouring each and every touch as we take turns removing the other’s clothes. Contrary from our previous experience, there is nothing greedy about our movements. Instead, a different type of need drives our bodies to intertwine.
 I manage to pull myself away from him for long enough to mutter, “Condom?”
 Harry stills above me, eyes averted as he thinks deeply before speaking, “Think there’s some in the bathroom, sorry, I’ll be right back.” With a swift kiss to my forehead, he dashes from the room into his en suite.
 “Cute bum.” I call after him, enjoying the way his hips wiggle with his quick pace.
 “Cheers!” he hollers back, shortly followed by the sound of skin on skin.
 The idea of him slapping his own backside leaves a smile on my face which lasts until he returns with a single condom, declaring it to be the last one and making some teasing comment about how lucky I am. His words fall on deaf ears, however, as I feel the energy in the room shift. My eyes glue to his body as he sits beside me, taking both of my hands in his and pulling me to sit up straight. The muscles of his body grow taut under his skin as he moves me to sit between his open legs. My feet lock around his back, his hands mirroring the same position around my waist as our lips meet yet again.
 Into each other we sink deeper, chest meeting chest, rising and falling together. A gentle hand lifts to tuck away a lock of my hair before settling against my cheek, softly grazing his fingertips across the tender flesh of my neck. His lips are like runny honey against my body as they trail across my jaw and trickle down the column of my throat, catching my breath between them. The tip of a thumb under my chin keeps my head high as his lips work lower and lower. My own lips are parted as I melt beneath him.
 “Harry,” I gasp, unintentionally making him stop dead in his tracks. Panic instantly flooding through my veins, I cast my gaze downwards to check on him. He looks up at me with soft but needy eyes. “What is it?” I ask cautiously, my hand subconsciously clearing the rogue tendrils of hair away from his forehead.
 “I like the way you say my name.” he utters lowly, so quiet it almost seems as though he is afraid of my reaction.
 Unsure of what words could quell whatever doubts he is battling with; I replace them with a soft kiss to his lips. One side of his face cupped in my hand, I feel him lean into me, eyelids fluttering shut just long enough to savour the feeling but not so long as to make it obvious that it was his aim.
 “Harry,” I whisper, just loud enough to catch his attention and bring his eyes back to mine, “I want you to…”
 I falter, unsure of the right word to use here. None seem to fit just right, either feeling too blunt and devoid of emotion or too far the other way.
 Regardless of semantics, Harry understands and slips his hips away slightly. I watch as his steady hands tear the wrapper open and roll the condom down his shaft. Without another moment’s hesitation, his hands are back on my body, grasping at the flesh at my sides as he pulls me into his lap. With every move he makes, his lips provide accompaniment. Kisses spread across my face and neck, down to my collarbone and breasts, celebrating each and every part they come into contact with.
 Desperate to feel every part of him, I raise my hips. Upon realising my intentions, Harry meets my gaze, watching me with awe-filled eyes as I slip our bodies together. I feel him gasp against the bare skin of my chest. For a moment, our actions are slow, adjusting to the overwhelming feeling of one another. Our hips rock gently into each other, soft moans and sharp inhalations fill the otherwise quiet bedroom, bouncing off the walls I have begged him countless times to add more colour to. His hands grip the flesh of my hips, reaching down sporadically to grope at my cheeks. With each squeeze and scratch, I move faster against him, head thrown back in pleasure as we repeatedly hit every delicious spot.
 His hands caress every part of me, truly making love to my body as heated gasps slip past my lips. Our bodies work as a chemical reaction of lust and care, eyes locked as we move quicker and more urgently. Everything we need to say we say with a kiss of the neck, a scratch of bare skin, and a bliss-filled moan.
 Two hands slip behind me, swiftly but securely lowering me into the pillows of the bed before returning to my hips and waist. His hands grip me tighter as this new position allows him to sink deeper into me, his body slowing temporarily against mine to savour the feeling of being fully complete. His eyes never leave mine, pupils contracting and dilating, telling me everything I need to know.
 My gaze flicks down to the point where our bodies meet, watching in lust-filled awe as we connect. I feel Harry do the same as his forehead rests against mine, hands slipping to grasp at my thighs, squeezing and moulding the flesh in his hands. A groan leaves my lips at the sensation of his adoration. At the sound, his hips snap harshly against my own, eliciting louder, wilder moans. Encouraged beyond belief, Harry chases my pleasure, speeding up the movement of his body against my own. His head drops down to my neck, suckling and licking at the skin growing tender under his control.
 Lifting his upper body from mine, he pushes gently against one of my legs until it is perpendicular to my body. Instantly, I melt beneath him, this new angle driving me into a state of madness as he hits harder and deeper, watching with animalistic pride as I clutch around desperately for something to cling to. My fingertips tangle in the bedsheets, eager to anchor myself as a hand slips between my legs. His fingers spin soft circles, their contrast to the speed and force of his hips sending me over the edge, body shuddering violently as he eases me back down. Harry utters soft words, gentle coos that bring me back to him and allow my eyes to unscrunch themselves. When I see him, laying atop me, face just inches from mine, the fire is burning brighter than I have ever seen it, something about watching the pleasure he brings me arousing every sense.
 “Fuck me,” I beg, my voice cracking from my raw throat but I don’t care. I need him.
 He gives me everything in him, using my body to feel good, knowing as well as I do that nothing could compare to the two of us. Even when his face contorts, jaw slack and breathing halted, I feel the care he has for me. His fingertips caress the softness of my skin, gently roaming the expanse of my body as I tether him to the Earth. Collapsing into me, he buries himself in the crook of my neck. My hands come up to encircle him, grazing up and down his back soothingly as he catches his breath.
 “You’re unreal.” Harry eventually mumbles against my skin, producing a breathy giggle from deep within my chest. He pulls away, rolling off me and quickly discarding the condom before laying beside me. Propping his head up with his hand, his body follows the contours of my side in order for us to constantly be touching. “I mean it.”
 I turn to him, tucking one knee between his and trying not to groan at the ache in my body.
 “I dig you too.” I say with a gentle, slightly exhausted smile.
 “Never said that,” he teases, earning a half-hearted frown which just makes him grin even harder. Slowly, his face falls serious, his brows pulling together as he contemplates the thought swimming around in his mind.
 “Tell me.” I whisper, a hand coming up to rest on the side of his face, thumb automatically caressing the stubble across his cheek.
 “Sometimes I think we’ll end up together.” He tells me quietly. My actions still, eyes flitting to his eyes to search for the tell-tale sign that he is just being mischievous. But there is only a hint of worry in those bright eyes.
 “Yeah?” I ask, quickly licking my lips to distract myself from the break in my voice, convincing myself that it is simply because my throat is still sore from moments ago.
 “Yeah.”
 We lay for a while like this, no words spoken, or action taken. I don’t think either of us would know what to do if we wanted to anyway. Instead we lay. His hand comes up to rest on top of mine, keeping me with him until the rise and fall of our chests sync and my eyelids grow heavy.
 “Tired?”
 “Little, still a bit jetlagged.” I mumble, already half-asleep despite my intentions to stay awake and look at him all night long.
 “Go to sleep.” He says softly before pressing a tender kiss to my hand. His lips work as an immediate sleep aid, relaxing every aching muscle and eradicating every stressful thought.
 * * *
 Three weeks pass by quickly, work overwhelms me yet again and I spend my days and nights at shoots, silently praying that each director I work with will be less of a diva than the last. Unfortunately, my prayers go unanswered. The increased workload begins to drain every last drop of lifeforce from me. My limbs ache with exhaustion, stomach never fully settled due to lack of sufficient sustenance.
 “I’m knackered, think I might be getting the flu.” I explain sleepily to Harry over FaceTime, my body slumping back into the heap of pillows in my unmade bed. His camera flips around from the beautifully clear blue sky above him to a concerned, slightly bearded Harry. “Have you shaved since you left?” I ask with a smirk.
 “This is my LA stache.” He grins, smudging and finger and thumb across the width of the hair above his top lip.
 “I miss you.” I whisper, not meaning the words to leave my subconscious.
 “I miss you too,” Harry smiles, his eyes softening as an excited shade of light pink flushes his cheeks. “Hang out when I’m back?”
 I nod and agree to dinner next week before yawning and saying goodbye. Wrapping myself up in the cold duvet, the thought of seeing Harry soon stops me from slipping into sleep. My mind relives our last night together, each kiss and caress playing like a film. We should have talked about it before he left but, as per usual, our work-lives consumed us. What would he say about that night? Did he feel the difference in the way we moved? Is he just as freaked out by it?
 The next day, all doubts and fears are drained from my body, a care package waiting on my doorstep as I arrive home. Carrying the box inside, my eyes glance around the box in search of some sign to indicate the sender’s identity. I knew he had been the one responsible for it, but the contents just confirmed it. Tins of soup, orange juice, cold and flu medicine, a box of cherry bakewells (my absolute favourite comfort food), and an unbelievably soft pair of fluffy socks.
 Snapping a quick picture of the assortment, I send it to Harry with a string of appreciative words, tearing up due to his sweetness and my sickness.
 It does not matter what either of us thinks of feels about that night together, because at the end of the day, it is always going to be him and I, whatever form our relationship takes.
  * * *
 “You look like shit.” Deb greets as she presses a kiss to my cheek before allowing me to sit across from her and Bri. I fight the urge to roll my eyes and glance down at the menu laid across my plate. The majority of the options made my stomach churn, the thought of pushing eggs down my throat enough to make me gag.
 “Can’t shake this bug.” I grumble, sipping at my water as our waitress arrives.
 “Three mimosas please.” Bri smiles sweetly at her.
 “Oh, no, just two.” I correct, starting to break into a slight sweat. The waitress nods and excuses herself to fetch the girls their drinks, leaving them both to look at me with wide eyes and mouths agape. “My stomach has been in bits for weeks, no way I’m drinking and making myself puke again.”
 “Never thought this day would come... I mean its brunch, what else are we going to do?” Bri gasps in a dramatically solemn tone.
 “Yeah, can’t remember the last time you didn’t drink with us.” Deb frowns, clearly slightly upset at losing one of her drinking buddies. “Except that one time at uni.”
 A smirk ghosts over my lips at the memory. Deb and I, still in our first year, sat in the pub with two pints on the table, both untouched as we watched the pregnancy test stashed in my bag slowly reveal just one line.
 Slowly, the smile begins to fall from my face, Deb mirroring me as the penny slowly drops for the both of us.
 “When was the last time you got your period?” she asks quietly.
 “What?” Bri asks in utter confusion, excluded from our moment of telepathy.
 “I can’t remember,” I admit in a whisper.
 “Jesus Christ.” Deb sighs, the colour draining from her face as her hand comes up to rub at her forehead nervously.
 “I had my implant taken out, the doctor said my hormones would be unpredictable so I haven’t really thought about it.” I rush, desperately trying to defend myself for not noticing the absence.
 “Oh,” Deb says, instantly perking back up as if nothing had even happened. “To be fair, when was the last time you had sex anyway?”
 She speaks as if the question were simple a throwaway comment, a small joke to lighten the mood. Of course, she would think that, the last time I spoke to the girls about my sex life, it was to complain about its lack of existence. I haven’t quite found the right way to tell them that Harry and I are doing whatever it is we are doing.
 “About a month ago.” I admit quietly, unlocking my phone to flick through my calendar, mainly to avoid the harsh gaze of two of my best friends.
 “What? Who with?” Bri asks giddily, however her excitement is drastically overshadowed by Deb’s probing.
 “You used protection though?”
 “Of course we did, I’m not an idiot.” I say, feeling myself getting wound up as the blood seems to drain from my body.
 There is no way I am. We were safe. There’s no way.
 When I look up to meet their gaze, however, both girls look at me with such sympathetic gazes that it takes everything in me not to burst into tears.
 “Want to get a test to be sure?” Bri asks gently, somehow instantly caught up and fully aware of the sheer internal panic I am feeling.
 I nod and we immediately leave the table. Bri takes my hand and waits with me as Deb quickly pays for the drinks that did not even arrive.
 “It’ll be okay,” Bri whispers to me, her thumb soft against the back of my hand.
 “Yeah,” I nod, trying to shake of the severe sensation of dread smothering me. Swallowing hard, I manage to meet her eye. “Probably just a scare, right? We’ll laugh about it in an hour.”
 She does not reply. No one speaks as we walk to the closest shop, thankfully Deb lives close by and is able to source a test and usher us home before I can overthink too much.
 I won’t be. What are the odds? Condoms are 98% effective, I checked in the health aisle as Bri went to pay. 98% is far too high to be stressing out over a few potential symptoms.
 The girls sit on the edge of Deb’s bathtub, watching me pee and trying to crack jokes to lighten the mood as I place the test on the side and wash my hands, looking anywhere but the stick.
 “These situations make me so glad to be gay.” Deb utters to Bri with a ghost of a smirk.
 “Totally.” Bri says with a small giggle.
 “Not helping.” I groan, pacing back and forth in the small bathroom, my stomach squeezing tighter and tighter into a knot.
 We sit in silence for the remaining few minutes. Until Bri finally breaks the tension in the room.
 “Do you want one of us to look?”
 “No.” I say quickly, undoubtedly wide-eyed.
 With a long inhale and slow exhale, trying to draw out these last few seconds of naivety, I give a small nod before approaching the countertop.
 Two lines.
 “Maybe its faulty, do another one.” Deb reasons.
 “You okay?” Bri asks me gently as our friend digs wildly through the box for the second test stick.
 “It’s positive.” I whisper, eyes glazing over slightly as I stare down at the white plastic. “I’m pregnant.”
 * * *
 “Have you told the dad yet?” Deb asks, her voice crackling through the phoneline as I walk into the hospital’s multi-storey car park.
 “No,” I sigh, ready to defend my decision to her for the fourth time since the three of us stood in her bathroom, two positive tests laying across the countertop. “I told you, I wanted to know my options before I tell him. Gather some research, you know?”
 “How was it?” she asks as I unlock my car door and slump into the driver’s seat.
 I give her a quick run through of my appointment, from taking yet another test, it coming back positive yet again, to discussing the three main paths from here. Abortion, adoption, or parenthood. Repeating all the information the doctor had given me makes me want to be sick, all of the statistics and medical jargon feeling foul in my mouth. This was not supposed to be my life. I was not meant to get knocked up by my friend who, oh yeah, just so happens to be internationally acclaimed musician Harry Styles. Blocking the image of telling him from my mind, I focus back in on Deb’s voice.
 “You know I’ll be here through whatever you choose, don’t you? I know you’re scared, and I know this isn’t exactly ideal but you’ll make the right choice and me and Bri will do whatever you need. We’ll hold your hand if the dad won’t.” she tells me, unintentionally causing my eyes to fill with tears.
 “Love you Deborah.” I mutter.
 “Love you loser.” She grumbles back, eliciting a teary chuckle from my lips.
 As the call ends, my head lolls back against the headrest, eyes closing momentarily as I allow myself a few seconds of calm to be grateful for my angelic friends. Both had offered to come with me today, or drive me at the very least, but I had insisted on doing this alone. I could not have dealt with any more eyes on me as I was told ways in which I could deal with my situation. An absentminded guilty hand stretches across my stomach at the thought of my ‘situation’.
 Adoption just would not be an option. Unless I somehow managed to avoid Harry for nine months and give birth in secret. Even then I would probably just have to remove myself from his life forever, unable to take the pain of looking at his beautifully unaware face and being stricken with the loathing of giving up the only thing that would ever be just ours. No, that is not an option.
 So, my choices become drastically limited. Both life-changing in their own ways. Automatically, my brain begins to form lists of pros and cons as I drive out of the city.
 I do want children someday, and people always say that there is no perfect time.
 No fucking kidding.
 Things would be so much simpler if I was not pregnant. I could live my life and Harry could live his. Surely, he will not want the burden of a family at such a young age. I know all about his hopes and dreams. I know how much music means to him, how incredible he feels after each and every performance. How could I take that away from him?
 The thought of not telling him circles around my mind as I sit in the familiar traffic of the route. I could make both of our lives so much simpler if I just made the decision for the both of us. But that is just it, I cannot take that from him. He has to know at the very least.
 Anyway, who is to say that he will even want to be involved? Perhaps this has happened before. I have heard the stories of tour. What if he already has an illegitimate child out there and simply does not care? Maybe I have been something to pass the time and the reality of our situation will come crashing down around us and make him want nothing to do with me. Would I keep the baby then?
 The possibility of Harry wanting nothing to do with his child leaves my mind almost as quickly as it enters it. This is Harry. He has wanted a family for as long as I have known him, he loves kids. Am I depriving him of a potential future with his partner and legitimate children? Would I be in the background of family photos, not even Harry’s ex, just some woman he got pregnant and has to watch him live happily for the sake of her child’s relationship with their father?
 Anger bubbles up inside my ribcage as I pull into the garage attached to the house. With a frustrated sigh, I turn the engine off and step out of the car. How could I let myself be so stupid? No one in their right mind thinks that sleeping with their friend is going to be problem free. Clearly this is a sign, a punishment for being stupid enough to open myself up to the potential of a--
 “HEY!” I hear him shout from his front door, quickly dashing out barefoot to come and greet me.
 For a split-second when I look at him, I forget why I am here. When he wraps his arms around me and pulls me so tightly against him that I worry I might suffocate, all I feel is his warmth and excitement at seeing my best friend home at last. Until he lets me go, and my stomach sinks to my feet.
 “Lets go inside.” My voice is hushed, barely above a whisper when he lets go of me. I pull a smile across my face until he nods and walks bouncily into the house, a half-step ahead of me.
  “I’m glad you came over, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Harry says, failing terribly at hiding a grin as we move to his kitchen.
 I sit myself on one of his bar stools, gesturing for him to put down the kettle in his hand and sit next to me.
 “Me first.” I tell him, my face so solemn and opposite to his that were the circumstances different I may have found it comedic.
 “It’s kind of a biggie though.” Harry’s smile is completely unaffected by my tone, so wrapped up in getting out what he wants to say that panic starts to bubble up into my throat at the thought of not being brave enough to just tell him what I need to. “You know that night before I left…”
 He looks to me with the most hopeful and kind eyes, making me dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands as the realisation sets in that I am probably about to break his heart and have him hate me.
 “I’m pregnant.” I force out, voice cracking halfway.
 My heart does not thump in my chest like I had expected it to, nor does my stomach churn as I watch him try to process the weight of my words in the slightest. Inside, I feel a sick sense of calm, potentially relieved, potentially too numb to feel the world disintegrating around me.
 “You’re… Sorry, say that again.” His eyes search mine desperately for some sign that this is just a cruel joke. Now the pain resurges, wrapping itself tightly around my lungs and squeezing hard.
 “I’m pregnant,” I whisper guiltily.
 I wait for Harry to speak again, but he doesn’t. He just stares into mid-air, chest heaving up and down as he attempts to make the slightest amount of sense out of this situation.
 “About four weeks,” I explain softly, secretly trying to coax him back to me, selfishly desperate to see my friend’s kind eyes. “I saw a doctor today, talked about my options…whether to keep it.”
 “Our options.” he whispers, I think mainly to himself before his eyes free themselves from their visual tether and meet my gaze. They are glassy and it takes all I have not to reach out and take his hand and promise him that it will all be okay, because I honestly do not know that it will and I can’t lie to him.
 “Our options.” I repeat quietly, ignoring the slight leap of my heart at his sentiment and quickly reminding myself that he has not committed to anything. “I know it’s a lot to process, and you don’t have to say or do anything… but do you have any… strong preferences?”
 “Yeah,” he says lowly, “but it’s your decision, isn’t it?”
 My heart sinks and throat dries, all moisture heading towards my eyes. With a large, pained swallow, I sit up straight, avoiding his eye.
 “Yeah, sorry, I just thought I should tell you.” My voice is quiet, afraid of its own weakness. I stand from the stool, running a hand through my hair out of nervousness.
 “What are you doing?” Harry asks quickly, eyes panic-stricken as he stands up in front of me, catching one of my hands in his.
 “Going, I didn’t mean to bother you.” I admit, trying my hardest but failing to hide my heart breaking.
 “No, no you—I don’t want that.” He says, only now do I notice the texture in his voice, “We don’t leave each other.”
 His eyes are every bit as tear-filled as my own, the sight enough to encourage the water in my eyes to slip gently down my face. Standing in Deb’s bathroom, she and Bri had wrapped me in a gentle hug as violent sobs wracked through my body. Now, however, as Harry and I pull each other into an embrace tight enough to keep up anchored to the world, we cry softly.
 “We’ll figure it out.” He whispers, resting his chin on top of my head. “Promise.”
 * * *
 For hours Harry and I sit at his kitchen island, debating our next move. With frustrated sighs and tearful moments, conversation delves into the logistics of each and every possibility at our disposal.
 As predicted, Harry is not keen on the prospect of adoption. The notion that his child might discover their father’s identity and potentially make it public, could destroy his image, his career, everything he has worked so hard for. I tell him I understand, that I had thought this would be his fear, and that our options were narrowed down to two.
 There is quiet when the topic is first brought up, the eight-letter word stunning him silence.
 “It’s your body.” He manages to whisper.
 The groan that passes my lips is unavoidable, having heard those exact words from Deb, Bri, the doctor, and now Harry.
 “I wish someone could just tell me the right thing to do.” I sigh, holding my head up on the counter, fingers pressing lightly into my eyes to try and relieve the stress headache that has been lingering for the past few days.
 “I’m sorry.” Harry utters quietly beside me.
 He sits with his hands in his lap, anxiously picking at his cuticles as he watches me with a frown.
 “I didn’t mean for…” he doesn’t finish the sentiment, but I understand.
 “Me neither,” I admit, softening my gaze and taking one of his hands in mine to stop him from ruining his nailbeds.
 He gazes at my hand on his for a moment, afraid of moving and losing the contact. It twists into mine until our palms are touching, squeezing the width of all my fingers with one gentle contraction of his muscles.
 Before I let myself get too caught up in the tender comfort of his skin against mine, I speak up, “Fuck it, pros and cons list.”
 I stand up from the stool and find a notepad in one of his messier kitchen drawers.
 “No judgment.” I tell him, handing him a pen before making a table with my own.
 We pause for a moment, and I list something in the negative column.
 Everything will change
 Harry follows suit and leaves a few words beneath my handwriting.
 IMPACT ON CAREERS?
 I cannot help but nod my head before we continue to add to the paper, reasoning for and against our little situation.
 The process takes longer than I had expected, Harry arguing with some of my cons and suggesting that they are easily fixable or are, in fact, pros.
 “Okay, so cons,” I start once we both lay our pens down. “Everything will change, impact on careers, would we be good parents?, don’t want Y/N to have to deal with media, no privacy, custody, would have to co-parent, impact of pregnancy on day to day, this is all a bit mental.”
 Harry nods, urging for me to continue to the counterarguments.
 “Pros… We both want kids someday and a friendship relationship could create a good support system for the kid… Think the list is pretty clear then.” Looking at him, we both understand logically what we should do.
 “Yeah.” Harry says quietly, eyes burrowing deeply into my own before picking up his pen one more time and adding into the left-hand column:
 WE’D HAVE A BABY
 His eyes seem to take forever to meet mine, flicking down to where my bottom lip is caught tightly between my teeth.
 I pick up my own pen and leave my final note, sealing the decision for us.
 Its our baby.
 Silence fizzes around us, its intensity growing as our eyes meet and have a conversation that we cannot quite pass to our mouths. He looks to me nervously, chewing at his cheek, his eyes holding back the hope building inside him. I want to tell him that I am still scared, that everything about the future is so uncertain. I cannot do it. I cannot deprive him of the joy he is feeling, however shrouded in terror it is.
 “So…” he eventually manages to push out, a slight smile creeping on to his lips.
 My mouth mirrors him, the muscles in my cheeks aching slightly from the sensation after not being used for the past few days.
 “Yeah.” I let out in a shaky breath, eyes watering yet again but this time I welcome it.
 “Should we celebrate?” Harry asks quietly, his voice suddenly apprehensive.
 “As long as it includes takeaway and a film.” I say, too exhausted to go anywhere or deal with the consequences that come along with being next to Harry in the outside world. Pushing the nagging dread at the thought of people finding out and commenting on us, I pull up Deliveroo on my phone and we settle on the sofa in his living room.
 “What to Expect When You’re Expecting?” Harry teases as he flicks through Netflix.
 “Too soon.” I reply, smirking down at my phone.
 “Sorry,” he says, not at all sorry for getting a positive reaction from me as if our lives would just slip back to how they used to be.
