#have I already figured out what their wedding song would be? definitely

[scuderiahoney]

Someone Sane

Max Verstappen x reader // Strawberry Wine Pt II

Strawberry Wine Series // Masterlist

Part Two to Always Walk Me Home (would recommend reading AWMH first)

Summary: You and Max have a shared love for strawberry wine. The rest of your friends think you’ve got bad taste. Or: @vetteltea read Always Walk Me Home and asked for more about the strawberry wine, and then I ran with it. So this is also a bit of a prequel, really 🍓

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication

You walk through the front door of the apartment, shucking off your coat and slipping off your shoes. Max Verstappen’s apartment is a shoes off household. You’ve learned that in the two and a half months you’ve known him. You can hear your friends in the kitchen, laughing loudly about something. One of Max’s cats- Jimmy or Sassy, you can’t tell them apart- is sitting in the hall, watching you curiously.

You’re the last one to arrive. You’d had to work late, had told them to get started without you. You bend to pat the cat on the head on your way past. Everyone is gathered in the kitchen, standing around the island. Someone yells your name enthusiastically when you walk in. Your friend Louise, the one who’d introduced you to this friend group, shoves a wine glass in front of you. It’s not full, just a half glass of something pink.

“Try it,” she says.

Her eyes are wide. Everyone is staring at you. This feels like some sort of initiation. You smell the cup- you’d have assumed it was a rosé, but there’s a hint of something else there. Trusting your friends to not have spiked it with something, you take a cautious sip. Strawberries. It’s strawberry wine. Sweet and sugary. Next to you, Louise laughs. You furrow your brows and stare at her.

“What?” You ask.

“The wine,” she says through a giggle. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”

You take another sip. She raises her brows.

“No?” You say, before you down the rest of the glass. “No, that’s good. I love strawberries.”

Her jaw drops open. The rest of the group erupts into chaos. Someone calls you batshit insane. You look around in bewilderment.

“Thank god,” Max says, taking your glass from your hand. “Someone sane is finally here.”

He’s holding the bottle of wine in his hand. You don’t know Max very well- he’d been a friend of a friend up until a few months ago, when Louise invited you to a party and then kept inviting you to events. You’re… friendly. He intimidates you a bit. He’s smiling at you now, though, as he pours you a full glass of the wine.

“They all think it’s awful,” he says, shaking his head in disappointment. “I was going to drink the whole thing by myself. It would’ve been sad.”

You blink and laugh, taking the glass back from him. “Cheers, then, I guess?”

He picks his glass up from the counter and clinks it against yours.

…..

“Does anyone want wine?” You call out from your kitchen into the living room.

It’s a quiet night. Not everyone was able to make it, so you’re at your apartment. There’s a football match playing on the TV that nobody’s really paying attention to. There’s a few people playing some sort of game of cards that you didn’t even try to understand. Everyone else is just sitting around and chatting.

“What kind?” Louise calls back.

You open the fridge and laugh. “Never mind.”

“S’that fucking strawberry shit, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” you say in a singsongy tone.

You turn around, reaching for your corkscrew. At the very least, it means you won’t have to share with everyone. Just-

Max calls out. “Bring me a glass? And maybe just bring the bottle in here?”

Someone is making fun of him for it, you can hear it from the other room. You do as he said, though. You hand him the glass, having already poured the wine into it. Then you turn to head back to your original seat. Max reaches up with his free hand and tugs on your wrist.

He pats the open spot on the couch next to him. “Sit here? So we can share the wine.”

Your face grows hot, but you nod and come around to sit next to him. He’s potentially the only one watching the football match- you think his favorite team is one of the ones playing. You feel a bit out of alignment for a moment. You’re in your own apartment, on your own couch, but something about him asking you to sit next to him has thrown you off kilter. You take a breath and try to relax. He doesn’t mean anything by it. You’re overthinking it.

You settle back into the couch by your second glass. By Max’s second, he throws his arm over the back of the sofa, his fingers just barely brushing your neck in the process. It’s nothing, but it makes you shiver anyways.

…..

Max is out of the country on your birthday. He’s in Spain for the Grand Prix. He’ll be back soon after, though, and then the next race is in Monaco. You’re already buzzing with excitement, chatting with your friends about outfits and plans and events throughout the weekend.

The night of your birthday your friends take you out to dinner. It’s a Monday night, so it won’t be anything too crazy, but it’s nice to know they’re thinking about you. You have good food, better wine, and then Louise invites everyone back to her apartment to hang out for the rest of the night. You’re in her kitchen when you hear the front door open. It strikes you as odd- you’d all walked here together. Though you suppose someone could be leaving, or popping out to get some air. You’re reaching into the fridge when someone clears their throat. You turn over your shoulder and find Max.

“Hi, birthday girl,” he says, voice soft and scratchy. He holds up a bag. “Brought you a present.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, because you swear his plane didn’t land until 8:00, and it’s only 8:30. You sort of want to hug him, but he’s not a very touchy person, and you’re not sure you know him well enough yet. You cross the kitchen anyway.

“What are you doing here?” You ask. “You were in Spain.”

He laughs. “It’s not that long of a flight.”

“Yeah, but…” you blink up at him. “You had a busy weekend. I didn’t expect you to come over.”

He tilts his head at you. “It’s your birthday.”

He says it like that’s enough explanation. To him, maybe it is. He may not be a touchy person, but he is the type to show up for his friends. You’ve seen examples of it everywhere- he’s the first to respond in a group chat, the first to show up to every party. It’s a side of him that you don’t think the rest of the world gets to see very often. You’re honored to somehow be a part of it.

He holds the gift bag out to you. “I don’t think I’m going to stay long,” he admits, scrubbing at his scruff with his free hand. “I’m exhausted. But I wanted to at least stop by.”

You take the bag. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know.”

He shrugs. “I wanted to.”

Inside the bag you find a soft, light scarf, similar to the one Louise wore the last time you saw Max. You’d complimented it, asked where she got it- she’d answered a boutique in Spain. You gasp, running the fabric through your fingers. It’s cream colored, and you wrap it around your neck happily. Then you realize the bag still feels heavy. You reach inside again and your fingers wrap around the neck of a wine bottle. You know what it’s going to be before you even pull it out.

You hold the bottle to your chest and smile up at him. “My favorite.”

He’s smiling a bright smile, has been since you took the bag from him. It makes his cheeks squish and his eyes crinkle. The look he’s giving you is warm and soft. Your heart thuds wildly in your chest. It’s just him being friendly. That’s enough, really, isn’t it? Max picks his friends carefully. The fact