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rataltouille · 4 years
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HOUSE PLANTS, UPDATE 1
this has been long overdue. typical, really. [novel intro found here.]
the story is currently eight chapters in but it's also a very strange eight chapters. i’m not really happy with half of these words because they're unnecessary ™ and dull ™ and serve no purpose whatsoever ™. i’m simply choosing to ignore that i need to cut them out. :’] here’s a note i made that perfectly captures my feelings so far:
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before we go into the excerpts, i want to talk a bit about how house plants is structured because the format is whack. each chapter ranges from 3000-4000 words. A few vignettes, around 500 words, are sprinkled between these chapters. the chapters narrate events from the fictive past, while the vignettes are snippets into the fictive present [the point from where lilith is retelling the story]. additionally, an important plot thread is told entirely in the form of an epistolary [through letters] and so there's a bit more of confusion to navigate through. fun times.
and now for the excerpts. they're from the first three chapters and are very weird out of context. i think that each update will feature excerpts from three consequent chapters, but that may change as we get closer to spoiler land.
excerpts:
chapter one
the novel kicks off with an odd vignette featuring an unhinged willow and an innocent lilith. chronologically, this is set way back, the earliest scene ever, around when lilith was ten or eleven. it’s meant to establish a sense of unease and to thread the unsettling undertone i’m going for. it's also major foreshadowing but we don't talk about that here. i’m not giving away much because there's not many excerpts to scrape out from a dialogue-heavy vignette like this.
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”Here, let me help, mother.”
I tried guiding your palms to the rim of the pot, but you moved them away. From the brief touch, my fingers came away with moisture. On second glance, your knuckles were bathed in sweat. Your veins pulsed and your hands shivered. You gave me a wide-eyed glance, dumped the plant atop the brown, and stood up. You wiped the dirt away on your jeans. From below, with sunlight teetering over your golden hair, you were a personification of God. But were you, really? Does God fear their children? Does God volunteer to garden? I didn't know what God truly meant. I don't now either. But I’m certain it wasn't you.
”Sorry, Lilith. My pollen allergy is acting up.”
It's stunning how it ran in our blood, lying effortlessly.
chapter two
immediately after this we’re pulled off into the linear non-vignette chapter thing, aka the second chapter. [god what am i doing with this structure]. it starts with a soft little reminiscent bit about juniper?? i’m exploiting the tense a lot but it's been fun. (:
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The first time she smiled at me is knit into me, like I’m not myself without it. I’m not. She breathed change and I ran with it. Whenever she gazed at me, with sunset dripping behind her head, or with rain clouds dotting her hairline, she’d smile. It was the sound of a ukulele in a winter draft, the kiss of dew on my favourite hemlock, the fond mythical curl of my father’s arms around me. There’s a phantom of love everywhere, and I almost caught it sneaking around her. Even now, Juniper dozes so soundly; she’s replaced everything I wanted you to be and everything you never were. You’d know, of course. You always have.
willow is officially introduced soon after, and so is one of the major plot threads, i.e. lilith’s correspondence with her dad. this excerpt is to show how the family feel about each other became, like i mentioned, there’s a lot of tea to be split here. not gonna lie, this paragraph reads as kinds pure.
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You— the town called you Wistful Willow, but they did so behind your back and on postcards to neighbours— had a special lilt in your tone every time you spoke his name. ”Isac,” your lips would curl, almost a smile, and I’d smile back. You loved it, the sound of his name. It had become a ritual for us, pouring our sorrow and joy and unrest and comfort into those two syllables. A fallback plan, I suppose; there was always father to rely on amidst chaos.
willow is constantly at home and she’s probably not seen the outside world in a million years. she either cooks, reads, sits in a bathtub, or does everything at the same time. not odd at all.
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The bathroom door, thick oak painted ivory, was right across where I stood. The house was large and empty, and I had three places— study, bedroom, garden— to myself. I lived only with you, so it was mostly quiet, except on Saturdays when we got father’s mail and watched TV together. That Saturday we had seen an old movie from the 70s, a random romance that neither of us cared for, but watched out of duty.
The door was shut. From it came the sound of pages rustling, not unlike a delicate breeze playing with the fronds of croton plants. I knocked softly.
”Come in, ” you said, a splash of water punctuating your voice.
I entered to find you half-immersed in the bathtub, one hand holding a novel, the other limp across the rim. There lingered the scent of soapy water, rose-tinted, and all over the tiled walls was the water’s reflection, a glow of opulence. You were half-naked, your garments drifting like algae. Your habit of reading in the bathtub had been increasing lately. You looked at me, questioning.
there’s also the introduction of lilith’s best friends marcy and faun, where they lay down in the middle of a field after a tiring cricket match and banter all through the evening. i’m really enjoying the trio’s friendship; it's both fun to write and they’re just so pure.
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”If you insult Henry one more time, Marce...”
”He actually named the butterfly.” Her eyes were wide and amused; she dug up mud with her nails and flicked it upwards, glanced at me. ”Lilith. He named his fucking butterfly.”
”Faun, it's dead. You keep it in a box, ” I said.
”The dead don't magically lose their names, ” he countered.
Our laughter drafted into town. I don't think it heard.
chapter three
this is kind of uneventful but it sets up some major subplots. i might push it to later in the book, but i’m happy with where it it's right now. lilith randomly keeps reminiscing throughout so that’s convenient. this excerpt is about willow and thus is unreliable as hell. willow ain't good and lilith ain't 100% sincere narrating this right now, so don't let its pureness fool you.
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People in town, I’d hear, found you odd and unsociable, cold and distant. I always scoffed when they told me so. They only knew the Willow who never attended community gatherings, who’d gaze out absentmindedly from the porch, who’d more so see than observe, hear than listen. They didn't know the Willow who was my mother, who hated loud noises, who loved her novels with a passion, who spoke so serenely— and rarely— that you hung onto her every word. Only I saw this side of you, and that suited me just fine.
there’s a scene where lilith [accidentally] spies on marcy and another guy. their conversation makes lilith tangent off in her head.
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Marcy spoke detachedly, like she was speaking through a filter of not caring. I worried for her and her charade. It didn't help that scented letters confessing love often found their way to her locker, or that roses were shoved in her face as if her admirers loved her so much that they forgot she was allergic to them. Idolisation and adoration took extreme forms; she was stalked for a month and sent death threats. She would put on a disguise of indifference and seem unbothered, but at night she’d soak her pillow and lose sleep, then inform us the next day about her insomnia so casually that we almost forgot how easily she hurt.
i’m not going to lie, the last line in this excerpt was just me indulging myself with the knowledge of the climax. i need to stop slipping in random tone changes like this lol.
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My walk home finished quick, though my feet expressed exhaustion. I was right on time, too; you were sitting by your coffee table, glasses crooked upon your nose, a new novel— this one a bright red sky, gold print, gauzy— resting beside warm coffee. You barely smiled, but that was because you were daydreaming. I was familiar with every tell: your eyes would tilt towards my forehead, your lips would stretch, your fingers would drum on whatever you were holding. I’d always let you be when you drowned into your head. Did you ever notice that, Mother? Have you ventured out of your mind to witness my efforts?
and finally some food for thought. yes, that pun was intended. i’ll see myself out.
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”Dinner’s ready, dear,” you called. I groaned out my fatigue and left my room, hoping to abandon my unflattering thoughts. In the kitchen, I helped you set the table. Soon we were both sipping hot carrot soup with a side of breadsticks. You were already invested in the novel. I held the spoon, the heat barely registering, and watched you drift through fiction and reality like a will o’ the wisp. Maybe I could read for escapism, too. It would do me good.
that’s all for today! thanks for reading so far; support is, as always, appreciated. hope you liked these excerpts ✨
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anika-ann · 4 years
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Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold - Pt.10
Alone Is What I Have
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 2200
Summary: Avenger!reader AU. Part 2 of Melting Hearts series. Part 1 HERE.
Snowflake is hiding. And she’s good at it. Also, reportes suck (at least in this story and chapter)
Warnings: swearing, light angst,… eh
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Story Masterlist
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Alone is what I have, alone protects me. (BBC’s Sherlock Holmes) …And what more, alone protects the people I care about the most.
Prague was an interesting city. You supposed it was not too much different from other European cities, the old buildings and a breath of history on every other corner meeting the modern steel and technology of today, but there was just some kind of an aura that got to you. The system of public transportation had been a bit confusing at first, but allowed countless different ways of getting where you needed, which also meant many different escape routes – you still were a pragmatic. And you liked it here.
What you not necessarily liked, but definitely appreciated for its convenience, was the anonymity and the nature of Czech people – it took them a lot of time to warm up to someone, no matter how warm-hearted they could become once they let someone in.
In the streets of Prague, you could easily recognize Praguer from a foreigner; unlike the foreigners, the habitants of Czech capital had developed an amazing ability of looking around and not seeing. They would meet the same person for the fourth time in the past hours and they simply wouldn’t notice. They were having their eyes for nothing; it always reminded you of Matt Murdock, the blind lawyer of Hell’s Kitchen who was the exact opposite.
Matt, despite not being able to use his eyes anymore, saw more than anyone. You had thought of contacting him many times, just to have some familiarity in your new world where friendship or any kind of a relationship was a luxury you couldn’t afford, but you always backed out. You were too scared of him getting in touch with the Avengers’ team. Not to mention his lawyer persona seemed busy enough even without your load of crap – you had looked him up few times, rather rarely and always within walking distance from the faculty of law of Charles University of Prague, so you wouldn’t raise suspicion about yourself. After all, a random person connected to public wi-fi taking interest in a very specific lawyer of Hell’s Kitchen could be much of a hint; if the random person was a law student though… you thought it was relatively safe.
So you only had acquaintances, people you met from time to time, but never for their friendship – they were more of business partners, really. You headed to a meeting to a café which one of ‘your’ people, Eva, frequented rather often and liked to hang out in.
You found a boot in the back. You pulled out your laptop and started it, automatically checking on your surrounding once more; it was a terrible and necessary habit of a person who was on the run. Since you were almost 15 minutes early, you decided to catch up with the world (read the Avengers) on free wi-fi.
The apartment you lived in had no internet connection and once again, you needed the anonymity; if people connecting in a café checked the news site and paid a lot of attention to news of New York City and the Avengers, no one could question it – and it wouldn’t pop out at Tony’s radar, because no one could tell the search was coming from one particular person repeatedly.  
When you opened the news site, your heart stopped. Your breath froze on your lips, your throat getting impossibly tight, your vision immediately blurring. You squinted at the screen so you could re-read the headline.  
‘Did our Captain die for nothing?’
You could feel the optical mouse crying under your palm as the frost covered it, but you couldn’t make yourself to care.
Your eyes were roaming around the article, desperately finding a prove of you being wrong.
Luckily, you were.
Seventy years ago, Steven Grant Rogers, a man we know as Captain America, laid down his life to save countless others. The serum-powered soldier’s mission was to take down HYDRA, Nazi’s science division, and all history books claim that he and his Howling Commandos achieved that. Yet, the events of past days are telling us a different story. Captain America and other S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives were fighting the very same organization everyone believed to be defeated. While in reality, HYDRA had been growing in their own rows.
The reporter went on, uncovering an enormous intel leak from S.H.I.E.L.D. following the discovery of HYDRA moles inside of the government agency, but there was no other word on Steve. You choose to believe he was alive – because they would sure as hell ‘mention’ if he wasn’t –, finally allowing yourself to breathe in.
You decided you hated reporters and their shocking headlines that were supposed to bait more readers. You almost had a fucking heart-attack.
Now, you had to believe Steve was alright. In addition, you learned he had found a new ally known as Falcon – a man with advanced technology in a form of fucking wings. Also, Natasha had been by his side.
Reading into details of the article – and multiple others – you were stressing over your parents again. Fury had told you there was no record of their current position in S.H.I.E.L.D. files, something he had taken care of when finding out there had been the leak about your identity in the first place. In theory, they should be safe – but all you had was hope.
There was a tiny voice in the back of your head, luring you back to US, back to the Avengers, back to Steve. Once again, the theory was he should be safer now – you believed now that Michaels was part of HYDRA, the organization he had been talking about to scare you off being nothing else but the group finding its origins in the thirties – yet, you were too scared to take that risk. If HYDRA had handled to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D. and figure out your identity, where was the insurance of some other terrorist group not being able to do the same? As convenient as it would be, Michaels hadn’t had to be part of HYDRA at all.
You couldn’t go back.
Not to mention you didn’t believe your family of choice would want you back and you didn’t think you could handle the rejection. Your heart ached at the image of Steve’s cold eyes, pushing you away. You dreamed of it sometimes, of you returning and him greeting you flatly, advising you to come back where you had come from; sometimes, he welcomed you with the warmest smile and ‘I missed you so much’ on his lips before letting them get familiar with yours again.
But in the cold reality, you knew your return was way too risky – for Steve and for your heart as well.
You focused on the lines in front of you, letting each of them get carved into your brain. You learned about Steve being in a hospital, fortunately with his life no longer hanging on a thread. You learned that S.H.I.E.LD. stopped existing, leaving a whole lot of uncovered secrets behind, including the last possible trace of you in Provence – you had left the area months ago after you couldn’t resist and had saved a little girl from getting hit by a car, sadly in a way that draw too many prying eyes. You had had to change the settings of your mask and run after that stunt.
That was how you had found yourself in Prague, building a completely new life once again. You were an English teacher now, a private one, individuals or little groups seeking you out for improving their conversation skills. It was ridiculous how much money people were willing to pay for it – luckily for you. It meant a very flexible schedule and not necessarily meeting the same people regularly, which was relatively safe.
“Brigit!” a voice called out and you jumped in your seat, realizing the woman was addressing you. Damn the fake names!
You looked up with a hasty smile, meeting Eva’s amused expression.
“Spaced a little, aren’t you?”
“Spaced out,” you corrected her automatically and she gave you a look that told you she was hundred percent done with you. You grinned in return. “Sorry. Just… interesting article. Let’s order some caffeine before we start?”
“Yes, please. I was working on my thesis for like… well, very long. I barely slept. I need caffeine.”
Your smile turned sympathetic. Late nights you knew too well despite never being a college student. Eva was majoring in biology on top of that, trying to improve her English so she could apply for her dream job, so you couldn’t even imagine the pain.
“You know what? I’m paying today.”
The woman honestly looked as if she wanted to kiss you on spot. Which was kinda ironic, considering how much money she paid you and how little the coffee cost in comparison, but you weren’t about to mention that.
“I’m choosing the most expensive one.”
“I’m sure you are.”
────── ·❆· ──────  
Life went on. Days seemed too long, so you had been adding new students to your flock to keep yourself busy with no time for gloomy thoughts. But the truth was, you were just terribly lonely.
You missed your parents.
You missed your team.
You missed Steve.
And as crazy as it sounded, you missed the insane world of avenging, because the people whose absence was killing you had been a part of that world. Not even starting on the rewarding feeling that would come when managing to save a life.
It was one of those days when you were drowning in loneliness when you learned about yet another adventure the team had been through – maybe it was why the news of Sokovia hit you so hard.
An artificial intelligence trying to take on the world with an army of super-bots under his command and starting with… sending a part of the country literally flying in the air. It ended with that, only thanks to the Avengers and the word was that three more enhanced individuals were seen on the scene, one of them laying down his life.
Three more enhanced. Had the world gone completely crazy? And the one who had died….
The urge to come back, maybe be forgiven, maybe even not being afraid for Steve’s life with what could be new faces on the team… it was stronger than ever. Your heart ached, the homesickness squeezing your lungs and not allowing you to breathe in properly.
You left yet another café in hurry, shooting Petr, the student you were supposed to meet, a quick apology that you were feeling very sick. You apologized for the extremely short notice. He was almost too understanding, but you were grateful that you could just curl up in a ball on your bed and cry for an hour. It cost you all of your strength not to give in to the calling of your powers and start a snowstorm. It would make you weak and you would be found. You kinda wanted to be weak and found, hopefully by your friends.
You didn’t take the risk.
The next day, you woke up with new determination to pick up as many new students as you could to wear yourself down to a bone. For the two following weeks, you were desperate to search for some new faces.
With Murphy’s luck, it seemed like too many of yours no longer needed your services and no newbies popped up. It was one of the reasons why you jumped after the opportunity; when Eva mentioned she had this Russian friend who had moved to Prague very recently and seemed so excited about the lessons Eva was still attending, you immediately said yes to a meeting set in an only three days’ notice.
You should have known better.
────── ·❆· ──────  
The woman – Inna, as you learned from Eva’s narration – came to the café with her friend; you had said it would be easier for her to be accompanied instead of Eva taking a picture of you and letting her find you on her own. The true reason behind your actions had been simple – you didn’t want anyone to have your picture, even when wearing the S.H.I.E.L.D. mask.
So Eva entered the Starbucks of your choice with a pretty blonde by her side and gave you a cheerful wave as she spotted you by the stairs; you waited for the blonde to order, while Eva disappeared again to run some errands since she was in the centre of the town.
You guided Inna to a table in a less busy corner of the otherwise crowded room upstairs and you both set your drinks down before shaking hands.
“I’m Brigit. It’s very nice to meet you!” you tried out, previously learning from Eva that Inna’s level of English was pretty good.
The woman, who had seemed rather nervous before, relaxed as she accepted your hand, her shoulders losing the tension in them.
“The pleasure is all mine. I heard a lot about you.”
You were almost taken aback by her voice, heavy with eastern accent; despite the fact you knew where she came from, you expected the accent being less thick. But maybe you were just oversensitive.
“Really? Good things I hope?”
The blonde laughed shortly, her face getting younger. It was easier to see how she and Eva could be friends now. “Oh yes, Eva wouldn’t shut up about you! Shall we start?”
“Sure,” you agreed, gesturing towards the chair. “Why don’t you tell me a little about yourself and then what would you like our sessions to look like?”
────── ·❆· ──────
Part 11
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Tags: @mermaidxatxheart​, @murdermornings​, @elisaa-shelby​ @ask-hellbent-tweek​ @cxptain​, @kallafrench​, @smilexcaptainx​ @scentedsongrebel​, @orions-nebula​
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*Very discreetly shoves Czechia into another fic and smiles innocently* I need to use my knowledge, okay? :D
Also, BBC’s Sherlock is full of amazing quotes and I feel like re-watching it when I have the time.
And I’m aware this was a bit of a filler chapter. I’m preparing the ground for the next one, which hopefully will be more eventful ;) (I wonder who that new student might be :D )
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mirror-juliet · 4 years
Text
Kagerou Dayz {Yeosang Angst}
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*Song fic* Requested by me
Warnings: Blood Violence Slight mentions of gore Angst
This is a very heavy chapter filled with blood and violence. If you are sensitive to blood and death, please skip this chapter. I don't expect too many people to read this, i am very aware that i right in a morbid way. It doesn't bother me, however i know it bothers others. I've been sent to enough councilors to know. If you are still going to read after this warning i am not responsible for anything that this chapter causes (Mainly to the blood sensitive people) Be safe and have fun reading.
August 14th, 12:30 The sun bears down on the park where (Y/n) and Yeosang sit on the swings.
"It's such a nice day, i love summertime." Yeosang states, kicking lightly on the swings, propelling himself higher
The girl sighs, looking up to the sky in an emotion that resembles anger. "I don't" she says under her breath, though Yeosang catches it. "What?" He slows down, becoming more level with her.
"I just think that the summer gets too much credit." she busies herself by watching her hands pet the black cat sound asleep on her lap. "Spring time is much better in my opinion."
The black cat wakes up and hops off her lap. (Y/n) quickly gets up to chase it, Yeosang following suit, not wanting to give up her presence.
She runs across the street, her heels making a satisfying noise on the road. "(Y/N!) STOP!" The boy shouts as (Y/N) runs through the cross walk.
She stops in her tracks, hearing something rather close to her. (Y/N) stands frozen in her tracks as she watches a delivery truck run a red light right towards her.
The truck driver on his phone, hears a scream too late as he barrels his truck into the side of the girl; shoving her onto the harsh asphalt.
Panicking, The driver speeds off, splattering blood with his wheel. The friendship bracelet she wore now lay broken in a puddle of her own blood, the same blood that covers Yeosang; the result of him standing too close.
He stands frozen still, his hand still covering his agape mouth, slowly snapping back into reality as he rushes towards her. The boy cradles (Y/n) in his arms, trying his best to wake her.
Everything begins to overwhelm him, the noise that grows too loud, the scenery that is drenched in the color red. (Y/n's) shampoo being too much to handle as it invades his sinuses. The noise around him cuts out as he cry's against her.
"She did say the heat bothered her." Yeosang looks up to see a boy identical to him, clad in black; holding the broken bracelet in his hand. He smiles wickedly.
"I though the blood would cool her down a bit. How does she feel?" Yeosang panics as he feels her body grow cold in his arms, She's dying.
"You're lying." He pulls her closer to him, almost as if his warmth would rekindle (Y/n). "This isn't real. Stop it." Yeosang cries out.
"No, what you see is exactly what you have." The boy grins wider as he snaps reality back into motion. With the passing of a stranger, he's gone; leaving Yeosang to hear nothing but crickets. Yeosang becomes top heavy as the world seems to spin into darkness.
August 14th 12:** noon
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE-
Yeosang awakes from his sleep with a start, Turning his alarm off. In the quiet, the ticking clock of his dream keeps mocking his head. He takes a moment to catch his breath, recalling the events of his dream. Then it hits him, (Y/N) was hit.
His nimble fingers quickly unlocking his phone. He hits the dial button, praying harder as each ring sounds.
"Yeosang?" He nearly cries as he hears (Y/N's) soft voice on the other line. It was just a dream after all. The dream seemed so real, he has to choke back the tears falling down his cheeks.
"(Y/N) hey, d-do you want to do something today?" The boy mentally curses himself for stuttering. "Sure. Lets meet up at the park!" She hangs up, leaving Yeosang to look out the window, hoping he would find any excuse to meet up somewhere else. However, it was a very nice day out. The sun was shining, no clouds to be found in the sky. The only bad thing about today, were the crickets who were awfully loud.
*****
As Yeosang arrives at the park, he see's (Y/N) sitting on the same exact swing she was on in his dream. The same cat on her lap. The two of them sit and talk, (y/n) seeming to be in a better humor than in his dream, more like herself. Yeosang even pets the kitty in her lap, breaking the string of dread in his head with a lingering thought
"It's weird that you wanted to come to the park today." She cocks her head to the side, making his heart leap. "Why's that?"
"In my dream i had, we sat in the same spot we're in right now." As if on cue, the cat jumps out of her arms again. (Y/n) stands up to run after him, stopped by Yeosang's grip on her arm. He blushes hard, he hadn't realized he did that and now scrambling his head for an excuse
"I think we should head back to my house. My mom is going to be making lunch soon." Yeosang says, hand still grabbing her wrist. She looks back towards the cat, almost like she's trying to side between the two. After a moment, she looks back to Yeosang; a smile played on her face. "Alright lead the way." She intertwines their fingers, making it more comfortable for both.
Yeosang lead them out of the route that they would so often take, taking them through the center of the city where it was most busy. "Don't you think it's the perfect day for ice cream?" He plays off, thinking it's a good enough excuse to venture out of their way.
"Isn't there a convenient store near your house though?" The boy stiffens at her words.
"It's different when it's from an actual parlor though." Yeosang keeps walking at a fast pace, a habit he picked up due to anxiety. The black cat from earlier causes him to trip and tumble to the ground. The cat stares at him, making everything go silent. A woman screaming is what brings him out of his trance.
People along the street and sidewalk stop to stare and point up, construction poles swing from their harness as it nearly snaps from the chain. He see's (Y/N) underneath them, he hurries up and begins to run towards her; determined to pull her away from the scene.
The poles finally snap, Yeosang picks up his pace. Why wasn't (Y/N) moving? Didn't she notice the screaming of people. His fingers graze her arm as a man takes a hold of him and begins to run much faster than he had.
"Are you mental boy?!" The man screams at him, he can't understand why though. Why didn't he grab her too, they were next to her. A strangled scream leaves Yeosang as the poles crash to the ground, the sound resonates off of the tall buildings and back to his ears.
A pole is skewered right in the middle of her chest. She looks down in shock, slowly sliding down the pole. Blood stains the poles and the pavement. Yeosang beats his way out of the man's grip, He has to get to her, she's still breathing!
"(Y/n)!" He cries as he passes a familiar figure. Someone grabs his arm and pushes him to the ground. "what you see is exactly what you're going to get. You cant save her, just look at that sadistic smile. She doesn't want your help. Don't you wish this was all a dream Yeosang?" The black coated Yeosang walks away, once again disappearing behind someone.
His vision becomes blurred as his body becomes heavier on the ground. The black coated Yeosang was right, she was smiling as blood drips from her wound into a crimson puddle on the ground.
*****
August 14th 12:30 noon
"(Y/N)!" Yeosang screams as his body violently wakes up, covered in a thin layer of sweat. He quickly gets dressed as the time reds the same as the previous days, leaving the house in a hurry.
At the park (y/n) sits in the same swing, the only difference is that she looks at Yeosang worried as he runs to her. He grabs her by her arm. "Yeo-" "I can't explain right now, we just gotta go!" Yeosang says. He leads her to the city again, this time on the other side of the street. He see's the same truck speed by, holding onto her tighter.
People scream as pipes fall once again, this time trapping the cat under them. (Y/n) tries to go over to the pile, only to be stopped by Yeosang.
"He's fine! We gotta go!" The both of them continue to run through the crowd that begins to form, shoving and pushing against them. Yeosang keeps looking back to make sure (Y/n) is still there.
Anxiety begins to kick into overdrive, they need to get out of the crowd. He see's a staircase that leads to the train and begins to speed up to it. It'll get them away from people temporarily. There is no way he intends to get on the train though.
"Yeosang stop!" They've reached the top of the stairs, now formed into a bridge that overhangs the train. (Y/n) is out of breath, her dress not made for running. "Where are we going?" She breaths erratically, trying to catch it.
Yeosang stands still, only able to stare at her. He doesn't know, he only though to get you away from the past events locations. "We're going to Yunho's." He quickly thinks, it's built like a doomsday prepping house. It'll keep you safe.
"Why are we in a rush?" she leans against the railing.
"I promise i will explain when we get there, we just need to get there quickly. Come o-" There he is again, also leaning against the railing, right next to her.
"(Y/n) get off the railing." He grabs your arm right as the railing snaps, you fall, Yeosang being dragged by her weight. The black coated Yeosang grabs him and pulls him back, making him let go
(Y/n) lets out a scream as she falls down to the oncoming train, too fast to stop. She falls with a sickening crack onto the tracks. The train tries to slow down in vain. She lets out a scream that will haunt Yeosang till the day he dies. Only the impact hadn't killed her. The train keeps running over her as she screams in agony.
Yeosang stumbles backwards and covers his ears as he cries out. "God please just let her die!" his frame rocks back and forth, trying to drown out (Y/N's) screams.
"No, you don't get to cry. You don't get to look away!" The double Yeosang grabs him by the shirt collar, pulling him to the ledge and making him look down at her mangled corpse. "This is your fault! You did this to her! You just had to get away didn't you. DIDN'T YOU!" He begins to kick Yeosang hard  on the ground, letting tears stream down his face.
"Why do you keep killing her?" Yeosang says in a small voice as he clutches his ribs on the ground. His question stops the double in his tracks.
"What did i tell you yesterday? You. cant. save. her. Do you think i try to kill her in the most gruesome way possible? No, i try to lead her to the route that will kill her the fastest so she wont suffer like she just did now!"
Yeosang sits up, blood trailing from his busted lip. "No, you don't give a damn. If you did, you would just let me save her."
A dark spark is lit in the double. "You really don't understand. I had to do this alone, for five years i tried to save her. Don't you think I've tried every damn way to stop her from dying in my arms."
Yeosang just stares in pain and confusion.
"Don't you get it. I AM YOU! JUST STOP IT! WE CAN'T SAVE HER!" The fake screams, his blood boiling.
"No." It boils higher. "I won't stop. I'll never stop trying to save her. If i have to do this for the rest of my life i will." Yeosang begins to feel the pain of his broken ribs.
"So that's how it's going to be. Fine, we'll continue this bloody cycle until we run out of clocks. And then more clocks will appear." He kicks Yeosang in the face, knocking him out
*******
Yeosang opens his eyes, this time he isn't in his room, he's in a long hallway, lined with clocks. "This is the hall of hell." The double begins to talk.
"Everyday that you don't save her, a clock is broken." He swipes a bloody hand on three of the clocks. "This is when your hell begins. At the end of this hallway is a new day. And for the record, i do hope you find a way to save her, though i'm doubtful." He vanishes, leaving Yeosang alone in the hallway.
How are there so many clocks? he thinks to himself. And how long is the hallway? He walks for what feels like forever, growing more and more tired. Eventually collapsing.
And so the cycle begins again, the same day, the same time. Every path they take to try and avoid a death, they pass every tragedy that happened the previous day. And they are met with a far worse death every time.
The black cat still kept following them, trying to lead her to a better death. And every time she was seconds away from death, the cat turned into the double.
3,650 days, 3,650 broken bloody clocks. Ten years total (y/n) kept dying in front of him, the double of Yeosang was terribly tired and mentally exhausted. How many times was he going to be forced to watch her die. How many more days until Yeosang realized how to break the cycle like the double had years ago. If only he was able to tell him, Yeosang would take over his place as the harbinger of death.
They were both in the hall of hell, eyes puffy with tears and anger. Who was doing this to them and what did they do to deserve this? "You have to do something different today. You have to change the cycle i don't care if you have to die yourself. Just break this heat haze." The double began to break down
"I wish i could tell you how to break it, I've tried. But i'm not allowed to, i am physically unable to. Whoever is doing this to us is controlling me somehow." He punches one of the few clocks they had left, walking towards the exit
"Lets just get this day over with."
The day went on just the same, only Yeosang was far too tired to hurry about his movements. Maybe the way to break the cycle was to play into the hands of the cat-double whatever he was. It would certainly be better than watching (Y/N) die slowly.
Over the ten years she had been dying, it had brought both of them to an understanding that they both cared for her. More than they did their own lives. They were never kind to each other, but after a while they stopped attacking each other.
They're trapped in cycles and the ending is never clear, a story that they are playing into. But a story is a story all the same. And today like any has an ending, so to say. Far away and out beyond that scorching summer day
Crashing in and hitting Yeosang instead of (y/n), he pushes her aside to nearly dodge a truck. The double and her stare in shock as his bracelet hits the ground and cracks. Blood dripping everywhere, (y/n) chokes on the smell of his hair. She breathes in a gulp of air and just cant take it.
(Y/n) falls down to her knees, a hand over her mouth. The double stares, unable to move. He never intended for Yeosang to kill himself. That wasn't how he was supposed to end the cycle.
Are these lies? Yeosang hasn't heard him say "What you see is exactly what you're gonna get." He smiles as he looks to his double, saying those words instead of him. Images flash through his head. making time stop it seems.
Him with a pole through his chest, (y/n) playing with the cat. Blood on a street corner as the double cries in fear. His vision comes back as he lays on the ground. This time, someone stands next to (y/n) who is on the ground, the double who is in tears. It is a girl who is identical to (Y/N), but the black dress is replaced with a white dress.
A grim look is plastered on her face as she lets her tears fall silently unlike the other two. Maybe the summer day has finally gone away, but that's all i'll say so, this is where it ends now.
****** August 14th 12:30 pm
Sitting alone, on a bed I wake up repeating just the same, tears running down my face. Muttering again, "Guess i failed again...." as I sit all alone with a white cat still cradled in my arms. "Lets get this over with." The white double says in a sing song voice, making me get up again.
Btw, this isn't the most morbid thing i've written. This is actually pretty vanilla compared to my personal works. I still thought i would put a warning up top cause i have no idea what will trigger someone and i just wanted everyone to be safe
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xiuhnny · 5 years
Text
a montage of love / mark lee
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genre: college!au, acquaintances to lovers!au, slow burn, fluff, a lot more angst than anticipated
pairing: mark lee/female reader
word count: 26.5k jesus christ
warning: alcohol and drug abuse, explicit language, suggestiveness, a bit of heart-wrenching angst
summary: High school was a time in your life you didn’t like to think about, especially when the present days were the best ones you had ever lived. But when Mark Lee shows up in the form of blast from the past, you’re left with emotions you never planned on experiencing.
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author’s note: i’ve been working on this for almost a year. amid the mess that is my life, i poured my heart and soul into this project, which is the first official piece of writing i do for the kpop community. it has taken longer than i expected, and i apologise to everyone who had been waiting for this to be published since i posted the preview quite some time ago. however, it is here! i’ll never be the person who can put out a short story because my need to go into fully specific details about every single thing is stronger than anything else. pleathe be mindful of the fact that this is fiction and i dont think any character in this work resembles their real life counterpart besides their physical appearance. also, i’m aware that i mix british terms with american ones, mind you that i’m neither so bear with me for a sec lol
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High school was a time you weren’t particularly fond of. 
It was just a clustered mess of stillness-infused events happening one after the other, never having anything really good coming out of it. It was either neutral or downright disastrous and embarrassing, so sometimes you pretended it either didn’t exist or it was a foggy, distant memory in the back of your mind. 
Everything had been just plain, normal, detached, never good enough to think of it fondly.
You supposed being the new kid was probably one of the causes that made your attempts at fitting in with the others fail miserably. The people you hung out with were the type of people you knew your friendship wouldn’t stretch further than the last day of high school: you relied on each other for convenience. That didn’t hurt you at all because it was something you did too. And it wasn’t like you were the best version of yourself back then. 
The best came when you entered college.
The college you was the person you had always dreamed to be. Liked by people who genuinely cared for you and your wellbeing, with whom you shared good and bad moments. Carefree in the sense that you were no longer afraid of sharing your opinions and being yourself yet carrying all the same struggles every other college student did. This was your peak. You were at the top of your game in every aspect possible. And even if you were still flawed, like you would always be, the life you lead was still worth it.
However, not everyone shared the same path as you. Some people just had it all since the beginning: they were consistent in the way they presented themselves to other people throughout the years, and consequently that in itself appeased the masses no matter the environment they inserted themselves into. It didn’t help at all if they were truly nice people, which was the case.
You weren’t sure why the fact that Mark Lee was as loved — if not even more — in college as he was in high school surprised you, but the truth was, it did. 
Going through a blast from the past was something you were expecting, seeing people from your old school navigating through the halls of a place you really liked became second nature. You saw Sicheng every once in a while, the Chinese guy you had to become acquainted because both of you had transferred to your high school closely after each other. You saw Dahyun who was from your Math class though you never really made an effort to be friends, neither did she. You saw a variety of faces with whom you had shared tiny speckles of basic interaction.
But Mark Lee wasn’t just any person. 
Mark Lee was the cool guy who looked like he had everything without even trying or working hard for it. He had reliable friends, good looks, good grades, recognition and respect from pretty much everyone surrounding him. You were sure there wasn’t a soul capable of hating or so much as even having hard or negative feelings towards him. And rightfully so, for while Mark looked like someone who breezed through life without a scratch, he was severely passionate and strived hard for good results on whatever he put his mind in to. To top it off, he had luck on his side.
You couldn’t hate the guy, you’d give him that. He was too much of a good person.
It was nearly the end of the first semester of your second year of college when you saw him for the first time after you had ended your senior year of high school. With Mark being younger than you by one year, you had been swept away out of that hellhole before him. But as luck would have it, you were back to sharing an education facility. Not that it bothered you that much, except you had to be shocked not only by his presence, yet also by the happenstance he was talking to one of your best friends with whom you were supposed to meet up fifteen minutes ago.
You were the one who was late, of course. So many years had gone by and you still weren’t able to be on time whatever the circumstance was. And when you tried to be responsible and leave your dorm early, the universe seemed to be against you. It remained a mystery why public transportation would fail you on only those specific times. 
At that moment, being late was the least of your worries, because there, in front of you, stood two people who represented completely different times of your life colliding with one another, while you watched in the sidelines and wondered why something like this was even happening to you.
 It truly felt weird to you seeing the out-of-reach Mark interacting with completely-approachable Jungwoo. 
Pursuing a friendship with one of the school’s most popular people did not charm you in any way back then. You thought about it sometimes, what would happen if you were to befriend Mark, or his best friends Donghyuck and Yeri, but reality brought you back before your imagination pulled you in too deeply. Besides that, you were never interested enough in that kind of people, the ones who seemed like they were known by everyone and their mothers. The difference between you and them was ghastly, bound to never work out.
“___!” A voice shook you out of your memory lane themed thoughts, your eyes blinking into focus to the image of the two boys now looking at you, one with sheer happiness to see you and the other surprised. For what reason you couldn’t decipher why. He had always been like that. Not that you had paid Mark Lee too much attention in high school. It was just inevitable once in a while to look over to where he was sitting and analyse his behaviour for a tiny bit. You had that habit.
“Hey, Zeus,” You smiled softly, “Sorry for making you wait. Traffic sucked balls.”
Jungwoo rolls his eyes, clearly sensing your politeness had a reason. You had stopped apologising for being late after the first ten times. “Don’t even bother, you talk like I’m not used to it. Oh!” He seems to remember something by the way his eyes jump a little, and then he looks to his left where Mark Lee is, for a fraction of a second before looking back at you again, “That’s right. How rude of me. Remember that guy I told you about named Lucas? The one who is Kun’s cousin?”
“Tall, loud boy?” 
“That’s the one.” He grinned, “This is his friend, Mark. We’re heading together to Lucas’s. They invited me over for a game night! How cool is that, uh?”
“Very.” You deadpanned, completely averting the fact Jungwoo was introducing Mark to you. He would have a field day if he knew you knew who Mark was. Because there was no way in hell Mark would know who you were. Moreover, you couldn’t believe he asked you to meet up just because of a measly textbook which you could have handed to him another time. You were still going to meet up with other friends, but the fact you had to take a last-minute detour when you were already late to your original plans stung just a bit. “Here’s the book, by the way.”
“Thanks, you’re a gem.” The sad thing about your best friend was that he knew you couldn’t resist how cute he acted. It worked every single time, including this one. “Why don’t you come over too? If Mark doesn’t mind, that is.”
Mark immediately becomes flustered, eyes widening as if he’d just heard wrong, but you beat him before he can even utter a word in response, which could destroy your nonchalant façade, “Thanks, but I already have plans. The girls and I are actually sleeping over at Eunwoo’s today, and we’re going to the movies in about…” You take your phone out of your pocket to check, the numbers that stared back at you zipping you back into full awareness that you should probably leave if you wanted to make it on time. “Half an hour. We’re watching Venom.” There’s a strange heaviness in your chest making it hard for you to breathe. Being the centre of Mark’s attention felt so alien to you, so unreal and wildly unimaginable. “And I’m sure Lucas and his friend wouldn’t really be comfortable with having a stranger in their home.” You laugh at the end to soften the truth behind your words. 
As fun as it is meeting new people, bringing them unannounced in the last minute was never recommended, and it could seriously deflate the comfort in those who were present. Jungwoo had good intentions, but that’s all it was.
(You’re not a stranger, Mark thinks, I’ve had a crush on you for embarrassingly too long.)
“That’s a pity, really.” Your best friend pouts adorably, and you chastise yourself inwardly before you changed your mind, “Let’s set up something as soon as possible, though. I feel like we all will get along well if we get the chance.”
His determined enthusiasm was cute, almost contagious if you willed yourself to let your guard down. You’d let him get away with it this one time.
“Of course! Just let us know when and where, and we’ll be there.”
Mark goes back to looking like he could be feeling every type of emotion possible, chewing on his lip with his eyes unreadably stoic, and the three of you part ways at the school’s garden but not without the thought of how well Mark had grown between the last time you saw him and now infiltrating and contaminating your brain. 
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Turned out Jungwoo’s ASAP was earlier than you would have ever imagined. 
Actually, if things had gone according to the way you had planned, he would forget about the whole ordeal and you would go on with your merry little way without any unfortunate recollection lurking around and probing into your life. You truly didn’t feel the need to meet many new people; everything was already perfect as it was, so why would you even ask for more?
Clearly, your best friend thought otherwise, seeing how seriously he had taken those words, and in the following week, prompted everyone to hang out at his place a Thursday night after classes ended. Much to your surprise, most of your friends seemed okay with it.
Vernon and Kino were just ecstatic over the prospect of meeting and chilling with new people since their social circle was always willing to expand no matter who tried to come in. Eunseo already spent most of her time in Jungwoo’s house to load off of his Netflix subscription and free food so having three or four more people coming over didn’t bother her at all as long as she had her spot on the couch. Yeeun and Eunwoo seized every moment Eunseo wasn’t home to suck each other’s faces off and do God knows what.
And you… Well. You wouldn’t normally mind under other circumstances, really. It wasn’t like you were actively seeking other friendships per se, but you also didn’t avoid them. So you decided that you weren’t going to scheme your way out of a meeting where half of the people there were people you cared about. Mark made you feel a tad uncomfortable because he was someone you had never thought of interacting so closely with — and by interacting you meant standing within a few metres radius while you looked at Jungwoo’s totally unnecessary yet nonetheless appreciated large 4K TV. 
What were you supposed to do? Confide in someone about it?
It felt overall illogical to tell one of your best friends about the issue, especially when you knew they would say you were blowing things out of proportion. You could already imagine Eunseo saying something along the lines of ‘High school is shitty for everyone’ and Kino agreeing with a stern look that totally said ‘Just because you had a hard time it doesn’t mean you can project those feelings onto people who don’t deserve it’ because Kino was just the kind of introspective person who would lecture you about how to detach yourself from the problematic behavioural ways you possessed. And you would do nothing but stay quiet, because the truth was, whatever words they deemed fit to tell you were going to be true. Furthermore, you knew you had no reasonable explanation as to why you clamped shut every time someone from your past popped up in your line of view. It just happened. Like the invisible string you had around you tightened every single time, and stupidly, you just let it happen. It was wearing you out little by little.
So for today, you were going to suck it up a little for everyone’s sake and relax around a person whose presence felt so foreign and unreal.
The walk to Jungwoo’s was filled with a 00’s hits playlist blasting through your earpods as a way to let yourself loose and calm down your stupid nerves, your steps matching the beat of whichever song came on shuffle. This whole situation was affecting you so absurdly that for the first time in a really long time you had left the confines of your dorm room earlier than you were used to, so you could get to your destination on time, if not before what had been scheduled. Arriving late meant everyone’s attention would be on you as you awkwardly waved to everyone, and you weren’t really in the mood to be the centre of attention to people you weren’t close to. You would fling yourself from the nearest window if you had to go through what happened when you saw Mark, having his gaze burn uncomfortable holes along every single visible surface of your body. Being fashionably late was not on your plans. Not today.
“Uh,” You should’ve guessed Jungwoo was going to be confused when he saw you standing on the other side of his front door at 19:45, your backpack slung over your shoulders and your university hoodie almost covering you entirely because of how large it was, “___… You’re early.”
You snort, “Yeah, I like to keep you guys on your feet from time to time so you never underestimate me.”
He lets you in with a scratch on the nape of his neck, and when you glance around expecting to see the entire expanse of his lengthy living room littered with known and unknown faces, you’re faced with only Eunseo sitting on the sofa with her computer perched on her crossed legs, face too close to the screen as she typed away.
“Wait,” You frown, craning your neck so his kitchen was visible to you, “Why isn’t everyone here? Am I too early?”
Eunseo suddenly chokes, looking up from the screen, “___! What are you doing here?”
“Don’t tell me you guys…” Trailing off your words, you begin glaring at your friends with a hand perched on your hip indignantly, “You guys… Wow! What time did you guys plan with the others? Let me guess—”
“Before you strangle me to death,” Jungwoo raises his hands over his shoulders in surrender, “We never thought you’d be here so early!”
“I don’t even remember the last time you were on time, ___,” Eunseo is pouting exaggeratedly, pleading her case alongside the other traitor in the room, “We just didn’t want the other dudes to have that first impression of you.”
As much as it pained you to confess, they had a point. If you were planning on actually appearing somewhat likable to these other people you didn’t know, several measures had to be taken. Even if deep down you felt stingy about it — about how your mind seemed to only focus on the fact that they probably had done something like that several times — you understood it. Time was precious, and some could even interpret your lateness as valuing your time more preciously than theirs, which wasn’t really the case because you never did it maliciously. It truly felt like it was apart of your nature, being like that.
“I thought it was one fake bitch in this house, but there’s two.” You sniffle dramatically before going into the kitchen to fetch food to eat in the meantime.
Jungwoo fist-bumped the air in victory. Something was up, he was pretty sure.
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Until now things had been going amazingly well, as always. Having Kino, Jungwoo, Vernon, and Eunseo together inside the same place was as familiar to you as the way you recognised yourself in the mirror, so the inside jokes and jabs you threw at everyone were comfortable, homely even.
You were peeking into Eunseo’s laptop with your head against her shoulder, your glasses perched on the bridge of your nose to top off your lazy outfit of the day as you proofread the essay she had been working on for the past three days when the doorbell rang and your attention diverted. 
It was incredible how you heard Loud Boy before you could even see him or whoever was accompanying him. A cacophonous, high-pitched symphony of unintelligible screams filled the whole vicinity, Jungwoo’s softer voice practically muffled underneath it all.
“Well,” Eunseo closed the lid of her laptop before putting it back inside her bag, shrugging, “I was expecting this.”
“I don’t even know why you brought it with you, this is supposed to be a chill night,” Vernon quipped from his spot on the floor, the deafening sound coming closer and closer until it was blaring ridiculously loud in your eyes, “Oh, there they are!”
You weren’t sure why you were expecting not to see Mark amongst the other two unknown faces, yet alas, there he was indeed. Looking like a Sim waiting for instructions, stoic with his bugged-out eyes absorbing his surroundings until they land on you. And then he just observes you like he’s trying to make a point you’re unaware of coming across, just until the messy reunion between the other guys dies down. An intense stare-down between the both of you that ends with you averting your gaze not even five seconds later because you’re a little bitch when it comes to eye contact. You swore you would rather gauge your eyeballs out rather than stare at someone for a really long time, and if that someone was Mark Lee, even five seconds was too long.
Lucas, the boy you had coined as Loud Boy, was just as handsome as he was extroverted. The way he carried himself and the atmosphere around him left you with a good impression of him, just like the other boy who was next to him. Minhyuk — “Call me Rocky,” he said, like the discrepancy between his real name and his nickname wasn’t that big — looked like he was a fun person to be around by the way he reacted pertinently to everything that happened. Mark, however, waved at both of you and Eunseo with what looked like a strained, forced smile, a stark contrast to the ease he seemed to exude when he did those weird handshake guys always did, despite the fact it was the first time he had interacted with either Kino or Vernon.
The way Eunseo gripped your hand tightly against hers when the boys fell into a never-ending conversation about the most recent PlayStation 4 games was a foreteller that tonight was going to drag through painfully slow, the emerging testosterone spreading through the air as the themes of their talk rarely strayed too far from gaming. Which wasn’t normally something you would find so boring if it was just your group of friends talking about it. Because Eunseo and you also played, avidly, as a matter of fact, so the fact your friends were getting lost in the hype of having new gaming buddies was reason enough to put a damper on your mood.
You had her there, though, and that was more than enough for you. These kinds of situations never failed to leave you unsure how to act, afraid of looking like an antisocial snob who looked down on others. Together, the both of you looked the way you felt, a bit ostracised and uncomfortable with the undesired and unintentional division between gender, but you accepted it begrudgingly like the other things that had happened so far.
Half an hour into their bickering and fooling around you decide to go somewhere else within the house, dragging Eunseo with you, and it’s the lack of shuffling behind him that alerts Mark of what’s going on in the back scene. It’s then that it clicks — you. You were still there, alongside your friend sitting on the sofa while the rest of them laughed and talked without even thinking about how you must have been feeling. His chest suddenly feels heavy with guilt, mind flashing back to the way the hem of your sweatshirt almost touches your knees and how much he wanted to roll your sleeves.
He’s reminded of past times, times where you were both just a little younger and surrounded by a completely different group of people, but he thinks the way he looked at you back then hadn’t changed at all in comparison to the way he looked at you now. Like he wants to get to know you so much it strangely makes his heartache from time to time. Like he can’t find a way inside your world when he had been given the chance to see you again after two years of desperately agonising over whether he should send you a friend request on Facebook or not. Yet there he was now, just a breath and a half away from speaking to you and just like the God damned fool he was, Fortnite, of all things, cockblocked him into getting distracted by a conversation which he couldn’t get back on the groove because of how truly shitty he felt. 
“Uh,” He clears his throat, “I think we forgot about…”
“Shit,” Vernon says, and Jungwoo flings his head back to the now empty space on his sofa, eyes widening to the point of almost looking like an exaggerated animation. 
Lucas is shrugging indifferently, “They probably went to drink some water or something like that,” And then he’s back to telling the rest of the story he had been telling before Mark interrupted the flow. That doesn’t deter Jungwoo, who gets up from his spot and goes through the same path you had gone a few minutes before. 
“They were sleeping,” He announces when he comes back, “Said we should catch up while we’re at it, and to wake them when we decide to be… inclusive.”
Kino hisses, his face contorting a little at the blow, “That’s something ___ would say.”
“That’s because it was her who said it,” Jungwoo snorts. Mark feels a pang in his chest at your choice of words: they were words said to cause an impact, to bring awareness, to hurt those who were inconsiderate. You didn’t like these type of things, and now he was not even in the mood to be roped back into a setting where he knew it left you uncomfortable.
“Let’s just play two or three rounds, and then let’s watch the movie,” Lucas suggests, still trying to revive the situation.
“It’s not cool to leave them out,” Mark frowns, and he means it. There were many instances in the past where he really wanted to find a way to bring you into his circle of friends, maybe befriend one of your friends just so he could have you around, but as good he was in some things, Mark was disgraceful in everything related to crushing on someone else. He knew he would make a fool of himself, akin to everything he had done ever since he saw you last week. The closest he had been to you before had been in the cafeteria line, and even then he was cockblocked; you looked at him briefly in the eyes and trapped him there, and when he was ready to smile at you, a sign of friendliness which he hoped was inviting, one of his friends calls him and that bubble involving you two was burst just as quickly as it was formed.
That had happened the last days of his junior year, your senior year. And that was the last time he physically saw you. Until last week, what he considered destiny brought you two together. Or Jungwoo brought you two together. He supposed Jungwoo would be absolutely elated if he knew the extent of his thoughts concerning his best friend.
“Yeah guys,” Mark hasn’t known Kino for that long, but he just knew the guy had a serious and righteous aura surrounding him like a superhero cape. “Let’s keep the game talk for another time. This is a movie night for a reason.”
No one seemed bothered about it, as if the original plans weren’t watching a movie, and Jungwoo once again took it upon himself to go call you and your friend, disappearing once again from their eyes, and then returning some minutes later with a very grumpy looking you with said friend rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“This better be good if you felt so compelled to wake us up,” You huff, pushing the bunched up sleeves of your hoodie over your fingers, and Jungwoo pouts from beside you before throwing his arms over your shoulders. He’s hugging you close to his body and you don’t seem uncomfortable by that: you’re neither recoiling in his arms nor freezing, you just roll your eyes at his antics and even go the extra mile to hold the hand that’s dangling pretty close to your chest. Rub your thumb against it. Lead him to somewhere on the sofa where he leans against your chest so freely it stings Mark’s heart for a moment.
He’s unsure of what to make of this. When he saw you last week, Jungwoo didn’t really make an effort to introduce you to him at all. He didn’t say you were his girlfriend, but he also didn’t say you were just his friend. He’s pretty sure the way he’s looking at you both is obvious, because Vernon nudges his shoulder to catch his attention, and whispers, “It might look weird, but they’re friends.” And just then, your other friend — Eunseo? Eunhee? — sits down and cuddles right against Jungwoo, the three of you doing this really strange yet endearing three-way spooning Mark could never think of doing. 
The mood is somehow better now, he thinks. You are all watching Coraline — your choice, because ‘it’s only fair we choose it’ — and Mark’s friends don’t seem bothered by it, neither do yours. Maybe it’s an occasional reoccurrence of yours, watching animated movies, or maybe it was just pure coincidence, but Mark is storing all of this information inside his brain greedily like a man starving for life, because it’s information concerning you, and he’ll take whatever he can get if it means it lets him get a small glimpse of who you really are. He had always doubted you were that quiet and neutral.
When the movie ends, almost everyone is sleeping. Lucas was knocked out cold against Rocky halfway through, and little by little eyes start closing and fights are lost against tiredness. The only exception to this is, of course, you. You’re still awake, looking at the TV screen with the palm of your hand propped against your cheek, squishing it so cutely Mark has a hard time concentrating on anything else. It’s stupid, he thinks, how you’re somewhat of a badass — or at least that’s the way he sees you — yet you’re still very capable of melting his heart to a dripping mess without even meaning it. It’s not like you’re doing it on purpose, to appease him or something of the sort; you’re just… Being you. Minding your business. And he likes that a lot already. He wonders how he would react if you ever directed your energy towards him to offer him a smile, or caress the back of his hand, or even hug him. He’d combust on the spot.
 But you’re not even giving him the time of your day, and for now, he’ll take that. You probably don’t know who he is, can’t remember how you two go way further back than everyone else thinks. He wonders how he can get close to you when it seems like ten million miles are separating the both of you as opposed to the fact that you’re actually sitting close to each other.
You shake him out of his reverie when you meticulously and carefully withdraw yourself from the tangly mess of limbs you had been for the past two hours. Your friends don’t wake up if anything they snuggle even more against each other like two baby otters hugging as they sleep. Mark’s heart is crawling up his throat with the desire to follow you to wherever you had gone, probably the kitchen, and for the first time ever he doesn’t let the opportunity go to waste. There’s no one to stop him from his quest, he’s a man with a mission and he will knee kick whoever tries to stop him on the throat.
As predicted, you’re in the kitchen. Your back is turned to him, the billowiness of your large sweatshirt — the colour this bright orange that immediately caught anyone’s attention — engulfing your frame, making you look so tiny and huggable it’s no wonder Mark imagines a scenario where he just approaches you and hugs you from behind, cheek poising on your shoulder before your own arms reach back and stroke his hair. It was ridiculous of him to let his mind run so wild when the reality was that you two had never spoken to each other directly. But that was about to change, even if he was on the verge of peeing his pants because of how nervous he was.
A sound startles you, seemingly someone clearing their throat from behind. Much to your dismay, it’s the person you least expected to be there.
 Mark. 
You’re stunned beyond words to see him standing with his eyes trained on you and nothing else. There was no apparent reason for any interaction between the both of you, nothing was tying you together expect the fact that you both had gone to the same high school. But you were sure he didn’t remember you. You weren’t that recognisable. Just a normal looking face amongst the crowd.
“Um,” He starts off, blinking twice as if he’s gathering his thoughts and pondering how to word them correctly, “Sorry ‘bout… What happened out there.”
Now, this was interesting. Verging on the edge of uncomfortable if you really tried to apply some logic and let your mind take over. Though the mild curiosity plaguing you felt more enticing. You really wanted to know why he was here, apologising on behalf of the others for something you had decided wasn’t that deep. Annoying, perhaps, but deep down understandable. It had already washed out.
“What do you mean?” You cross your arms against your chest and lean back with the bottom of your spine against the counter. 
“I, uh. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m sorry that we ruined your night.” He sounds strained like he’s not proud of the things he just said, but had to do it because that’s how normal conversational situations worked.
It was cute, you thought. His words. His stance. The way he was jiggling his foot up and down in what you assumed was nervousness. Him, in general. 
Mark Lee was an attractive boy, and the stiffness you felt at the absurdity of what was happening wasn’t enough to stop you from acknowledging that. He just had to be absolutely handsome, because being perfect in almost every other aspect probably was insufficient to him. No matter the circumstance, even now — looking like he would rather pop off his head like a balloon instead of standing there — he looked divine. 
If you could bet he was unaware of how heartbreakingly good-looking he was, you would. He looked like that kind of person.
“You don’t have to apologise, Mark. It’s whatever.” His name slips out of your mouth so unfamiliarly you’re taken aback. This is the first time you’re addressing him personally, hell — this is your first conversation. You almost want to discreetly pinch yourself to see if it’s true, but you don’t. Mark was apologising to you for something you no longer cared about as a way to spark a talk between you two, and if that was just a figment of your imagination then so be it.
“Really?” He’s surprised, that much you can tell by the way his irritatingly cute lips round up. “You looked pretty pissed…”
“I was,” You shrug, “It was a bit shitty of you guys, if I’m being honest, but I’m over it.” You meant those words. It wasn’t something you were saying as a means to sweeten him up. You wouldn’t do that. Not to him, not to anyone else.
“I still feel bad… But I promise we didn’t do it on purpose.”
“I know.” Words cease, because you truly don’t know what to say other than that. What were you supposed to do? Instigate something that wasn’t related to the current topic? You felt weird even contemplating it.
Seconds go by, the sounds coming from the TV in the living room muffled yet audible, and voilá, there it was.
The uncomfortable silence you knew would happen if you ever were to speak to someone like Mark. It was there, and it made you inwardly wince at how obvious it was. You were looking to everywhere but him. Feigning interest in the speckles of black in the marble countertop of Jungwoo’s home was better than looking to him. Deep down you were planning your escape route. You were ready to gulp down the rest of your glass of water and flee to the living room, maybe grab your stuff, go home to your bed where you could think about whatever you wanted without fearing someone peeking into the mess your head was. 
And then,
“I’m… I’m not sure if you remember me, but we went to the same high school.” His voice is soft, so soft but still so capable of boggling you to the point of silencing your inner thoughts. 
Mark Lee knew who you were. He knew you, and not just because you were Jungwoo’s best friend, but he knew about your existence since the time you had always dreaded. The heavy feeling in your throat resembles bile, and you try to push it down for the sake of looking presentable and okay in front of Mark, despite feeling completely the other way around. Your hands are clamming up, you can sense them and the urge to fidget with something, the urge to shrink in size to the littlest you possibly could. 
But you couldn’t just disappear out of thin air. Unfortunately. So once again, you suck it up, remember who you are and where you are, and reply with a meek, gentle, “I know.”
He laughs dryly, a hand scratching the back of his neck, “I thought you didn’t know who I was.”
You’re somewhat befuddled by his statement, “What?” A chuckle leaves your throat, and abruptly you’re no longer feeling mortified by all of this, just bewildered, curious, intrigued. He made the leap, opened a path where you both could meet in the middle, and you weren’t going to let this one go without prodding it to its bone and core. “Mark… Everyone knew you. How could I not know you?”
“Not everyone knew me,” He sounds exasperated, and you deadpan at his reply, calling him out on his bullshit. The hue of the lights in Jungwoo’s kitchen must be completely fucked up because you swear if you squint there’s some lovely baby pink dusting Mark’s cheeks. “I was just… trying not to let the conversation die. Also, you’re the only person I have recognised so far that went there. It’s nice to see someone familiar.”
You almost choke at him calling you familiar, “Your best friends go here too, though.”
“That’s different.”
You want to roll your eyes but decide against it. “How so?”
They’re…” He trails off, “My best friends. I know them. I’m with them all of the time. And you’re…”
He must have a habit of not finishing his sentences, you realise. Either that or his brain cells are trying their hardest to formulate coherent, plausible thoughts so he can say them. If that’s the case, they’re failing miserably.
“A stranger.” You quip. It’s the truth. You racked your brain for a more appropriate word, but the scan you did for approximately two-thirds of a millisecond failed you. He bites his lip and looks away like he knows you’re right but he’s afraid of confirming it. Great, you muse privately, now I’m focusing on his god damning lips. “You know something? I think I should be the one saying that.”
“Saying what?”
“I thought you didn’t know who I am,” Dropping the tone of your voice by an octave, you mimic what you think Mark’s voice sounds like. As a response, he bursts out laughing at your silly imitation, even going to the point of lowering his upper body against the island separating the both of you, and covering his mouth a few moments later because of how loud it was in comparison to your tranquil surroundings.
His laugh starts low but then ends high-pitched, and as surprising as it is, it doesn’t overwhelm you like you thought it would. It’s kind of ridiculous how something so absurdly normal is capable of making your night, but it does. Also, his face looked kind of cute when he laughed, but you weren’t dwelling too much on that.
“Sorry… That was funny as hell.” He lifts his head, scooting his body closer so he’s closer to you, so he can see you better, so he can be more attentive. There’s still that island blocking him from being too close to you, and for that you’re thankful. Having him where he was already proved to be nerve-wracking if he was mere centimetres away from you… You’d take your previously forgotten escape plan in consideration. You note that it’s the first time you can physically recognise how he’s feeling. “But to reply to what you said, I saw you around school a lot, so it’s normal for me to know who you are, I guess?”
“It’s not, Mark. Okay, let me see if I can explain it to you the best I can.” You sigh, hopping onto the counter behind you. This boy had to be oblivious of all things. “You were popular in high school. A lot of people liked you because you were cool and funny, and good-looking, and a plethora of other annoyingly good qualities.”
It’s too late before you can fully grasp what you just said. 
Because being the normal human being you were, you had just revealed to Mark you thought he was good-looking. To his face. On the first conversation you two were having.
This was one of the reasons why you had always steered away from people like him. They were dangerous, but your idiot of a brain, which was known to be very quick when thinking, was worse, and subsequently, it left you with a variety of unfiltered, unbridled voiced opinions you should keep to yourself from time to time. 
It didn’t happen this time. And if Mark is aware of it or not, you can’t really say. The weird lighting is still playing tricks on you, making his cheeks appear flushed. But you know he’s not. His expression is as confusing as it had always been.
“You have to at least know that,” You giggle nervously, “It’s okay to acknowledge it. It’s not bad to be popular.”
“So a lot of people knew who I was. What’s the big deal about it?”
“Nothing,” You shrug, “I just find it weird how someone like you recognises someone like me, that’s all.”
He furrows his brow, “I don’t follow.”
Of course not.
“I was the most ordinary person in that school. I guess I’m just surprised you know who I am from back then since we pretty much were on opposite sides.” He sends you a look, silently asking you to explain further, and with a grumble, you add, “You ran with the cool kids. I ran with… normal kids.”
He rolls his eyes and crosses his arms against his chest. You’re impressed with the range of emotions you’re pulling out of him. “We ran with different crowds. That doesn’t mean I can't know who you are. If that was the case, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Pausing for a dripping second, he eyes you intensely, the same kind of look he gave you earlier when you saw him. So he was trying to make a point come across after all. “I’m not an asshole… or a fuckboy if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“That’s exactly what a fuckboy who’s an asshole would say.” You’re obviously joking. Mark was a wonderful person, you heard it a lot through the grapevine back in high school. How much of a selfless person he was. How caring he acted towards his friends. How serious he took things. It was simply impossible to hate the guy. You tried to hate him for being so nice, back in your sophomore year when you moved, but that just said more about you than him, really. 
He’s grinning at your choice of words, so you know he took it as a joke. You’re thankful for that. You already felt stupid enough trying to clarify your point of view in this whole You-Know-Me fiasco, it felt childish now that you thought about it, but if he wasn’t able to detect your sarcasm it’d be awkward time anew. “No, but really. I’m not that kind of person, ___.”
It’s the first time you have heard him say your name, and it floors you so inexplicably you can’t help but scratch the non-existent itch you were feeling in the back of your hand. 
Mark Lee was dangerous, you already knew that. He was that person who was able to lure you in without even wanting to, to make you feel important because you were on the receiving end of his attention.
You were dipping your foot, testing the waters. Seeing if the temperature was ideal. Like you’re standing above a swimming pool, buzzing with the rush of wanting to dive in, but holding yourself back because you don’t want to suffer a shock.
Curiosity gnawed at the frays of your being. You wondered if you would back out because you’re lazy and scared if you would submerge yourself in it, little by little as not to spook. 
Above all, you wondered if you would leap intrepidly into it and let yourself drown without a care in the world.
You smile, genuinely, “I know. You’re a good person, Mark Lee.”
Jungwoo pops up in the exact moment you finish saying Mark’s name, rubbing his fists over his closed eyes as a child does. Your heart swells at the sight. “Hey guys, what’s up?”
You grin. His timing was impeccable, as always. You were thankful the conversation ended that way.
One hour later, when you’re in the comfort of your own home, huddled underneath your warm, fluffy blanket, you put on your big girl shoes and do something for once. 
You were going to add him on Facebook.
Mark had the initiative to talk to you, which you were somehow grateful for, even if you were positively puzzled by his effort. So taking a big breath to calm down the incessant knock of your heartbeat, you click on the little Add Friend button before locking your phone quickly and shoving it under your pillow.
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Turns out the prospect of never befriending Mark because you two were too different was embarrassingly ludicrous.
Your friend request on Facebook had been accepted not even five minutes after you sent it, your grubby, anxiety-ridden hands clutching your phone as soon as you heard it vibrate against your pillow. And when you woke up the next morning and checked your phone for notifications, one of them belonged to him, standing out and asking you to click on it while the others blurred in the background.
Did you get home safely? He texted, followed by a smiley emoji. In the haziness of the morning, where your senses weren’t still quite acute, your heart pounded intensely. It wasn’t like it was something out of the ordinary, but the fact it showed an inkling of worry and courtesy left your mind reeling and aware of your surroundings.
That was the beginning of a long string of texts that just never seemed to stop. From genuinely getting to know each other through questions to tagging each other on funny memes you saw on Facebook and reminded you of each other. You finally understood and were experiencing first-handed the hype about Mark Lee. And even if you didn’t hang out that much in person, the way you two had connected through messages was satisfying to you already.
Your schedules didn’t exactly match most of the times, so you could only see him in fleeting appearances when he popped up in front of your classroom, waving enthusiastically with a smile so cute it made you melt a little. Or when he went to lunch with your group of friends on Wednesdays instead of going back to his dorm room to study because he wanted to spend time with you. You supposed he was also speaking about Jungwoo, Vernon, and Kino too. He had gotten close to them as well.
On Christmas break, Mark goes back to Canada. The brief thought that floated through your mind about distance being an obstacle to your friendship is quickly washed away when he calls you through Facetime at 1:27AM, daylight clearly radiating in his surroundings while only your forehead showed on your side of the screen.
He wanted to show you the snow.
There were these instances in your conversations where your heart almost leaped out of your chest because of him. You weren’t going to make a big deal out of the first time he tagged you on Facebook until you saw the thought about you lol comment that was right after your name. 
It was annoying, the way he was making you feel.
You try to convince yourself you’re just thrilled over the prospect of being so close to him because your high school friends would be jealous of you. You tell yourself over and over it isn’t deep at all, that you have a greedy, superficial, and mean reasoning behind befriending Mark. But every time your phone dings with a notification, it feels like your heartbeat is crawling on your throat, leaving you no room to breathe at all. Like stepping on a seemingly shallow puddle yet it swallows you whole by surprise. Surprisingly enough, you don’t mind being underwater. 
Even if it means you’ll be gasping for oxygen soon.
______
It’s December 31st, and you’re sitting in the middle of Kino’s apartment deep in thought. Drunk, yet pensive nonetheless. 
If your calculations were correct, you still had two more weeks of classes left, and then the semester would be over. Normally you wouldn’t allow yourself to become so inebriated when you had finals just around the corner, but Vernon had told you Mark returned earlier than expected, subsequently confirming his attendance to the New Year’s party your friends had planned. 
Spending some days away from everyone really had put everything into perspective, and that scared you beyond words. 
The truth was, perhaps you were crushing on Mark Lee. It was insignificant, though. Everyone had a crush on him, it was as ordinary and common as liking superhero movies. As singing along to songs you like when they come on shuffle. It was as ordinary and common as breathing. So you weren’t dwelling on it too much. Except you nearly panicked at the thought of seeing him in front of you while your emotions ran high, unfiltered. It left you no choice but to chug three vodka lemonades in five minutes.
It was 11:05PM, there was a random song rumbling through the speakers you neither didn’t care about nor recognised, and you were sitting down on the floor, wondering about your academic life. Not one of your best moments, you reckoned.
But that’s how Mark finds you, anyway. 
He had shaken Lucas off of his back the moment he arrived at Kino’s, the boy clinging to him like a Koala, yelling a much-slurred m’ssed you bro against the shell of his ear, and hugged the other guys quickly. There are a lot of people he doesn’t know or run within his circle of friends. Furthermore, there seems to be a particular spot amongst the crowd that’s void of physical presence, like a black hole of sorts keeping people away from getting near. He doesn’t understand why he’s walking towards it until he gets there, sees you, siting crisscrossed and completely zoned out.
The most irrational chunk of his being wants to blast someone’s ear off for leaving you unattended and alone while you’re clearly not in a position to be so, but he’s Mark and you’re you. So he kneels beside you like he’s on autopilot mode, touches your shoulder to get your attention, and when you look up to him he just knows.
It would truly be an understatement to say he didn’t miss you.
You blink twice at him as if you’re in disbelief. He tightens his hold on you ever so slightly, just enough to make you realise he’s not a figment of your imagination. It’s obvious you’re questioning his presence. The way your eyes are glossed over so heavily plus the inconvenience of being sat on the floor rather than a normal sitting surface. They indicate your lack of sobriety. 
And when it dawns on you, amidst the fog of your thoughts, that he’s really there, you’re looping your arms around his middle, spooking him beyond words as you pull him into a hug. “Marky!” 
This is uncharted territory. Public display of affection wasn’t something you two ever did, well, except the occasional shoulder bumping or once when you grabbed onto his wrist because he was going in the wrong direction. There was no logical reason behind what you were doing, Mark was aware of that, you were drunk after all. But you have your forehead against his chest — awkwardly, if he really thought about it — and your arms are crushing his back, and yeah. In times like these, all logic flies right through the window.
“Hi.” You’re beaming and Mark feels nauseous.
“Hi, you okay?” He says in your ear, brushing away a small strand of hair. Not even the loud pounding of his heart could overtake the worry he was feeling. “Do you need anything?”
“I’m good, Marky boy! Now that you’re here, I’m even better.” 
There it was. That jolt in his chest.
It was much like a constant whenever he was with you. Whether you were with friends or not held little to no importance, it happened every time you said or did something that left his mind reeling with unrealistic possibilities. Normally, these things would be mildly dubious, like that one time where you wiped some sauce he had on his chin with your thumb — he dubbed that your motherly nature, you did similar stuff to pretty much everyone in your group. But you had hugged him, indicated his presence was a positive aspect in your life. He was about to overthink the hell out of that for the next two weeks.
“How much have you drunk?” You blink at him, pat the spot in front of you. He’s so focused on everything concerning you he doesn’t even feel the strain on his thighs from being on his knees. But he humours you anyway, sits across from you and mimics your position.
“M’drunk.” You shrug, “Not too drunk, but drunk. My feet hurt so I sat here, there’s nowhere else to sit.” 
“Kino’s room?”
“Yeah,” She snorts, throwing her head back, “That was my plan until I saw Jungwoo and Eunseo aggressively making out. I’ll pass.”
Mark’s eyes just about grow twice their size at your statement, “Jungwoo… and… Eunseo?” He pauses for some time, “Is it surprising that I’m actually not that surprised?”
“I’m not either. It’s like you’re expecting it but when it happens you’re surprised that it actually happened… It was a matter of time, I suppose.”
“I mean, she spends so much time at his place. I’m surprised, but not shocked.” He says, “It seems like everyone is getting a significant other, don’t you think?” His attempts at flirting are lame, yet he was going to try nevertheless, considering the circumstances you two were in, of course. 
“Everyone but me, m’forever alone.” You’re pouting dramatically, wringing your fingers together. He wishes he dared to say you didn’t need or were fit to be forever alone because right in front of you was someone who would die to make you his. 
But Mark was a coward. He would sooner shit his pants than say that out loud.
“Let’s cheer to that.” You take him seriously, rejoice at his suggestion, and drag him to the kitchen to get alcohol into his system. He doesn’t mind the implications of what he was about to do at all, you held his hand all the way through, only letting it go so you could grab a cup and mix a concoction you promised he wouldn’t regret drinking. And it wasn’t those palm in palm kind of hand-holding. You had your fingers laced in between his.
There’s a bitterness in the drink you hand him, yet he can still feel the sugar rush in the aftertaste. It’s something acidic, a mixture of passionfruit and lemon, and he winces at the first gulp only. It gets progressively easier when your eyes seem to make him burn a lot more than the alcohol.
One cup turns into two, two cups being enough to make him way past the tipsy stage. To make matter worse, Kino drops by the kitchen, slobbers a kiss on your cheek and offers you a blunt before skidding away. You get giddier than you already were, jumping around in your seat like a small child. It’s actually endearing.
Mark already knew Kino and some of the other guys indulged themselves with weed, and even if deep down he already knew you were one to do that too, it still shakes him a little.
It was kind of hot, the prospect of you smoking.
And he was about to witness it.
“This place is filth. Let’s go somewhere else.” You say. And by somewhere else you mean the floor. The one you two were sitting before you came here. But this time you find the rug in the living room empty and take him there, claiming you two should be comfortable.
His vision is spinning and blurry, the loud voices and music in the background muddled, and he curses himself for being such a lightweight. Mark was never much of a drinker.
You plop down on top of the fluffy red rug and he follows suit, watching you take a lighter from the back pocket of your jeans. You light the joint and take the first hit with calculated expertise only someone who did it way too frequently could pull off.
“M’conflicted.” You say after a while, blowing the smoke far from his face. Mark keeps quiet, just eyes you silently, waits for you. “I want to offer you the blunt because I don’t want to seem indelicate or selfish, but at the same time I don’t want to because I’d hate it if you felt pressured.”
There’s a twitch in his heartbeat. He hates it. “I… I have never done it before.” He gulps, pinching his hand to keep himself sane, “So I wouldn’t know how to do it.”
“I can teach you. If you want.” You quip, the joint still poised against your finger, “Only if you want, though. It’s cool if you don’t, more for me.”
It’s somewhat a dilemma to him. He wants to try it, not because you’re the person he has been crushing on for quite a while, but because he was always curious about it. Lucas was his housemate after all, and getting contact high was inevitable around him. That small buzz he felt those times was appealing to him, it made him wonder how it would be if he experienced it firsthand. He had always been curious, but never really acted upon it. Until now, with you right in front of him, offering him a chance at squashing his curiosity. 
That was his problem. You.
Mark was all for taking risks, and experiencing what life had to offer, but only if the people embarking with him were his friends. His friends friends, who knew how fucking silly and weird he was, and that definitely didn’t make his heart feel like it was about to explode inside out. 
But here you were, right in front of him, being so incredible considerate it was borderline annoying how even tipsy he could feel every nerve end. 
“Okay. Yeah, teach me.” Those are some dangerous words, he realises after he says them. His tummy feels like it’s a pot of lava, burning and waiting until it spills over.
You scoot closer to him until your knees are knocking against his, smiling brightly when he jumps a little. “It’s no big deal, really. Put the joint between your index and middle finger.” He’s frowning in concentration, and to avoid any messy situations — because of your hazy surroundings — you grab his palm to steady it and put the spliff in between his ready fingers. 
“Feels weird…” He says, and you roll your eyes playfully.
“Of course, it’s your first time holding it. It’ll become second nature to you once you do it more often.” You hum a bit, “If you keep on doing it, that is.” You hope he does. You’re nowhere near prepared to see the glorious sight of Mark smoking, and if he decides it’s just not it for him you’ll have to store that mental picture forever in the depths of your brain.
He doesn’t take his eyes away from the blunt, or if he does you miss it, so you continue instructing, “Now, you put it in between your lips, just the tip.” You’re aware of how blatantly sexually charged these instructions could sound to anyone else, and you were feeling it too. The crude images on the back of your lids were truly unnecessary when you were trying to teach the guy how to take a hit, not how to… do other things. You felt too hot in your clothes. “And you inhale. But lightly. I don’t want you to cough to death.”
Mark giggles at that, his shoulders less tense than before, “Okay,” He exhales nervously, “I’m gonna do it.”
“Lightly, Mark. Don’t forget it. After you inhale it, try to keep the smoke in for a little, and then you can push it out.” The hand he’s keeping free is wiped insistently against his jeans. Before the little rationality you have left on your brain kicks in, you put your hand on top of his and squeeze. As a way to comfort him. As a way to maybe let him magically know you had a stupid crush on him without saying it out loud. Who knows.
He inhales just like you taught him, the flame burning alive in front of you for a few seconds. The small cough he lets out is expected, and you laugh way more than you should have, considering it was his first time.
“You’re making fun of me!” He whines, the little pout adorning his lips testing your patience.
“M’sorry, Marky… It’s just cute, that’s all.” You mumble, feeling a blush take over your cheeks at your unfiltered confession. “Was it good? Did it feel nice?”
“It’s… different.” He places the joint back to his lips, takes a drag once again. His eyes widen at the intensity, and the way he exhales the smoke seems like he’s somewhat disgusted. “This shit is strong as fuck, Jesus.”
“Kino has a soft spot for me.” You shrug. 
“It seems like everyone has a soft spot for you,”
“I wouldn’t say that,” You roll your eyes at his statement, “I just feel like I have really good friends. I love them a lot. They mean so much to me I don’t think I can put it in words.”
Normally, you weren’t much of an emotionally forward person. The dullness in your life had never allowed you such novelties. 
Sometimes it truly felt like you were void of them, void of the feeling of showing someone how much you cared, outwardly. That changed when you got drunk, or high. It was as if every repressed emotion you crushed into the pit of your being just spilled out without any warning. You didn’t mind it though, neither did your friends. Jungwoo said it was a very you thing but still berated you constantly with hugs, which you didn’t mind. Eunseo always bragged about being the only person with whom you were affectionate. Kino and Vernon probably didn’t even realise it. Eunwoo and Yeeun were similar to you except when they were alone together.
“I’m glad, really. You deserve it.” He’s looking at you in a way you can’t possibly describe because he’s Mark Lee after all. And he could be looking at you in ten million different ways and you wouldn’t be able to decipher which one corresponds to how he’s really feeling. Sometimes you wished you could crack open his skull and take a peek inside his mysterious brain. 
The two of you keep chatting and passing the blunt to each other, the paper burning at the tip of your fingers as time flew by. Your eyes were droopy and your vision blurry, Mark’s body becoming one with the background. Even if you had important things to take care of, there was nowhere else you’d rather be than there with him. And so the two of you keep passing the blunt back and forth, enjoying each other’s company in silence.
Two minutes or five hours could have passed, and you wouldn’t even realise it. You’re unaware of how it happens but when you come back to your senses you have your cheek pressed against someone’s chest, their hand loosely wrapped around your back. At first, you assume it’s Jungwoo or any other of your friends. But the gentle pout of lips you see when you raise your head slightly tells you otherwise.
It was Mark.
If you were in your right state of mind, your heart would probably be catapulting out of your chest, splattering against the nearest window. Lucky for you, the weed just leaves you calm, and the slow drum of your heartbeat proves it.
There’s a sudden startling commotion in the room, voices rising in pitch as they start screaming a countdown. The countdown for New Year’s, those specific ten (and plus) seconds that held so much meaning for so many people, but to you had always been sort of a silly thing you did with your friends. When it came to the dreaded New Year’s kiss last year, Eunseo had been your partner since both of you were single and close enough to peck each other amid a drunken state.
“10! 9!”
The year was about to end and Eunseo was nowhere in sight. You figured she was finally smooching the hell out of Jungwoo, leaving you alone to kiss the back of your hand. You didn’t even have the strength in you to get up from Mark’s comfortable hold to go bother her about it.
8! 7!
Right. 
The year was about to end and you were cuddling Mark Lee in your best friend’s living room, tucked away in a corner where no one could see you both. You sit up, the arm he had around you sliding to the rug. He only opens his eyes for a second before he closes them, a smile permanently etched on his lips.
6!
These stupid traditions were not your thing. 
You were not getting swayed into kissing someone just because 2019 was six seconds away. Though it had been too long since you kissed someone. To make matters worse, you were a needy drunk.
5!
Sure, you weren’t one to fall through with silly traditions. But then again, you had a crush on Mark and he was a breath away from you, looking so peaceful it hurt you to even disrupt him. And you had liquid courage coursing through your veins.
Maybe you were going to kiss someone this year. 
To keep the tradition going.
4!
The seconds are ticking by, and there’s a foreign weight settling on top of Mark’s thighs. When he opens his eyes, he is almost sure he’s dreaming, the weed he had smoked fabricating cruel inceptions out of spite. Because the prospect of you really sitting on his lap, legs caging his, was so unrealistic he had to prop himself on his elbows, gaze wide and unblinking as if he was being deceived, scared it would vanish.
3!
You don’t have much time left. 
Processing the fact you were about to kiss Mark Lee for the sake of tradition — an excuse you would take with you to your grave, and the excuse you would give to anyone and everyone who asked you about it — was making you sober, the rush of acknowledging your decision clearing up your vision just enough so you could see how beautiful he looked.
He really was stupidly attractive. And you were going to kiss him.
“Mark,” You yell over the voices, scooting yourself closer to his waist and leaning closer to his face, “M’gonna kiss you, okay?”
2!
This was a dream, it had to be. Reality was probably playing sick tricks on his mind. Still, the weak, cowardly part of him was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
So he nodded towards you — the fabricated version of you sitting prettily on top of him.
1!
You were one second from kissing Mark Lee.
Before the last second dissipates you clasp the sides of his face gently, eyes zooming in on his lips. He swipes his tongue over them just then, and it resonates so deep within you it’s imperative to close that space distancing the both of you.
“Happy New Year!”
Calculated plans usually looked and sounded better in theory, when they were just a pencil-drawn draft with little annotations scribbled around it. The end result doesn’t always go exactly as planned. Theoretically, Mark and you were supposed to be passionately making out as others did the same around you. You had envisioned it clearly in the few seconds you had before putting your plan into action.
That’s not what happens.
You miserably miss your aim by a few centimetres and end up kissing half of his mouth instead, the force behind the puckering of your lips so strong he loses his balance, elbows giving out below him. There’s some nose bumping on his jaw, chests touching, a mess of limbs even the non-sober you feels embarrassed about. Mark knocks his head quite harshly against the rug, but his reaction ends up being a laugh. This severely high-pitched squeak like he’s truly in disbelief.
(He wasn’t dreaming, after all.)
“You okay?” He keeps on laughing loudly as you put your hand behind the nape of his neck, “Stop laughing, you idiot!”
His laugh is also stupidly contagious. As if every other quality he had wasn’t enough to make you like him. So you end up laughing with him, put your head on his chest again and listen to the sound of his heartbeat.
You’d worry about the consequences tomorrow.
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You prided yourself for never getting serious hangovers in the past — usually, alcohol ran fast in your system and by the end of each night you drank plenty of water to avoid those terrible happenstances. Being the designated drunk mom of your group didn’t come with many perks after all. But the dull throb palpitating in your temples was a telltale on its own. When you opened your eyes, it only intensified. The blinds had little sits in which the light came in, and they only seemed to worsen your state.
If a pile of shit was a state of mind, it would be exactly how you were feeling.
The kitchen is completely spotless when you enter it, the bottles and snacks that used to be littering every possible surface simply gone. It’s not much of a surprise since Kino abhors having a messy house, his reasoning being one’s personal space reflects one’s inner self. Another thing that’s not a surprise is the fact that Kino is cooking, his back to you as he concocts something you are pretty sure it won’t disappoint you. Vernon is as useless as one can be in the kitchen; if it wasn’t for Kino he would be living off of frozen meals and warm tap water.
“Good afternoon, Sleeping Beauty.” He only acknowledges your presence when you sit down in one of the kitchen chairs, resting your closed eyes against your palms due to the sunlight hurting them. You don’t even make an effort to look at him.
“Afternoon— Jesus. How much have I slept?”
“It’s almost 3PM.”
“Jesus Christ. Get me some sunglasses, will you?”
He snorts but still obeys. It takes a minute for him to come back, yet when he does he drops not only the sunglasses in front of you — which you scramble to put them on —, but an Advil alongside a water bottle as well. “Can’t believe I’m friends with a real-life vampire. Do you want to feast on me for breakfast?”
“Shut up,” You groan, pausing to unscrew the bottle and down the pill, “I’m a wreck.”
“That you are. We found you last night drooling on Mark’s chest. The boy was positively spooked for life.” You nearly give yourself whiplash with how quickly you glance up to a head-shaking Kino, yet he turns his back on you and goes back to preparing his food.
There are a lot of things you want to ask: if Mark was okay, if he had told anyone what happened, how he had left, if he really had been spooked by your whole behaviour — even the one you prayed only you and him knew about, but you compose yourself before all of those questions tumbled out of your mouth without you even wanting it.
“What did he say?” A seemingly innocent question on your behalf. You couldn’t show too much emotion.
“Not much, if I’m being honest,” He shrugs, reaching upwards to grab two bowls from the white cupboard, “Just told us to get you safe on a bed and to make sure you drank water. He was baked as hell, by the way. I didn’t peg him as a stoner.”
Your heartbeat picked up unconsciously at his display of concern, once again. “He’s not. It was his first time yesterday.”
“Look at you, you little nymph, luring the innocent boy in with your illegal ways.” He’s taunting you, you can feel it. Kino always knows more than he lets on, it’s one of his specialties besides being incredibly insightful and introspective. There’s this little smirk on the right corner of his mouth you are entirely too familiar with. He doesn’t say anything else, just puts down the bowls of rice mixed with vegetables and scrambled eggs on the table, and sits on the chair opposite of yours. 
“I know, right? I’m such a bad influence. Someone tattoo BAD FRIEND on my forehead, please.” You roll your eyes, spoon digging into the mixture, “Speaking of bad friends. Where are Jungwoo and Eunseo?”
“They—”
“I know. I saw them eating each other’s faces off last night, unfortunately.”
He shudders, “They left together. It was painstakingly obvious, but it still threw me the fuck off. If he does so much as comment about what they did, I’ll choke him to death.”
“The fucker would probably like it.” You say in between a mouthful of food.
“That’s what worries me the most.”
The conversation dies down comfortably after that, both of you indulging in your bowls of food and throwing the expected occasional jabs that came along with befriending an idiot. Your friendship and Kino’s was just like that, there was this mutual understanding that neither of you pressured the other into spilling their hidden thoughts or emotions to the other. The glint in his eyes was loud enough, it said ‘I’ll be here whenever you need me. Take your time. Don’t rush things. They need patience to grow, to gain form’. Each one of your friendships was different, distinct in their own special and important way. Kino’s held a dear place in your heart for the eminent trust rooted in its foundation. You would always find a safe haven in his presence.
“Oh, that’s right. Yesterday, Mark also told me you should check your phone after you woke up.”
“You only tell me that now? We should skip strangling Jungwoo, I think you should be the one to go first.” You push the chair back and get up, making your way to the room while your friend only laughs.
“It’s probably on the bed!” He yells.
The blinds are still closed, so you paw around the bed aimlessly until your fingers clutch the glass screen of your phone. You don’t even grab it, you just throw yourself onto the bed and frantically tap the screen twice so it comes to life.
You could swear you had never clicked on something so fast.
[03:09] mark: I know you’d probably say to text you when I got home safe so
[03:09] mark: I got home safe
[03:11] mark: Rocky was the designated driver last night lol Lucas and I were fucking out of our minds
[03:24] mark: I already told kino but make sure to drink a shit ton of water, you’re not getting a hangover on my watch
[03:25] mark: Text me when you get up so I know you’re okay
[03:36] mark: Tonight was a dream
[03:49] mark: Goodnight
[13:33] you: hiiiiiiiiiiiiii
[13:34] you: i’m glad you got home okay!!!! you know damn well i’d freak tf out if you didn’t lmk
[13:42] you: btw i’m sorry i drooled on your shirt. and got you high as a kite. amongst other things……. lmao 
[13:45] you: woke up with a bitching headache but i’ve drunk water and taken an advil so worry not kind sir
[13:53] mark: Good morningg
[13:53] mark: Have you eaten yet?
[13:53] mark: I mean good afternoon lol
[13:54] you: gmornin!! yes kino cooked for me omg:( i love him
[13:54] mark: Also don’t apologize you dummy, I really didn’t mind any of it
Grabbing the pillow from beneath you, you put it over your head to stifle the embarrassing yet necessary scream you let out. Mark hadn’t given you any sign he didn’t remember the sad excuse of a kiss you shared last night, so you would have a little bit of faith in him, pray to the Gods he dared to make the next move since you had already taken quite the leap.
The ball was in his court now.
Or you hoped so.
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For someone who had the ball in his court, Mark Lee did absolutely nothing that proved it. You were dreading for a move on the inside, every single moment you spent with him leaving you analysing in detail all his mannerisms and actions while hoping something would be a dead give away of a smidge of retaliation to your feelings. 
Nothing. Weeks went by, and nothing happened. Nothing. Nada.
The hope you once felt dissolved slowly into plain misery and heartbreak like toxic acid on untainted skin. And still, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you bend and break before him, even if you didn’t really believe he was at fault.
At the end of the day, Mark never did anything specific that could be interpreted as flirting or as a suggestion of different intentions other than a friendship. You were foolish to believe he’d look at you in any different way: you had created expectations all by yourself and now you were left to collect the shards of not only your broken heart but the hope you had built up alone as well.
He never mentioned the kiss, never even allowed himself to be presented in any other way than the way he always was, the social, happy-go-lucky boy everyone loved to be around. And you were stuck pretending you felt fine, pretending everything was okay. You should have known better than to even dream someone like him was interested in someone like you. Becoming his friend had already been a marvelous feat considering how much of a disparity existed between you two.
You delve into your studies to take your mind off of him, which works out for the best, really. Getting good grades, as a result, soothes your heart in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Before you know it, the semester ends. 
The gang meets up after the last exam at Jungwoo’s house to discuss plans for the holidays. One month was a lot of time, so some of you are expecting to visit your parents for the most part, while saving the last week for the group trip. Not any group trip, the group trip. This was going to be your second year, and you were excited to go back.
“What about you, ___?” Eunseo inquires from her spot where she has only one foot on top of Jungwoo like she was lazily claiming her property. The two had started dating on the first day of the year and since then they had been the grossest yet cutest couple to ever exist. “Jungwoo, Mark, Vernon, and I are staying for the whole month. I don’t really feel like going back to my mom’s.”
You look at Mark to find him already looking at you in the same way he always did. It used to bemuse you but now it only irritates you. He looks dead inside. Averting your sight from him with the most stoic expression you can give, you then hum, “I think I might go home. I really miss my family.”
“No,” Jungwoo moans, dragging on the vowel, “Stay with us, ___. Please.”
“And risk me into getting roped in couple activities with the lovebirds? Thanks, but I’ll pass.” You snort, and Kino joins in.
“We’re gonna miss you, though.”
“Yeah,” Mark adds, “You always make the mood better.”
Your heart still skips a beat for him, there was no denying that. Even listening to his voice was enough to make your mind reel, but now you were no longer on cloud 9. Rationality had taken control of your heart. Getting over this stupid crush was the best for everyone, especially for you.
“Sucks for you, because I can’t wait to take a break from seeing you almost every day.” You looked Mark dead in the eyes as you said it, desperate to make him understand the coldness of your speech had a reason. You were hurting on the inside, though you couldn’t let it show. Words of indifference and annoyance were your defense mechanisms, the armour you had to built to preserve and protect yourself. Before your words felt too personal and too targeted at someone in specific, you quipped, “You guys tire me.”
The laugh was collective, but Mark’s was forced. Maybe his eyes were unable to make you see his true self, but the way he squared his shoulders while he laughed couldn’t fool anyone, not even you.
It seemed like the shoe had fit. He looked uncomfortable.
Good. 
Mission accomplished.
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Seeing your mom smiling at you because she missed you was almost enough to make you sob right in front of her. 
But you don’t do that.
You only allow yourself to break down when you close the door to your childhood bedroom, the secureness it transmitted being enough to break apart the dam holding you together by the seams. It wasn’t like the tears rushing down your cheeks were there only because of how stupid you felt for liking Mark. Sure, part of it was because of that too, but you had the tendency to bottle your emotions until they couldn’t be contained anymore, so everything that had caused you pain during the past few months was being let out after suffering repression for a long time.
Spending three weeks in the company of your family proved to be a better remedy than you expected. Even the inevitable arguments and misunderstandings were welcomed, for they brought a sense of nostalgia which calmed the storm inside of you. In the times you isolated yourself in your room, it gave you a safe space to freely think about everything surrounding you, especially the Mark situation. 
He didn’t want to talk about the kiss, and that was fine. You were sure he had a reason for it, namely not wanting to go through the whole I’m sorry but I don’t see you like that scenario, which once again, was understandable. Mark didn’t owe you anything. You had set up the trap and fell for it all on your own.
You still talked to Mark throughout your time away from the group, because you’d hate yourself even more if you alienated him for something that shouldn’t intervene in your friendship. It was weird at first, the chemistry and dynamic between the both of you didn’t change whatsoever, which was good. Whenever he mentioned doing Facetime you always found an excuse to avoid seeing his face. Hearing his voice in the inevitable phone calls you did was already causing so much damage to begin with, imagine if you tended to his every wish. You would never improve. But you held on and followed through with it, as you knew you would. 
Those three weeks made you rationalise your feelings, swallow them whole and cage them in the depths of your chest. The longer you kept on daydreaming about you and Mark doing mundane couple things instead of focusing on the harsh reality that he didn’t like you back, the more it was going to hurt.
So when you got back in the city you deemed yourself normal again.
Jungwoo gave one of his infamous dramatic speeches about you never leaving his side again otherwise he would commit atrocities, while Eunseo did her best as the supporting role of a sidekick. These two were the closest to you out of everyone else, and the fact that they were dating now used to scare you in the beginning. Scared they would eventually distance themselves from the group like many couples do when they start dating. But that ended up being far from the truth since they annoyed the hell out of each other so frequently they even begged to be away from each other whenever they were with other friends.
The gang only had one week left until the second semester began, and this meant it was time for your group trip.
Besides being several things, Jungwoo was also absolutely loaded. Well, his parents were rich, which technically made him rich too, though he always preferred to say he just lived a comfortable life.
When the two of you met in your first year of college, in a class both of you were starting to abhor, you would never imagine how close you would become in the span of a few months. But little by little, your group began to form — Eunseo and Vernon came next, then Kino — and when the end of the first semester neared, he had suggested for the lot of you to head down to his vacation house, the one he went to every Summer. The prospect of going to a place like that in the middle of February was ridiculous until he said he had an indoor pool. Just like any other person who lived comfortably.
This year, though, there were going to be new additions to the trip. Including, of course, Mark and Lucas.
Everything was going to end up just fine because, at the end of the day, your friends were there. And no matter what happened, they were more than enough for you.
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The downfall of Kim Jungwoo was being too kind and considerate of others no matter what the situation was. He didn’t have it in his heart to say no to most requests, especially if those came from someone who he considered a great friend of his. He really disliked seeing other people unhappy or lonely.
One hour into the drive to your destination for the next week, shit had already hit the fan. Jungwoo breaks the news that some friends of Mark and Lucas’s friends were tagging along because they were going to be left all alone back in the city without anyone else to keep them company. Lucas supposedly mentioned quite aloofly that statement, and Jungwoo, ever the altruist saviour, couldn’t resist but to make a proposal.
Eunseo almost choked on her gum, Vernon was sleeping with his head resting against Kino’s shoulder, Kino made this awfully funny stank expression, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t really avoid the poker face after he drops that bomb on the four of you.
“Are you fucking serious? Again?” Eunseo sounds completely exasperated, rightfully so. You were thankful she was taking the lead, as his girlfriend, it was more acceptable if the nagging came from her, and not from you. Even if deep down you were itching to slap the side of his head.
“Listen,” He tries to reason, side-eyeing her to keep his focus on the road, “They were going to be all alone until the semester started! And it’s not like we can’t accommodate two more people. My house is enough for all of us.”
She scoffs, “It’s not about the size of your fucking house, Jungwoo. It’s about how you just said fuck it to a comfortable environment between people who know each other to bring two more people because you pity them!”
“I know, honey,” His voice is soft, a twinge of regret and desperation coming through, “They know Mark and Lucas, though! It will turn out okay, trust me.”
You doubted it, but you couldn’t possibly hold some judgment or impact over Jungwoo invited over to his house. It was his after all, and if he had deemed fit inviting people who weren’t apart of your group of friends, you just had to accept it. Much like when Mark, Lucas, and Rocky came over to Jungwoo’s place for movie night. They were strangers to the rest (except Mark, but well, no one knew about the circumstances of your prior acquaintanceship except the both of you), but your best friend really tried hard to make his both group of friends become one.
If these friends were like Rocky, who unfortunately had gone abroad with his parents for vacations and couldn’t be present, maybe the environment was going to be amicable, fun even. You were willing to keep an open mind, despite the primary discomfort of mingling with people you weren’t familiar with refusing to wear off.
Eunseo slapped Jungwoo’s hand when he tried to hold it across the console, and you closed your eyes, repeating everything will turn out fine in your head over and over like a mantra until it became true. 
Fake it ’til you make it.
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Someone had to be playing some kind of sick, cruel, and twisted trick on you.
Whoever was pulling the strings up there in the sky, God, that abstract deity or deities, were definitely set on making you suffer. Or perhaps someone who was into voodoo had a little stuffed doll version of you, and they found pleasure in pinpricking you whenever they were bored. That person must have been bored to death because nothing had prepared you for what you saw when you stepped out of the car.
You knew it was over as soon as your eyes landed on the two petite, dainty, and incredibly beautiful girls in front of you.
In your stupid, dumb, sad excuse of a brain, these friends Jungwoo was talking about were boys, rowdy, stupid boys, to match the rowdy, stupid energy Mark and Lucas emanated whenever they were together. It never crossed your mind, the possibility of these friends being girls, so unaware yet so powerfully able to destroy your self-confidence and childish hope that something would blossom between Mark and you. One of them, the tallest one with long wavy dark brown hair, has her arm on Mark’s shoulder as she laughs, head thrown back like he had just told the best joke of the century.
You feel sick to your stomach, there’s something akin to bile rising to your throat and you furiously try to swallow it down alongside the feelings you thought you had buried and locked safely in the confines of your chest.
“Guys!” Lucas bellows, and everyone’s attention shifts to your group, “Now the party can officially begin!”
A forced smile breaks on your lips, the kind everyone could see how fake it was. The girl’s hand slides from his shoulder as Mark shuffles forward, eyes on you, towards where you were standing next to Kino. The anxiety makes you grab his arm for safety, to keep you from acting stupid. You can tell Mark knows something is up by the way he scrunches his nose at your small, dismissive wave in his direction, but he neither says nor does anything about it. Thankfully.
The girls — the petty, hungry and jealous monster living inside of you ached to call them intruders — introduced themselves as Yoojung and Doyeon, the latter being the one who had been cosying all up on Mark. Much to your dismay, they’re both incredibly sweet and genuine people, to the point of helping the rest of you set up everything in the house so your stay is comfortable.
On the first night, Doyeon cooks everyone dinner and nothing but high praises are sung to the food she makes. Mark repeats the dish twice, compliments leaving his mouth incessantly, and the dagger piercing through your heart is dug deeper. You were painfully aware that she wasn’t to blame, but when even your friends begin asking for more of it, you were bound to feel the metaphorical blow on your stomach. The cook of the group was you. The person whose food always had everyone raving about was you. You can’t even stomach more than three bites before you say you’re not feeling too well.
 It was starting to resemble like that fateful movie night all over again, with you feeling retracted and alienated. For the remainder of the night, you claim to be extremely tired due to the traveling and withdraw yourself to the room you shared with Eunseo, — since she still wasn’t completely over the stunt he had pulled, but you just knew she was going to trade places with Kino midweek, who was rooming with Jungwoo for the time being — covering your entire body with the duvet. You can hear the cacophony of laughter coming from the living room. It rings in your ears until you fall asleep.
On day two, you wake up earlier than usual. Scoping around the enormous place, you find that no one else is awake, just you. Not even Lucas, who was curled in a ball on the U-shaped sofa, snoring. You tiptoe your way to the kitchen, set on making something guilt-free to ease the relentless growling of your stomach. After last night’s dinner, you were positively starving.
Cooking had always been something you loved to do as a hobby. As a kid, you had watched your grandmother, and your mother too, make the most delicious food with so much gusto it was inevitable for you to follow their steps and prove how cooking ran in your blood. Acknowledging how good you were at it was far from bragging: it was barely the result of kinship. So it was safe to say your ego was bruised at the lack of request from your friends to cook last night’s meal. This particular breakfast was meant to be therapeutic, to settle the sensitive nerves you had clawing inside of you.
You were finishing pouring the first spoon of pancake batter onto the oiled frying pan when the scraping of a chair against the floor sounds behind you, announcing someone else was now with you. The sudden heaviness clutching around your heart is a foresight, it’s like your body had become so in tune to his you were now able to feel his presence without any of your five senses.
“Good morning.” You don’t turn back to look at him, afraid the sight of a sleepy Mark would devastate you beyond the point of no return. 
“Morning,” He hums. You’re floored at how sultry and comforting his voice sounds. “What are you making?”
You were silly to think sharing a vicinity for a whole week with the person you were crushing on was going to be okay. The hand holding the scoop trembled pathetically against the bowl, and you hadn’t even look at him whatsoever. Every little thing concerning him was enough to make your heart grow in size and volume until it occupied the entirety of your chest.
“Nutella pancakes.”
Mark groans, the sound rumbling deep from his chest, and it’s so effective in the way it elicits a shiver down your spine, “That sounds amazing. Care to share some with this boy who feels like crap?”
That’s enough to make you face him. As expected, it shakes you to your very core. You couldn’t even muster up beautiful and coherent thoughts about how good he looked. His hair is obviously finger brushed, yet there’s a cowlick standing cutely stiff against the rest; the urge to put it down is so immense you claw your nails in the meaty part of your palm. “Did something happen?”
“I could say the same thing to you. You barely ate yesterday, and fled so quickly I didn’t even see you.”
You roll your eyes, but inside you’re scrambling to find an excuse while you go back to your main task, “It’s called being car sick, Mark. I’m not used to really long drives.”
“Sure,” His lips twist as a visual cue to show he didn’t truly believe your words. “If you must know, I feel like crap because I didn’t check up on you.” 
You hum once again, taking a dollop of Nutella and dropping it in the middle of the pancake before covering it with another scoop of batter. He continues, “I was going to, though. Then decided against it because I didn’t want to bother you.”
“Maybe you should have.” You say, using the spatula next to you to flip the pancake, “I wouldn’t have minded the company.”
“I’m sorry.” He murmurs. You don’t reply, and the pancake sizzling on the stove speaks on your behalf.
Silence wraps around you so uncomfortably your skin crawls at how awkward it feels. What were you supposed to say? ‘No, Mark, I’m the one who should be sorry for acting all stupid around you’? Or perhaps saying ‘The reason I’m acting this weird is because I have a big, fat crush on you and seeing you act all chummy with an attractive girl makes me want to bash my head against a wall’ would reflect the dangerous tides drowning you better. So you do what you always do best, and place your feelings in front of him in the form of probably the most perfect looking pancakes ever. He would never realise it, and at this point neither did you want him to. The sting of being rejected had over-imposed itself over any fake bravado you could possibly pour out. 
He digs in like he hadn’t eaten for days, the moan coming out of his moan paired with his eyes rolling back into his skull so obscene it propels you to swivel your body so you could actually make something for you to eat.
You sit across from him while you eat your breakfast, and all Mark does is stare at you in the meanwhile. It weighs burdensomely on your shoulders for the first minutes, then disappears when the familiarity settles in. After you’re done, you go back to your room with exhaustion seeping through your pores as if you hadn’t slept in years. 
He doesn’t get up after you, just stays there sitting on the chair.
On day three, you try to keep a more positive aspect about every possible outcome. Sulking around in possibly one of the best occasions had little to no sense. You mingle a lot more with everyone, including Jooyoung and Doyeon. It pained you to admit, but they were really sweet, witty girls, which made it incredibly hard for you to hate Doyeon when she was so likable and genuine.
You didn’t want to be consumed by this restricting feeling of insecurity whenever she was around, because really, she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Sure, she was extremely touchy when it came to Mark, it seemed like she had to be touching him in any way, whether it was the side of their arms touching whenever they were sitting down — because they always ended up sitting next to each other, leaving you to be sandwiched between Lucas and Kino — or her hand seeking solace in the slope of his shoulder as she laughed and leaned forward, but that could be simply coincidental. Or maybe Doyeon and you were on the same boat, sharing a crush on the most oblivious guy on Earth. Yet the difference between the both of you lied in the fact that she wasn’t afraid to act upon it unlike you. Even if you had kissed him, which was probably way more than she had ever done. 
But Mark either didn’t remember, or he was pretending not to.
By the end of the afternoon of the third day, everyone seemed to be in the mood for a dip in the indoor pool. And your nightmare began to unravel from that moment onwards.
If Doyeon already looked absolutely stunning with loose-fitting, comfortable clothes and minimal makeup, it was no wonder she was five times better with a swimsuit and barefaced. The simple pink one-piece she was wearing outshined your navy striped one by a long shot. You never really stood a chance against her to begin with, but now that everyone was as less clothed as one could be in public, you were feeling insecure beyond words.
Especially because Mark and she kept on splashing water towards one another, the underlying tones of flirting barely visible to anyone else but you. The way he ruffled up his wet hair, his lips parting whenever she spoke, the crinkling in his eyes. It all made nausea boil up in your throat, so you tried to distract yourself by playing silly games with your friends. Pretending was your strong suit.
Or you liked to believe it was.
That night Doyeon huddles in a sweatshirt that is too big to be hers with her head poised delicately on Mark’s shoulder, and whatever resolve to keep being strong you thought you had withered away, the bitter poison of definite heartbreak taking over and spreading like an incurable virus.
This was it.
You had reached your limit, there was no going back. A silent sob tears through your throat, your hand reaching to clamp over your mouth to prevent any sound from coming out. This was too much, even for you. Parading his probable relationship in front of everyone while completely forgetting to acknowledge what happened in New Year’s Eve was proving to be too cruel. Never in your life did you think Mark Lee, the person who you didn’t believe had a bad bone in his body, was capable of crushing your ribcage and whatever was inside into fine dust. 
The waters had completely pulled you under, and there was an anchor strapped to your ankle continuously dragging you down until you no longer could fight back.
You had taken for granted how sweet it was to breathe.
Eunseo is sitting on her bed, back leaning against the headboard when you storm in with your face blearing red and tearful. Her eyes catch yours and your knees buckle under the metaphorical pending weight of your heartbreak, still covering your mouth to stifle the ugly sobs reverberating against your palm. 
It was funny how amid your sinkage, the main thought going through your mind was not to alert anyone but to suffer in silence and alone. But it seemed like she wasn’t going to allow that.
You hear the clicking of your bedroom door closing followed by frantic hands grabbing your shoulders. Your best friend has shock painted all over her face, like this façade you were allowing her to witness was not one she was expecting.
“What happened?” Her voice is shaky, hands shaking your frame, “___, what the hell is going on?” There’s no strength left in you, you can’t even support your own weight, let alone verbalise the tsunami inside your chest. Eunseo lets you drop your body against her, her arms wrapping around you to cradle your head against the juncture between her neck and shoulder.
She doesn’t pry any further, and for that you are thankful. You just keep on crying quietly while her fingers run through your hair, humming a tune so soft and sweet it lulls you to sleep, the now dry tears leaving stain marks in its stead.
You wake up in the middle of the night to find yourself sharing a bed with your best friend. She is latched onto you so tightly it almost glues back the broken pieces of your heart back into place, and the protective streak it possesses brings a fresh wave of tears to your waterline, but you hold it back because you already feel too bad for ruining her — it was Jungwoo’s, actually — shirt. Sleep comes back to you once again, the headache resulting from your mental breakdown dissipating in the process. When the morning comes and both of you are awake, she lets you be the one to open up instead of being the one to poke through your sensitive state.
“I…” Red burns your cheek yet for a different reason than yesterday. You felt so disgustingly embarrassed to confess to another person about your innermost feelings, disregarding the fact this was one of the people you trusted the most. “I like someone.”
“I see,” Her reaction is neutral. She’s void of facial expression as if she’s cautious with the way she should react to your words. “You like someone. And the reason you cried yesterday was because of this person.”
You gulp, “Yeah. It was.”
“This person hurt you.” Eunseo doesn’t ask any questions. She resorts to making blanket statements to help you untangle the mess going on inside of you. As if you didn’t already love her enough.
“He did, but I don’t know if it was intentional.” You laugh low on your throat, shake your head in disbelief. “He’s so fucking oblivious about everything, I highly doubt it was.”
“What happened yesterday was prompted by something you saw, then.”
She was getting closer to unveiling the grand truth. The thrum of your heartbeat picked up as if your body was giving you a sign that even if it felt like you had drowned, it was still beating for you. You were still alive. You weren’t okay, but you hadn’t died because of it. “Yeah,” Confirming it was leeway to compressing the scope of potential people. She now knew it was someone in Jungwoo’s house.
“Okay, correct me if I’m wrong. You like someone so much it made you break down, and that said someone is currently in this house. Therefore it’s a person you and I both know quite well, except if it is either Jooyoung or Doyeon. Which I highly doubt because you haven’t known them for longer than four days, and the fact you said he.”
You scoff, flicking her on the forehead, and Eunseo tries to swat your hand away but fails. “Of course it’s not them. Who do you think I am?”
“I was just crossing people from the list,” She shrugs, “This was the easiest way. I also suppose you’re not in love with Jungwoo.”
“Eunseo! What the fuck!” You shove her now, appalled. She laughs aloud at your reaction, and it only makes you even madder. 
“Oh, bite me, will you?” She huffs before shaking her head with a grin, “It’s called process of elimination. “I have to narrow my options here. Do you want me to take a guess or do you want to tell me who the person is by yourself?”
And there it was again, the stinging of incoming tears behind your eyelids. They don’t come out, however.
You knew to cry meant you had held on for too long, but you couldn’t shake the nagging perception that it somewhat weakened you. Especially since the reason behind it was related to the mechanics of your heart. But this was Eunseo, your best friend. The person who had been there for you through thick and thin, while never belittling you for your complex way of being.
She deserved honesty. 
Even if finally admitting it to someone out loud was beyond scary.
“It’s…” You take a deep breath, “It’s Mark.”
She doesn’t show any major physical reaction to your confession, zeroes in on something behind you and keeps her gaze there for a few seconds. It’s unsettling to you, the anxiety buzzing underneath your skin as you wait for her to react.
“Oh my God,” You whine. It has been too long since she has spoken, and it was slowly getting on your nerves, “Just say something.”
She exhales loudly, her shoulders sagging, “Am I allowed to freak out?” You roll your eyes at her comment but nod nonetheless. Any reaction was better than none. “This is so exciting. I’ve been holding it in since yesterday but now I can finally lose my shit.”
“This is not exciting, Eunseo.” You frown. There wasn’t anything exciting about heartbreak. “He doesn’t like me back. These feelings I have aren’t mutual.”
“And how do you know he doesn’t like you?”
“Because yesterday he was all cuddled up next to Doyeon as if we didn’t fucking kiss on New Year’s Eve!” Thinking about it again made the anger you tried to tamper down close to surface. Mark was cruel.
“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Kissed?! I haven’t had time to process the fact that you even like someone, and you drop the K bomb on me like this? Tell me everything. From the beginning.”
And that’s what you do. You tell Eunseo about how you two go way back, way farther than everyone else thinks you go. 
You tell her about how your high school experience hadn’t been the best, and how Mark was the person you had always aspired to be back then. How popular and versatile he was. About how meeting him two years later had been extremely uncomfortable because a person like him wasn’t supposed to mingle with your people, yet there he had been, laughing at what Jungwoo was saying. About how you had reluctantly given this friendship thing a try, since her boyfriend was so keen on him and his friends, and since deep down you had always wanted to see how he was truly like. 
You tell Eunseo about how well you two match. How every conversation was never-ending, like an infinite, sturdy string that went for miles and miles and never stopped. How caring, and genuine he had always been, even in high school. You tell her about how little by little your resolve wore off, and his company began to feel both needed and appreciated. How on New Year’s Eve you get drunk together, and you teach him how to smoke. 
You tell your best friend how you both ended up cuddling on the rug of Jungwoo’s living room. And you tell her about how compelled you had felt to kiss him when the countdown began. Not because of some lame fucking tradition like you had tried to convince yourself, but because you really wanted to. You had never wanted anything in your life so badly.
Heartbreakingly, you tell her then about how the saddening part of the story unfolds. He doesn’t acknowledge your kiss, he doesn’t make a move, he doesn’t give you so much as an inch of leeway to convince yourself he could be feeling the same thing as you were.
By the time your storytelling ends, her hand is overlapping yours in what you consider empathy. She’s rubbing the back of it with her thumb, and the way she’s looking at you makes the lump in your throat almost lurch. You want to cry, to show how sad you were, though you don’t do it. Yesterday’s shenanigans had proved themselves to be enough — you were mentally tired. There was no more room or strength to do so.
“I can’t believe all of this happened underneath our noses and we never realised it…” She’s incredibly surprised, that much you can tell. Her face scrunches like she’s trying to remember something, and you just keep looking at her in amusement. “I seriously just thought the two of you were really good friends.”
“And we are.” You pause, remember how recently things hadn’t been that okay on your side. “Or were. I don’t know, honestly. I just feel like it will be really difficult for me to pretend that nothing is affecting me, because I have the urge to punch someone every time I see them together.”
“I’m not gonna lie, I noticed that they’re close but I just assumed it’s because they’re friends.”
“That’s such flawed logic.” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms against your chest. “You and Jungwoo were also close but there was nothing platonic about it.”
“That’s differen— Okay. You’re right. So what are you gonna’ do?”
“There’s really nothing I can do. I’ll have to get over him.” You shrug innocently, and Eunseo glares at you. She wants to call you unbearable, you know it. “Three more days to go, and then I can put my distance.”
You can tell she wants to lecture you, tell you to find another way other than giving up. But she doesn’t, in true Eunseo fashion. 
The rest of that day is spent holed up inside your room without contacting or interaction with anyone except Eunseo, who takes one for the team and keeps you company during the whole time. She tells you Mark asks for you when she gets back from getting snacks on the break between the second and third Harry Potter movie you were marathoning on Netflix. You shrug in response, drink big gulps of water as if it would drown your feelings to death.
Sometimes you wished that was possible.
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Day five arrives, and the prospect of things looking up is nothing but a mere pathetic theory. Quite on the contrary, it’s on day five where everything gets worse than worst. 
Throughout the day, the interactions between Mark and Doyeon are so disgusting to your whole system that you actually end up dry heaving against the toilet, retches tormenting you as you try to make sense of the situation. You had reached the lowest of lows, the rock bottom. 
But this wasn’t you. This had never been you. Not even back in high school where you longed to belong somewhere.
The migraines had been the only constant on that trip, and they kept on becoming stronger and stronger as the days went by, much like your mood. You had gotten to the point where the only people you tolerated were Eunseo and Kino, everyone else just contributed to the hammering going inside your head.
Still, you had been able to avoid Mark.
That is until the fateful day six begins, and Jungwoo corners you in the kitchen, a furious scowl etched on his face.
“Would you care to tell me what the fuck is going on with you?” His tone is accusatory, hurtful. He’s not there to be nice, that much you had already gathered.
“Is this an intervention?” You cock your eyebrow at him, leaning your lower back against the counter. He keeps staring at you, stance aggressive. 
“Let’s call it an intervention, if you want. Why the fuck have you been acting so weird lately? Why have you turned your phone off? Why are you avoiding Mark?” He’s firing question after question, not even giving you room to process them. The way he’s handling his energy is so chaotic, it makes your blood boil underneath your skin. Jungwoo had no right to be mad at you when he didn’t make any effort to consult you about your wellbeing during this whole trip, and the moment he does, his only instinct is to spit venomous words instead of choosing a more careful approach.
“And why the fuck do you care?” There’s a fire building up inside of you, the flames licking up your throat. You’re now almost chest to chest with him, your eyes wide and vicious. If it was possible, laser beams would be shooting out of them.
“Are you serious right now? You’re my best friend, of course I care about you!”
You scoff, “Took you long enough to figure out something’s not okay.”
“You’re being so unfair.”
“Am I?” You laugh darkly, eyes roaming around the room. Jungwoo hated being left in the dark. It made him feel powerless like he wasn’t doing enough for those he loved. And you were deliberately doing what you knew would hurt him. Because that was the person you had become. “Or were you simply too occupied to realise it?”
“Now you’re just pushing it, ___.” He grits out, “I don’t know what is going on, but you’re acting like an asshole. Everyone is commenting about how you’re avoiding us. Mark is like a lost puppy wandering around because it’s like he’s the plague to you.”
The thought of Mark feeling miserable because of you is just so absurd you don’t refrain from laughing out loud sarcastically. “Mark looks absolutely fine to me. Doyeon seems to be a qualified substitute.”
“Okay, I get it now. Something happened between you two.” He says, plain and simple. You feel the blistering heat on your cheeks, and words can’t even slip from your lips because he carries on, “Honestly, I’m not really interested in knowing what happened exactly. I care about the fact that you’re being an asshole to everyone else because of it. Don’t take your anger out on someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
Shame is staining your face in such an ugly red shade you can’t even muster up the courage to look him in the eye, and fight back. Mainly because there’s nothing you can really say to him. 
“I’m putting you on shopping duty today with Mark.” He pauses, reaches for the back of your hand, and runs his finger just once against it, “Running away from confrontation is literally the worst thing you could possibly do. It will never fix things.”
He’s right, of course, and it hurts you.
It hurts you, but not because of how bittersweet truth can taste. It hurts because of all people, it had to be Jungwoo. Jungwoo, whose words had always been like rivers of honey flowing through your ears, now felt like they had blasted your eardrums off, leaving nothing but blood trickling down in its wake. This was a side of him you were seeing for the first time. But then again, this was also a side of you nobody had ever seen.
The extremes to which you had taken the situation was destroying everything around you. This vacation was supposed to be filled to the brim with beautiful memories you would never forget. Instead, you were letting your childish emotions dictate your whole persona, and disregard everyone else around you as if they didn’t exist, only him. 
You had nothing left to lose.
Maybe the truth would set you free.
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For a few seconds, Mark thought he was seeing a ghost, the apparition of something supernatural right before his eyes. He was more surprised than the moment you kissed him on New Year’s Eve if that was even possible. But it wasn’t a ghost, it was you making your way to him while he waited for the person who was supposed to help him with grocery shopping. 
Now he understood why Jungwoo was acting all secretive and straight-up refusing to say who that person was.
“Are you going to stand there all day?” You sound annoyed, and he has no clue why. Actually, Mark has been in a permanent state of confusion ever since that day.
He remembers how going home after being so intimate with you felt like he had been floating in a cloud, instead of having Lucas push him by the collar and throw him on the bed. He remembers how soft and supple your lips felt, even if they had missed the initial aim because of how much of a fucking idiot he was. Everything had felt so surreal, like a dream too sweet to come true. 
But you never said anything about it or mentioned it ever again.
And Mark didn’t have the guts to invest further, because he was a scaredy-cat who felt too weak when it came to you.
“Oh. Sorry.” He makes his way to the driver’s seat, spares a quick glance in your direction only to find you staring stoically ahead. You’re wearing a navy blue cap, it sits so low on your head he can barely see your eyes, just the end of your nose and the lips he had been fantasising about for the past month.
The lips which had touched his — kind of — and since then Mark only grew defeated at the lack of response coming from you.
There was such a tense atmosphere between both of you, in comparison to how comfortable you had been around each other at the party. Everything had been going so well, Mark had never been so happy in his entire life, and in hindsight, the end of the night was just perfect. But the truth was, the kiss had been the catalyst to how distant you had become. 
No more facetime calls, no more feeling at ease whenever you both were together. And in Mark’s perspective, this trip was supposed to make the spark from the New Year’s Eve party ignite between you both again.
His expectations paled in comparison to the reality. The person he saw was avoiding him, glaring at him across the dinner table, refusing to interact with other people. Something was going on, and it was killing him not knowing why. Or worse, if he was the reason behind it all.
The eery silence ceases when you’re inside the supermarket, standing awkwardly still in front of the small magazine stall near the registers. 
“Do you have the list?” Your voice lacks any emotion, yet it still startles him. He misses talking to you freely, hearing you laugh through the speaker on his phone as he buries his face against the pillow because he’s smiling so big his cheeks hurt.
“Yeah,” He takes the folded slip of paper from his back pocket. It’s crumpled and frayed at the edges — he had been fiddling with it before he saw you. 
You clear your throat, avert your head to look at the tabloid newspapers, “We should split up, it’s quicker that way.”
“No,” He takes pride in the way his answer makes you look at him, the sternness in his voice showing. Mark wanted to be selfish for once. “I don’t want to lose you.” The pregnant pause is meant to make you think about his words, but he continues before things got too awkward, “This place is huge.”
You say nothing, but still rip the paper from his clammy hand, and storm ahead of him to find whatever was written on it.
Jungwoo’s scrawny chicken handwriting is barely legible, Mark notices once he peaks over your shoulder. You’re deliberating between two brands of rice as if it’s the hardest choice you had ever encountered in your entire life. It’s adorable, to say the least. But he doesn’t say anything, like always, because that’s what people like Mark do: they wallow in self-pity until feelings dissipate within the particles of the wind. They cower behind the false pretense of unrequited affection. They never chase their dreams to the fullest. They let them wither and fall between the cracks in the pavement.
Change scared him. Still, the thought of losing your friendship was enough to sear his heart.
So that’s why Mark was going to tread a very fine line, in hopes of at least getting back what was slipping through his fingers.
“Can we talk?”
You look over at him, a light frown adorning your face in spite of the poor attempt at hiding your face with your hat, grabbing a bottle of Coke at the same time. “We’re already talking.”
“We’re talking about groceries.”
“Are you saying groceries aren’t important enough to be considered a conversational topic?” You muse, laughing dryly right after. This indifference was starting to get on Mark’s nerves.
He strides so he’s standing right on the other side of the cart, hands holding it so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Cut the crap, ___. What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Now move.” Scoffing, you try to push the cart in your direction, but Mark tightens his hold even further so you’re unable to take it with you. “Mark. Let go. Don’t make me cause a scene right here in the middle of a fucking supermarket.”
He falters with the intensity of your voice and takes his hand off, sighing loudly, “We’re not done. I’m tired of this.”
Your head flings back violently to stare at him with the widest eyes he had ever seen. Mark finally takes note of the incredibly purple under-eye circles, the tired, dull-looking skin. The deep, heart-wrenching feeling in his gut was slowly confirming what he had been fearing: he probably was one of the reasons why you were like this, if not the only one.
“Oh, you’re tired? How sad, Mark. Maybe take your head out of your ass for once and take a hint. So many things are happening around you and you either choose to ignore it or you’re just fucking dumb enough to not realise it.”
“What do you mean?” Mark feels like he’s being stabbed all over again with every poisonous word falling from your lips. It’s not the words themselves that are hurting him, it’s the fact that he was the person who caused you to become this way and not knowing exactly what he had done.
You let out a low shriek of frustration, “Unbelievable. You wouldn’t see it even if it hit you in the head.”
“Let’s talk in the car.” He sighs. You don’t say anything back, but Mark takes the eye roll you throw in his direction as a small victory for now. The rest of the grocery shopping happens in complete silence sans the squeaky wheels of the cart and the Ed Sheeran song humming throughout the store.
Mark is dreading getting in the car with you, afraid of getting another earful of rejecting comments or worse, not being able to find out what exactly he had done for you to completely shut him out. Was it because he allowed you to kiss him while you were both not in your right state of mind? Should he had been more firm in his morals instead of giving in to what he had been wanting for the past three years?
More silence carries both of you back to Jungwoo’s house, Mark’s hand gripping the steering wheel on the way back so tightly his knuckles are ghostly white against the dark leather. The air felt stuffy, full of resentment and opportunities for new beginnings. You reckon the time to pour your heart out has come: there, inside that parked car, you were going to tell him everything without holding back. This crush had grown to lengths you had never expected, it had turned you into the shell of the girl you used to be. 
Your inferiority complex had never gone away.
“Can I ask you something?” You start off, taking the baseball cap off of your head before running a hand through your slightly greasy hair. Mark’s eyes immediately lock on yours, nods in your direction. “Did it even mean something to you? The kiss?”
“I- I thought you didn’t remember that.” He gulps, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
“You thought or you didn’t want me to remember?” You hate how feeble your voice sounds, how crystal clear the pain echoes with every word you say. “You know, Mark, it’s okay if you don’t like me back, the thing is that I can’t really go on any longer pretending everything’s okay when it’s not.”
Mark’s body coils like a springboard at your implied confession, his muscles tense, and the way he looks at you resembles a madman. You allow him some seconds to formulate some type of reply, yet all he does is open and close his mouth as if there is nothing he could say.
“Yeah, newsflash… I like you, Mark. I thought the kiss made it pretty obvious but then again we were drunk and high so I understand if you didn’t think too much of it.” There’s a lump sitting at the top of your throat and tears brimming in your lash line. The urge to cry is so strong now, you had never imagined that confessing your feelings to the person’s face would be so emotionally and mentally straining. “I guess I’m the one to blame because I expected you to make the next move, to show that this crush wasn’t one-sided but… Yeah… We all know how that one went, uh?”
“Anyway… This is why I’ve been distant.” You chuckle, wiping the stray tear that decided to go rogue against your will, “And as you can imagine, seeing the guy I like acting so close to another girl was bound to make me feel all types of sad. I don’t know if you’re dating or not and if you are I am sorry for telling you this. I guess I just needed to let this all out before I began moving on.”
He’s completely still, zoned out as if his body was there but his soul was absent. You’re unsure of what to make of this since you were expecting him to say something back. But maybe this was for the best, him not saying a word. It would spare you an even bigger heartbreak.
“I’ll ask the guys to come get the groceries.” You smile sadly before opening the door, leaving him confined in that tiny car alongside his thoughts.
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You don’t see Mark for the rest of the day, fortunately. While in the previous days you had been the one acting all weird and evasive, now Mark had taken it upon himself to fulfill that role. It gives you time to reflect upon yourself and your situation.
Dinner that night is made by you and everyone loves it. The conversation flows beautifully between everyone, even with Doyeon: you find out the two of you have a lot more in common than you imagined. Surprisingly, the heavy burden sunk in the depths of your chest is no longer there, only a dull ache which throbbed only whenever your brain conjured any thought about Mark. You’d take that as progress. Except you can’t help yourself but think about what prompted him into isolating himself. Maybe he was too embarrassed to face you now that he knew you liked him. Or maybe he didn’t have the courage to be your friend anymore. All in all, your pride was hurt. Not having your feelings reciprocated sucked.
Later on, you watch Bird Box sandwiched between your best friends, let yourself shed a few stray tears over the sentimentality of the movie. You can hear sniffles and stifled sobs coming from Doyeon and Kino while Jungwoo holds Eunseo’s hand and brings it to his lips to gently peck it from time to time. It’s enough to make you reminisce about New Year’s Eve, about how right it felt to be with Mark in that kind of intimate setting. You want to do it again and again and again until you can’t even remember how many times you have been like that until it becomes second nature to you. But that won’t happen. So you force yourself to eradicate that painful thought from your mind and train your eyes steadily on the screen until it all blurs.
People start going back to their rooms little by little, eventually. The clock is ticking near one in the morning and contrary to what you were expecting, there’s not one ounce of exhaustion in your body. You are awake, you feel awake like there’s a buzz in your bloodstream that’s preventing you from getting sleepy. It’s as if not even your own brain wants you to stop thinking.
Lucky for your brain, you can’t stop thinking. So while everyone else is sleeping soundly in their beds, the cogs in your brain twist and turn desperately trying to formulate any reasonable explanation for everything that had happened recently. And in spite of the sting caused by rejection, your heart still called to him, pathetically so, and during this whole fiasco, you were worried about his wellbeing. You were worrying if he was hungry, thirsty, tired, either if he was crying or in need of a hug. Above your state of passion for him stood a friendship you valued tremendously; you were losing both at the same time.
The blood boiling beneath your skin makes the air around you feel too stifling like you’re in the middle of a heatwave on a July afternoon instead of a February late night where the temperature doesn’t even waver beyond 20ºC. You trudge outside to where the pool is, the moon illuminating and reflecting upon the tiny ripples of water ever so gently, just enough to showcase how beautiful stillness and darkness can be. There’s this urge within you to just dive in, even if the water is not as warm as you want it to be, and you do just that, damned be everything and everyone. 
You’re swimming in Jungwoo’s summer house backyard all by yourself in your underwear and somehow, despite the trials and tribulations of your pathetic life, you wouldn’t change anything about that moment. They are the ones that make you grow as a person, that help you shape yourself into a more mature, better version.
But moments like these are also meant to be changed. Like the way the pitch-black sky is coated with hues of pink, yellow, and orange just as dawn becomes daylight. Those seemingly slow and everlasting shifts in nature you can’t help but acknowledge: they’re meant to happen.
That’s why you don’t even flinch when you hear a small splash behind you, yet that restlessness comes to life, the one where you can feel in every fibre of your being whenever he was around. But you don’t turn around, don’t act surprised. You’re ready to embrace whatever it is that is about to come your way.
“Hi.” Mark’s voice is so soft and faint you can barely hear him. If it wasn’t for the stupid fact you like him so much to the point your chest felt like it was about to split open violently in any second, things like his uneven breathing pattern would go amiss. 
You flip around, see how sunken his face looks. It breaks your heart even further than it already was to begin with. Resisting the impulse you were having of swimming across the pool so you could hold him in your warms was proving to be the most difficult thing you had ever done. 
“Hi, Mark.”
In any other occasion, seeing Mark shirtless would be more than enough to make you go through hot flashes for the following hour, especially when you were only wearing your bra and panties, yet there was absolutely nothing sexual about this moment. You were both near-naked, stripped of barriers, of façades you put on in order to protect yourselves. At that very moment, there was only vulnerability oozing from your pores and his.
This was it. The grand finale was finally about to happen.
“How are you feeling?” You start off, lowering your shoulders inside the water to keep them warm from the breeze. “You look like shit.”
That elicits a snort from Mark’s lips followed by a gleaming smile which you can see from your spot on the other end of the pool. It’s sweet and it sticks to your memory like golden honey, reminds you of how much you have missed him in general. He was your friend before he was the one who could either make you or break you, so you yearn for his friendship way more than any other thing in the world. No one could understand you with the same intricacy and intimacy as Mark did; you would rather not be able to feel the suppleness of his lips than to lose him altogether, lose the gift of his friendship.
“Honestly?” He asks, mimicking your position and lowering his shoulders as well, “I don’t think there’s any way I can convey how I feel right now without it sounding like complete nonsense.”
This statement intrigues you. It sparks something deep within that you know it shouldn’t, but falling in love with someone brings out the person’s most vulnerable state to the forefront. A person in love will go back on their word if that means one step closer to the heart they want. “Try me,” You shrug, “I’m all ears.”
“I don’t even know where to begin.”
“If this is all because of what I told you… because I like you, then I’m sorry.” You cast your eyes downwards and flick mindlessly the water around you. “I know that it’s a lot to take in and maybe it was selfish of me to let it all build up and then lay it all on you like that.”
“No,” He interjects quickly, treading the pool waters in slow but steady strides until he’s more than an arm’s reach from you. “I was surprised, yes, and it was overwhelming because that was the last thing I was expecting you to say.”
You laugh, “You were malfunctioning back there. I get it though.”
“You don’t,” He deadpans, voice solemn, “You don’t understand at all… What it’s like waiting for years to hear something and then your brain completely shuts down when it does finally happen.”
Your heartbeat is thrumming so loud you can feel it reverberating all over your body, it courses through you like a rush of blood, intensely so, that you refrain from pinching yourself. The nuances in his speech are making you feel like you’re dreaming the sweetest dream and if it was indeed a figment of your imagination, you didn’t want to wake up any time soon.
“I’ve had a thing for you since high school, ___.” He confesses, angling his body to the side as if ashamed or embarrassed or afraid. Deep down you want to laugh because there’s no reason for him to feel like that at all. You’re desperately in love with him in every intricate and complex way possible in the world. Like a galaxy and constellations, and the moons, the planets, and the stars within orbiting in sync yet light-years away from each other.
But the heavy rise and fall of your chest and the tears welling up in your eyes tell a different story.
Mark liked you back.
He continues, “And I know you used to think I was too popular to even become your friend, but that sure as hell didn’t stop me from liking you. Hell, it made me like you even more… I knew it back then and I know it now too… I really, really like you. A lot. Like, you make my heart do these funky, weird flips every time we hang out.”
You’re crying by the end of his little confession, sniffling quietly so he doesn’t notice, yet when he finally dares to lift his eyes towards yours, he sees you wiping the back of your palm against your cheek. As if it was an instinct, he crosses the space left dividing the both of you, pausing right before his hand could touch you. Like you were a dainty marble statue that could break even with the tiniest of touches.
“Shit, I’m sorry— Don’t cry, please.”
“No,” You protest, “I’m crying because I’m happy. I’m crying because I never imagined this moment would actually happen. It’s just surreal.”
His hand stutters when it finally grazes your skin, yet his thumb still spans the surface of your cheek ever so gently, ever so softly. You refuse to believe it isn’t real, these last interactions you two were sharing were so dream-like your own hand reaches up to press against his, to feel the texture of his skin, your eyes closing in the process because of how full your heart was feeling.
Mark liked you. The person you liked, liked you back. You had been torturing yourself for the past week with thoughts of not being reciprocated to the point that you felt the very core of your being dim. And it had been all for nothing because he had a thing for you way before you even considered him a friend. 
Miscommunication was such a fickle thing. This whole situation could have been avoided if the two of you had been more open about your feelings instead of repressing them in fear of the reaction of the other.
“Mark,” You say, his hand still cradling your face, “Can we hug? Is that okay?”
Mark is unable to properly reply with words to your question, only a smile breaking through his lips at the pure disbelief of how happy such words could make him feel. He doesn’t need to say anything at all, he reckons, as he lowers your hand, and his too, before snaking his arms around yours, tumbling you softly into his chest in the process.
There’s a newfound comfort in the way your face is squished against his shoulder, like every single worry that had been weighing him down had completely vanished the moment you stepped into his arms. The pounding of his heart is no longer rooted in venom, it has tiny flowers blooming along each branch and stem, a small, lovely glimpse into paradise on earth. 
A wave of nostalgia hits Mark in the gut and he can’t help but to think about New Year’s Eve, think about how similar this moment feels to the one almost two months ago yet the contrast is so very stark. Back then you were both tiptoeing around your emotions, scared of taking a leap and finding out that there’s nothing but concrete down there. Now you’re worn down, you and him, by the cluster of emotions and the lack of experience on how to handle them. Yet you’re together in whatever this is, may that be navigating through the corridors of young love or finding out what’s on the other side of the door doesn’t quite correspond to what you’ve been idealising. 
“I’m sorry,” You’ve been in an embrace for probably more than ten minutes and Mark’s voice breaks a little, right hand spanning the middle of your back, “For not being so forward… I’m not very good at this— I’ve never been. I tried, back in high school, you know? I tried but it always felt like the universe was against me. Every time I mustered the courage to do something, another person cockblocked the shit out of me.”
You bring your head back to look him in the eyes, “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not very good at this either. I had this crazy way of thinking that you were like… unreachable to someone like me. So I never expected us to become friends, let along like you or have you like me back.”
“Please,” He scoffs playfully, tightening his arms around you, “I liked you first.”
You roll your eyes, stepping out of his embrace and flicking some water in his direction, “Anyways… I’m also sorry. For being too pushy and demanding too much from you. And for ruining this whole trip for everyone.”
“I wouldn’t say you ruined the trip, just… confused the shit out of everyone, maybe?” He tries to reason, voice a little doubtful. You’re aware of how your little jealous stints made the mood a little sour for everyone, and you feel remorseful for letting such negativity consume you. Love really made you do the unthinkable.
“Jealousy is a bitch, I’ll say that.”
“Jealousy? Were you jealous?” Mark asks, curiosity splattered on his face, “Jealous of wha— Oh. No way…”
Mark has a stupid little grin on his face like he already has you all figured out, and you stubbornly, yet playfully, turn your back to him as you begin to tread back to the other end of the pool to try and get him to follow you. Maybe hug you from behind. Kiss your neck or whatever. You’d leave that for him to decide.
A giggle leaves your mouth as you hear the water swishing from behind you. You keep going until you reach the border and when you twist your body to rest your back against it, Mark is hot on your tail, immediately caging you in between his arms.
“Jealous, uh?” He’s coming across as cocky, and given the circumstances you were now, it was far from making you annoyed or turned off.
“Yeah,” You breathe out, focusing on the droplets of water gliding from his neck to his collarbones. This game was getting dangerous. “What about it?”
“What were you jealous of?” He begins, taking another step towards you until you were chest to chest. “Or let me rephrase that. Who were you jealous of?”
You’re beginning to like seeing this new side of Mark. The Mark who unveiled what he was thinking and feeling free instead of masking it behind a façade of confusion. It was making you unravel a lot more from within yourself as well, the way you were reacting to his advances and stance just proved even further the extent of your emotional and romantic involvement. 
“You were all cosy with Doyeon during the whole trip. It was so annoying.”
“Okay, first of all, Doyeon and I grew up together.”
“That’s even worse,” You roll your eyes and Mark is feeling so inexplicably elated over seeing you express something as ordinary as jealousy that he decides to be ballsy and grab you by the waist. He ought to compensate you somehow. 
The blush dusting your cheeks makes it worth it.
“I only like one person, and that’s you,” He rasps, heart skipping a beat when you put your hands on his shoulders, feel the sturdiness of his muscles.
“I know now,” You say, caressing the nape of his neck as you look up to him, a fond smile on your lips. Mark feels so overwhelmed with the urge to kiss you. Kissing you had always plagued him, but now when it was just a breath’s away he felt dizzy with the anticipation of it really happening.
“Can I—”
You don’t even give him the chance to finish his prompt, for you take the initiative and kiss him yourself, too thirsty for something you were sure you were never going to get tired of.
Mark’s lips are exactly what you had always dreamed about being, yet more at the same time. They’re soft and supple and timid, and you don’t really mind taking the lead, spanning your hand across his jaw and tilting it to the side so you can deepen the kiss. You’ve been waiting for the opportunity of properly kissing him since what feels like forever, it shows in how you press yourself against him desperately, turn him around so he’s the one being pinned against the wall.
That seems to shake him out of his shy reverie: he poises his hand against your throat to keep you in place as the rush finally kicks in and he begins to take over, tearing a gasp from you at the sudden change in dynamics. He hums low in his throat then, using it as an opportunity to add his tongue to the mix, bravado fuelled by the desperate nature of the moment.
When the heat of finally being able to kiss each other dies down, the kisses become slow and languid, the touches delicate and sweet rather than frantic and wild, until you both stop completely to catch your breath. 
“Shit,” Mark is heaving as he starts laughing crazily, “If this is a dream I’m going to be so fucking pissed.”
You begin to pepper pecks all over his face to prove a point, “This isn’t a dream, Mark Lee. We like each other.”
“And had one hell of a kiss in the middle of the night at a pool. This is going to be a cool story to tell. After I tell the New Year’s Eve one.”
“First off, this was our first kiss.” You retort, grabbing his cheeks in between your fingers to shut him up when he starts protesting, “That will not account as a first kiss, it was a sad, sad attempt at demonstrating how much I liked you.”
“I can’t believe it didn’t dawn on me back then that you liked me back.” Mark snorts in disbelief, “What can be more clear than a kiss? Jesus Christ.”
“I was honestly disappointed but not surprised, coming from you. Such a dense, dumb ass person.”
“Take it back!” He starts tickling you in retaliation, the giggles coming out of your mouth so loudly you were sure you were going to wake someone up. But that didn’t matter at the moment, the unavoidable sweetness of the occasion is all you could think about.
You and Mark eventually get out of the pool when you notice your fingers get pruney, which in hindsight should have happened way before it did. He goes inside to fetch two towels while you sit on the little deck with your legs crossed, looking at the sky before you and wondering how a little over an hour ago you were looking at the same exact spot plagued with the opposite mindset of the one you had now.
He drapes the fluffy towel over your shoulders and sits right to your left, knees knocking against yours as he gets comfortable. His hair is sticking up in every possible direction and when he turns his head to look at you you notice how dull his skin looks and the tired under-eye circles, an exact match to yours. If this was another time before now, you would feel the itch to smoothen your thumb against them yet refrain yourself from doing so, but this isn’t the then, it’s the now and you no longer feel anxious about acting upon your desires. So you do as you wish and when Mark grabs your wrist to kiss it absentmindedly, you feel like nothing in the world could ever bring you down from the state of mind you were going through.
You and Mark stay together outside just until your underwear stops sticking obscenely to your body, not even saying anything to each other. The comfort in being around someone in complete silence, namely the person you love, warms you to your very core like there’s a fire gradually burning in the pit of your stomach, not strong enough to hurt you but not soft enough to go unnoticed.
“Mark?” You say when Mark slides the patio door open to go inside. He turns back to look at you with that facial expression you had grown to love instead of hate, the one where it truly looked like he was unreadable. 
“Lord knows if I wait for you to do this I’ll be fifty before it happens.” You laugh dryly, gaining momentum and courage, “Do you— Will you be my boyfriend?” 
His eyes widen in response and he stays frozen in place, much like what happened in the car. This was not happening again, not on your watch. “Are you having another mental breakdown? What I meant was— Do you… Do you like me enough to maybe like, want to date me?”
The cogs in Mark’s brain kick back to life the moment your voice becomes small as if you’re beginning to feel uneasy and uncertain about the situation. He really needs to work on how he reacts to positive events.
“Shit, yeah— I, yeah. I do.” He says hurriedly, fumbling for the right words, “Let’s do this thing. Let’s date.”
You duck your head to hide your smile inside the towel, but Mark notices it either way. It makes him all fuzzy inside, cotton-candy hearted. 
“Okay,” You tiptoe quietly until you’re right in front of him, reach for the back of his neck so you can press a quick peck right on the lips. “Goodnight.”
Mark blushing at you kissing him is a wonderful sight you want to see repeatedly. 
Contrary to what you think, you don’t dream about anything at all. It’s like you’re now catching up to all of the sleep that you had lost in the past, blacking out the second your head hits the pillow.
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You were now going back to reality, back to civilisation. Back to having a routine and a schedule and abiding by it. For the first time in a long time, you were actually looking forward to it. 
Since Mark was on your side.
Literally and figuratively. 
To the others, the fact that Mark and you are sitting next to each other in Jungwoo’s car on the way back home was just pure coincidence, but Jungwoo knows what’s up. In fact, he didn’t even need to do much digging. He was such a light sleeper he had woken up in the middle of the night due to some strange sounds coming from his backyard. At first, he was afraid someone had broken in, even going the extra mile to grab the baseball bat from the kitchen.
But when he peeked through the glass door leading to the outside, what he saw left him in a state of disarray for only a few seconds before it settled in and he saw you smiling, giggling, and Mark beaming at you. Deep down he always knew something was bound to happen between you two, and he didn’t know the extent of your circumstances, but he was glad whatever happened before now was a done deal. 
You deserved to be happy.
“No funny business back in there, ___.” Jungwoo says loudly, bumping his arm against Eunseo’s.
“What?!” You gasp, quietly sneaking away the hand you had inside of Mark’s hoodie pocket, “What are you even talking about…”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll talk later, missy.” He replies, amusement in his tone, “You better not complain ever again about Eunie and I being all up in each other’s business. I’ll revoke your best friend privileges right away. And you,” He glares at Mark, “No breaking my best friend’s heart unless you want to end up like a headless chicken.”
“I…” Mark gulps, his trademark bug eyes widened to the max, “Yes, sir.”
Everyone except Mark (and Vernon, who had fallen asleep the second his head hit the window) start laughing at his response and a few moments later he ends up joining in. He looks at you then, holds his hand in front of you expectingly, and when you interlock your fingers right in the middle of his, he ends up putting both your hands inside the hoodie pocket once again, a big, goofy smile plastered on his face as he drops his head against your shoulder, shuts his eyes close, and snuggles closer.
You peck his temple affectionally, because well, you loved him. A lot. You weren’t afraid of acknowledging it any longer, even if you hadn’t told Mark how deep your feelings ran for him, even if there was a possibility he took a little longer to come to that conclusion as well. You just really, really loved him and everything that entailed being in love with him. Your mind goes back to that time where you tried so desperately to root obstacles between the both of you, for you belittled yourself so much and put him in such a high pedestal, avoiding constantly the slightest chance of interacting with him. Mark wasn’t stuck up or anything of the sort, he had never been that kind of person. It wasn’t his fault your high school experience hadn’t been like his. It wasn’t his fault that he had what he had. And maybe it wasn’t your fault either, but you shouldn’t have assumed he’d be iffy about getting to know you. About becoming your friend. Because those were your insecurities coming afloat and projecting onto Mark what you wanted him to be, so it would be easier for you to detach yourself from him, to not sympathise or like him.
Well, you had failed miserably at that. Gladly so.
You could only be a dumb ass for so long.
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“You’re late.” 
“The bus—”
Mark sighs, “The bus arrived earlier than you expected. I know.” 
“Yeah,” You beam at him, kissing him softly. “Hi.”
“Hi, baby.” He tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, “Let’s go, the guys are waiting for us.”
You grab his hand as both of you start walking from the bus stop to Jungwoo’s apartment. “We’re still leaving after the movie ends, right?”
“Yes, don’t worry.” He bumps his shoulder lightly into yours teasingly, “You’ve been so frisky lately, Jesus Christ. Can’t wait until you have me all to yourself, uh?”
“Mark!” You gasp, stopping in your tracks to hit him in the chest. He giggles at your feeble attempt at hurting him, “Okay, let’s not go to my house later, then.”
“Noooooo,” He whines, enveloping you in his arms and tightening them so you can’t leave, “I was only joking. You know I, uh… I like it when we’re alone.”
“You seem to like it too much if I remember correctly.”
Three months had flown by in the blink of an eye, so quickly you didn’t even realise it until Mark texted you one day with a screenshot of Lovedays, an app that showed how many days you had been dating with your significant other, and the number 100 was staring right back at you. A lot had happened in the span of that time since it was the first relationship for the both of you a lot of trial and error had taken place during the first weeks. That pent up flame you felt had been completely let out that time at the pool, which was followed up by a bit (read: a lot) of the awkwardness of navigating through intimacy and sentimentality for the first time.
Especially when Mark’s so clumsy and his brain runs one hundred miles an hour. But you had gotten used to it. Just like he had gotten used to your incessant rants about what you’re learning in your most interesting class, even if they leave him confused 99% of the times. Mark said you confused him in general.
You called it compromising.
“Shh…” He puts his hand across your mouth, “You’re being too loud.”
You strike back by putting your tongue out and licking his palm and he yelps in surprise, pulling it back, “Oh, now you don’t want to talk about it.”
He goes back to holding your hand“, You know I’m not very vocal about… that stuff.”
“Oh, you’re vocal alright, Mark Lee.”
“La, la, la!” He screams childishly, and you roll your eyes playfully at his antics, “I can’t hear you!”
When you arrive at Jungwoo’s, only Eunseo is there, as per usual. While getting a boyfriend had changed some of the dynamics in your life, some things would never change, like your friends scheming into making you arrive on time. Or three-way hugging Jungwoo and Eunseo in a way Mark never understood how it was done, yet respected. 
Or how college was proving itself to be the best timeframe of your life. 
Sure, things weren’t perfect, though we can’t expect them to be something that isn’t by all means achievable. You still had a long way to go, growing up and maturing was a never-ending process and every day that went by you learned something new either about the world or yourself.
Yet the very imperfectness of it all was what made it all worth it. In spite of every trial and tribulation that life had thrown or was going to throw at you, you’d face it with vigour and strength.
Because you were happy. 
83 notes · View notes
mamajohnny · 5 years
Note
#14 & #16 (au) and #9 (sentence) for enemy! hyunjin and bad boyfriend! jisung (skz)
14au: “enemies to lovers a
16au: “using you”
9sentence: “This is what you wanted right/isn’t it?”
———
You said bad boyfriend!Jisung so I’m assuming that he’s a bad boyfriend towards you..until enemy!Hyunjin comes along to change your life
This is what I listened to while writing this: Playlist here
WARNINGS: cursing, mentions of smoking, underaged drinking, mean boyfriend Jisung
in no shape or form do I ever think Jisung would be a bad boyfriend. this isn’t proofread either
————
Had he always been this mean? Had he always ignored you like that? You couldn’t even remember the last time he held you close and kissed your lips. Where was the Jisung you fell in love? He was replaced by this hurtful man laying beside you. Besides, when did Jisung start smoking again? You thought he stopped that when you two started dating.
Maybe you’d always been blind.
>>
The underground rapping scene had been something you’ve been used to since two years ago. This was where Jisung took you on your first date with him. You watched him spit fire raps into a mic, effectively capturing your heart. He used to dress in distressed jeans and holey t-shirts; the old pairs of sneakers on his feet completing the look. But now, as you watch your boyfriend rap up on stage, you don’t see the man you used to.
His lyrics were nasty, talking about things you know he’s never done. He was lying to the audience in front of him and they were eating up his every word. You wished the crowd knew that this wasn’t the same Jisung. Jisung never smoked marijuana, he never had multiple girls fling themselves at him. But then gain, “your boyfriend” had been different lately. So maybe, maybe he did do those things?
“She calls me her king and I call her when I have no one else to love.” 
You never called him your king. What girl could he have made up for this sentence? Was it even made up anymore? 
The thick and smoky air was starting to suffocate you. The loud noises and the bumping, sweaty bodies were becoming overwhelming. You had to get actual oxygen back into your lungs. You pushed passed the people watching and dancing to Jisung and walked outside. The air hit your face and even though it was cold, you welcomed the air. It really was cleaner outside than inside that stupid underground club. 
You leaned against the building’s brick wall and watched your breath come out in puffs of white air. Your jacket, well Jisung’s leather jacket, hung off your shoulders. You wished you could feel comfortable in his jacket, but you felt nothing but bile when you wore it. How had you and Jisung ever come to this point?
You remembered his boyish smirk and nervous laughter whenever he would talk to you. At the time you didn’t see through is tough exterior. You had just fallen for the town’s bad boy. But you fell for him too fast and easily accepted a date with him. The underground club was so thrilling at first. Hearing Jisung rap about his struggles and how great he was, that spoke to you. He spoke to you in a way you didn’t realize was possible.
But after two years of being his baby, you started to see him change. The changes were slow at first. He would go out for late night walks to get inspiration. It wasn’t unusual. But then Jisung became even more distance, he had started wearing his old sneakers, he ditched the new shoes you bought him for his birthday this year. He missed dinners with you and quit introducing you at the beginning of his rapping gigs. He never mentioned how you were “his muse and everlasting love” anymore. He didn’t look at you from the stage. He ignored your presence in the crowd.
But for some reason, Jisung had been getting back into his old, old habits. He would smoke the cigarettes he stole from the convenience store in the rich neighborhoods. He started drinking the nights away. He was not acting like the good person he once was. Jisung never hurt you, but he hurt your heart all the time.
“Well, well, well, I see someone doesn’t mind this cold ass air.”
Hwang Hyunjin. You turned to meet the young man’s eyes and found him staring back at you. Damn, had his clothes always looked so neat? Or were you just used to Jisung’s awful style?
“What do you want? You know you’re not allowed in this part of town.” You wanted to sneer at Hyunjin but you felt too tired to do so. Hell, you wanted to punch him but you had no energy. So, instead, you tried mustering up the best glare you could.
“Look, (Y/N), I’m not here because I want to be. And I know I’m not supposed to be here. I was just told to come fetch one of my friends.” Friends? Didn’t he mean younger brother? 
“I didn’t know Jeongin was still around. Hell, I didn’t even know he was allowed to come here anymore. Not after Jisung beat you.” Your words were supposed to feel menacing and cautious but Hyunjin could see the smile gracing your lips.
“Jeongin doesn’t listen to anybody. You should know that.” Was this the first civil conversation you’d had with Hyunjin? Or maybe it was just the first civil conversation you’ve had without screaming at your boyfriend. 
“Is he in there?” Hyunjin had made a move to go inside but he found himself wanting to talk to you more.
“Jeongin? I just said I didn’t know he was in there.”
“No, Jisung.”
“Oh.” Why was it that everything came back to Jisung? Had you really been that far up some guy’s ass? Had your whole life revolved around him?
“Uh yeah, Jisung’s in here. I’m not sure if he’s still on stage though.”
“Uh right. Well, I suppose I’ll see you around, (Y/N).” And with those final words Hyunjin disappeared inside.
>>
“Listen, I didn’t fucking ask your opinion? I’m going to go to that audition and you won’t stop me. I’ll be home whenever I can.” Jisung’s exasperated tone had tears begging to come out of your eyes. But they weren’t sad tears. You were too angry and disappointed to be sad.
“Don’t even fucking bother coming home. I don’t want you around anymore. I’m tired of all of this.” Had you really just said that? Did you just tell Jisung off?
“What the hell do you mean? I live here! We live here!” Jisung’s shout could be heard for miles. And frankly, you didn’t give a shit. You were sick and tired of questioning who this man was. You were tired of wondering what you two were anymore.
“No Jisung, I live here. I’ve been paying the goddamn rent, and you’re never even here enough for you to actually live here.” 
Jisung could feel his throat tighten up in a bad way.  You were finally kicking him out, you were tired of him, you were letting him go. You were leaving him. But he couldn’t find it in himself to say anything. He knew you were right; you always were. He just couldn’t say he was to blame. He knew this relationship would fail at some point. He would only want you around for a few months so he could write songs about you. He would pretend to love you, and whatever happened along they way, he would rap about it. Just like he did that one night.
He had been seeing this random girl, cheating on you, and writing about it. Being a bad boy kept people interested in him. He only wanted the fame and lyrics from you. He never loved you, that’s why he doesn’t feel sad to have you leaving him. 
“Oh yeah? Well fine! She was better than you anyways! She’s a better muse than you ever were.” This doesn’t even make sense to him? What’s going on Jisung?
“This is what you wanted right? Then leave! Go write about us and tell everyone how fucked up you are! How you used me.”
Jisung, pulled out one of those rich people cigarettes and slammed the door on his way out. You heard him shout out a “I’ll pick up my stuff by next Friday.”
And that was that. It was over without anyone actually having to say it. 
>>
Had it been any other occasion, you would have ignored the pounding on your neighbor’s door. But the knocks shook some of your hanging picture frames and it woke you up from your quiet slumber. You grabbed a hoodie, slipped it on quickly, grabbed an umbrella, and threw open your front door. You peeked out and glared instantly.
“Hwang Hyunjin what the hell are you doing?” Your voice had been a shouted whisper but it made the man turn around and stare at you. He rushed over to your door, not even questioning why you had an umbrella pointed at him.
“Jeongin is gone. I- I can’t find him and he’s not answering his phone.” 
Hyunjin’s chaotic aura made you pull him inside your home and flip the light switch on. You saw his pupils were dilated and his face was bright red. He had no coat on and you could feel how cold he was.
“Hm, well where was the last place you saw him?”
“(Y/N), I didn’t see him leave the house. I had woken up and he was still asleep, so I left for work. And when I got home- he- he wasn’t there.” 
Had this been anyone else you would not have slipped on your shoes, grabbed your phone, and rushed out the door. Not for anyone else would you have offered your help. Especially at two in the morning. You locked your front door and followed Hyunjin to his car. He drove off with you searching for his younger brother, the heater warming you both up. 
The silence between you and Hwang Hyunjin was deafening. But it gave you time to look out the window and search for Jeongin and think. Getting lost in your thoughts for a moment you are remembered of Hyunjin and your’s beginning.
>>
School had always been hard on you. You weren’t the smartest student, and you had no desire to be; but you had to pass class. And Hwang Hyunjin also needed to pass classes, for he wasn’t the smartest student either. So when your teacher suggested a study group for you and Hyunjin, you accepted. You had no choice obviously.
The study group consisted of you two and three other people. You didn’t know them but after a month, you all had become good study buddies. Specifically you and Hyunjin had become quite close. You two shared many laughs and smiles. It was the beginning of a great friendship that would last for years to come. And it proved true. Five years had passed by with Hyunjin right by your side. 
But there was one problem Hyunjin had with you for those many years, he loved you. He had fallen so deeply in love with you he almost forgot what it was like to dream without you being in them. You were always on his mind, and he thought you’d actually loved him back. You would lightly touch his arm and lean against him, holding his hand and kissing his cheek. You had given him hope.
But that hope was crushed when you rejected him. He had told you of his deepest love and you crushed him. You told him you were seeing someone else. 
“I’m actually with Han Jisung now Hyunjin. I’m flattered and I’m sorry. This won’t change us will it?”
But it did change everything. Hyunjin couldn’t look at you without feeling his heart break all over again. He had shown you his whole life, and had experienced so much with you. But you didn’t want him. You wanted the bad boy. And when Jisung got threatened by Hyunjin, the two became enemies; and you chose Jisung’s side. It’s like all those years meant nothing to you.
Now you and Jisung thought of Hwang Hyunjin as the enemy. Even though he did everything for you.
>>
“Do you think he’d be at the underground club, (Y/N)?” Hyunjin’s voice broke you out of your trance as you looked at him through your lashes. 
Would Jeongin be there? Possibly. Jeongin loves music and he loves the energies of people enjoying music. He did visit the club that one time, so maybe he went back.
“Let’s go check then.”
The club was crowded once again with all kinds of bodies. The music was thumping and it made your head pound. The smell of alcohol and smoke made you want to throw up again. But this wasn’t about you; you’re here for Jeongin. As you walked through the crowds and searched for the boy, you had Hyunjin hot on your trail. He didn’t want to lose you, and you didn’t want to be left alone here either. 
“Jeongin! Jeongin?” You had watched Hyunjin bump into a body that you assumed was his brother. Jeongin was completely drunk and laughing like crazy. You saw Hyunjin’s angry face and followed him as he started dragging Jeongin out. But before Hyunjin could leave the building, a hand grabbed Jeongin’s and yanked him back. 
“Leave the kid alone! He wants to have fun!” 
“My brother isn’t allowed to drink and you shouldn’t encourage under aged drinking!” Hyunjin was about to throw fists until he saw the man who had talked back to him. 
“Han Jisung?”
“Hwang Hyunjin.”
“(Y/N), please take my brother outside, he needs to get away from here. Here’s the keys.” Hyunjin tossed you the keys and ushered Jeongin into your arms. 
You tried not to glimpse at Jisung, knowing he’d be drunk and dancing with the men and women around him. Yet, you still found his eyes. Those eyes held so many memories for you. You had to force yourself to look away and take Jeongin outside. When you succeeded and reached the cool night air; you saw it began to snow. 
You quickly walked Jeongin to Hyunjin’s car and laid him in the backseat. You basically stuffed his body into a fetal position so he could fit the seats. After struggling you saw Hyunjin walking out. He was stomping and had a scowl on his face. You felt a bubble in your throat and you swallowed it, but it seemed to go straight to your heart. The bubble encased your heart and felt like it was going to pop if Hyunjin got any closer to you.
Hyunjin was holding out his hand for his car keys, and when you reluctantly gave them to him, your hands touched and that old spark came to life. The bubble popped and you felt nervous to be in his presence again.
“What happened in there, Hyunjin?”
“Jisung was spewing shit again. He talked about Jeongin, you, me, us. He was just being his stupid drunk self.”
“Whatever he said, I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d be there, especially this late.”
You had never known Jisung to party this early, he would always be laying down sleeping, or on the couch writing lyrics. You had wondered what Jisung said to Hyunjin though. 
“It’s fine. Let’s just get Jeongin home.”
>>
With Jeongin tucked in, water in his tummy, and Advil in his system; you met Hyunjin is the living room. He donned a frown and rubbed his temples. As you walked closer to him, you sat on the couch beside him and patted his back.
“I’m sorry. I can walk home so you don’t have to get back out gain.”
“Stop. You can stay here, I don’t want to leave Jeongin and I don’t want you walking alone. It will be fine.” Hyunjin’s stressed voice made you crinkle your nose. 
“Just like old times right?” A light chuckle escaped Hyunjin as he finally looked at you. He took in your tired features and felt bad for waking you up earlier. He shouldn’t have even come to your door. But in emergencies, you always knew what to do. You still do it seems. Whenever Hyunjin needed help he always looked for you. 
“Just like old times.”
Hyunjin went and grabbed you some more blankets for you to sleep with in the guest bedroom. He had offered more pillows but you didn’t have a need for them, but the gesture was adorable. He always was a worrier. 
“Goodnight, Hyunjin.”
“Wait. Before you sleep, I’m sorry. I never knew you and Jisung had broken up like you did.”
“You couldn’t have known. We didn’t talk to each other for such a long time. My head was too far up his ass anyways. I was tired of him using me.”
You watched Hyunjin’s smile light up the dim lit room. God, how you missed that smile. How you missed Hyunjin. 
“Sleep well, (Y/N). I’m glad you’re here.”
“Sleep well, Hyunjin. I’m glad to be back with you.”
373 notes · View notes
wvrmtails · 5 years
Text
(  and what loneliness is more lonely than distrust?  )
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( keiynan lonsdale, twenty one, agender ) my goodness, is peter pettigrew back? it’s been a few years since the halfblood has been around the castle, but i’d recognize he/they anywhere. rumor has it the seventh year spent the past few years aligned with the order. they’re stillallocentric & cunning and obsessive & passive, though. and the gryffindor still reminds me of ketchup stains on band shirts, an incomprehensible minute long string of curses, tracing the veins in your wrist, the smell of breakfast and fresh coffee, card tricks at three in the morning. well, then, i guess some things never change. 
links:  playlist.  pinboard.  stats. 
triggers: child abandonment, eating disorder (specifically bed/bulimia), depression, anxiety, weed. there’s a heads up before every bulletpoint!
history.
child abandonement mention |  peter grew up in glasgow, scotland and was raised by his mother, a halfblooded witch called daraja pettigrew. his dad wasn’t in the picture, hadn’t been from the moment his mum had told him that she was pregnant. | end of mention
which meant peter learned how to be alone from a young age. his mother worked a lot, after all, so she could pay the rent of their small flat and give peter the bare minimum, the things he needed. peter delved into fictional worlds: he read books. comics, mostly, but also a lot of roald dahl. he also watched a lot of telly, because tv is the bomb.
went to muggle elementary, where he was kind of? an odd one out. his clothes were always a bit lumpy, his words a bit jumbled, his eyes shifty. was an outsider on good days, a target on less good ones. he spent many lunch breaks eating alone, and most of the time he didn’t mind — being alone meant he could let his mind wander.
still, it fucked with his self esteem. no kid likes feeling alone, or like an outsider.
and then hogwarts rolled around and! friends! marauders! peter felt so at home! oh my god okay listen. he loves the marauders so much and he was so hyped and happy to be part of this little group and there was a Lot of hero worship there, esp in the early days?
peter always loved heroes. he loves comic books and people who save the day and get the girl and do it all. i think he kind of … projected that onto james and sirius especially? did not know how to do this friendship thing as an 11 year old tbh, was a mess, was blinded by their amazingness damn
also. re: being sorted into gryffindor! peter admires heroism and bravery and chivalry, and it’s your values that get you sorted some place. and he does try to be brave, and he IS, because he becomes a damn animagus for his bud! i mean! he was not a hatstall btw  — i choose to ignore that stupid bit of post canon. it took a while for the hat, sure, but no more than two minutes. 
pete was & is a shit student, not bc he was dumb, but just because school was not. his thing. his jam. the system was just not for him. deadlines? exams? homework? no thank you. anyway, peter’s skills flourished a lot more in different settings, like … using charms for convenience. or becoming an animagus for his bff. making potions against hangovers. etc.
becoming an animagus for remus was ! important ! to peter ! he did it for remus, not because of peer pressure, or anything else — he did it because it was right, and his friend deserved it and ! he did it, too, because he could. sure, his transfig grades may have been more than poor, but the kid did have some skill. he just needed motivation, which mcgonagall didn’t give (bc. she scared him.) and this situation? motivated the hell out of him. 
peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t taken a bit aback when he learned about remus’ lycanthropy — not because he was scared of him, to be honest, but he was just ? shocked ? he was more scared for remus, and so sad? so fucking sad for him? : (
collects chocolate frog cards like it’s his damn job. i mean, he did it before hogwarts, but once he arrived and there was more opportunity to trade and a whole club dedicated to it, peter grew more and more driven to complete his collection, lmao. peter also really likes playing gobstones and is pretty good at it? same with chess & card games — he loves games!!!! so much!!!
weed & anxiety tw | peter started smoking pot in the summer between his fourth and fifth year, and never really stopped. it made him slack more at school, but also eased his anxiety, which had started to develop in his fourth year. as months passed, peter became more and more of a stoner, which made him both more relaxed and funnier, but also ... a whole of a lot lazier. | end of weed tw
peter had always been a bit ... fidgety, easily on edge, a bit nervous, but he’d never really known anxiety until around fourteen years old. his insecurities grew, as he started comparing himself more to his friends and finding nothing but things he lacked in comparison to them, and questions as to why they put up with him. | end of anxiety tw
so his schooldays mostly looked like ... doing nothing, playing games, having fun with his mates, getting high, forgetting his homework, stressing about homework, and somewhere, in a tiny corner of his being, worrying about the war. whenever those worries started coming up, though, he was able to push them away, because the war was not yet there, not for him at least. there was graduation to worry about first, and once that was done, then he could worry about the war.
and then the war came to hogwarts. peter was shocked. peter had been in denial about the war and how close it could hit him, because in his mind he and his friends would be safe at hogwarts, would be safe until at least graduation, and then that was all gone. peter didn’t do much during the battle. i can imagine that he just hid, that he tried to stay out of trouble, that a side of him showed itself that he did not like at all. he worried about his friends, hoped they were safe, but didn’t go looking for them, didn’t try to protect them: he clung to safety and hid. like a fucking coward. he prayed, for a moment, and then cursed god to hell and back. probably smoked a few cigarettes, too.
post battle & currently.
peter is ashamed. ashamed of his cowardice, ashamed of his passiveness, of his incapability to stand up and fight, like so many of his friends did. a disgust grew in his chest for himself, and yet he was glad, somewhere, that he had hidden. he’d not seen as much as others had. he’d not gotten hurt. he had not died.
he did join the order, along with his friends, in an attempt to make up for his earlier lack of bravery, but he finds himself incapable to do much. he’s not good at dueling and while he’s able to be strategic and cunning, his mind seems to shut down whenever he tries to apply himself. he’s terrified, frankly, and he’s angry, because he should just be at fucking hogwarts. 
that idea i mentioned earlier, that the war wouldn’t be real until after graduation, and then graduation being postponed significantly, kind of froze peter up. rather than dedicating himself to the order in his own ways, as he would do in a canon verse, or eventually deciding to walk over to the death eaters, peter just became passive. i think peter hung around hq a lot, cleaning up and cooking food and making sure there was always enough tea/coffee/beer/liquor around for when there were meetings. would rather clean a dirty toilet than go on a mission. The Order’s personal MAID! 
depression & weed & eating disorder (bed/bulimia) tw | peter feels useless. he feels like a shitty person. he feels like he’s a burden. he hates himself. peter starts secluding himself, hiding in his mother’s home. he smokes more pot. he sometimes goes a week without seeing someone besides his mum. he watches too much telly and reads comics and drowns in fictional worlds and he becomes depressed. he sinks into it without noticing and can’t come back from it. his eating habits ( which have always bordered on unhealthy ) turn worse; peter binges, and then restricts, falls into a cycle. it’s the only routine he has.
when he’s around his friends, he lives up a little. he cracks jokes and wants to play games and laughs and feels a bit more alive, but he always craves his time on his own. that’s his new way to feel safe: to stick to his newly found routine, hidden in his room, away from reality. | end of tw
and then, finally, he was able to return to hogwarts. the three years spent away from school feel like a blur, if you ask him now, a useless blur, and peter’s laughing when he steps on the train. he’s glad. he’s glad. he can return to his plan to graduate and then, maybe, find the power in himself to face the war, rather than still, kind of, deny it. peter just wants to return to his last year and make the most of it, and return to the way life once was. ( that that’s kind of impossible is, well, yet another thing he’s in denial about. )
random facts & ramblings.
peter parker is his favourite superhero just because ... they share a first name and because peter parker is a bit of an underdog too and peter is just like! amazing! he named his owl parker.
he hates cats. used to love them --- he was allowed to take the cat from home with him to hogwarts when he was eleven, but he brought him back home after an unfortunate incident where his cat nearly ate him while he was in his animagus form. “sorry ma, i don’t love him any more. here. have him.” 
peter is actually a solid cook. this is because he learned to make some basic food when he was still a kid, first with his grandma, and later on his own. he liked doing it for his mother and he was. .. good at it? peter is also just passionate about food and finds comfort in cooking. breakfast food and baked goods are Prime Food Categories. 
he is asexual af, panromantic. has kissed both guys and gals and nb pals but did not like it??? confused. does not understand sexuality and all that jazz but tries not to think abt it because like! he’s got enough stress! doesnt need to think abt this!
peter is also agender, but i think he’s a lot less aware about this, because it’s confusing and so he just tries not to think about it. he does feel okay with he/him pronouns, but just doesn’t feel connected at all to being a boy/man
peter has abandonment issues because his dad, well, never even bothered to be there. not even for a second. he’s just constantly scared that people will leave and it’s funny, because he will probably end up abandoning all of his loved ones KDJFHSDF.
peter is quite non confrontational but also not ... meek? he just avoids it, either by physically staying out of people’s way or by dismissing most of the things said and getting out of there. a Passive Kid. will, however, defends his friends honour, because damn it, he loves them so much.
he’s such a fucking dork i swear to god. but he’s funny! peter is really funny. i deeply believe in this. he makes great puns and is able to just come out of nowhere and make a comment that just. hits the nail right on its head. 
peter curses a lot and has a scottish accent and sometimes he will have a minute long cursing session that no one rly understands.
listen i have such a wide array of hc’s im not going to list them all here just ask me
possible plots.
tutors. someone help peter graduate bc that is like. something he does want to do. he’s taking his newts in transfig, potions and herbology.
fellow collectors. please trade chocolate frog cards with peter and help him finish his collection before he loses his gd mind.
let’s play a game! peter rly likes playing games and tbh he’s usually in for one ( though it does depend on who you are, lmao ) so! maybe your character and peter just like hanging out and playing some Games.
i will add more im just so tired of typing rn KSDFHSJKDFHKJSDFKDSFH
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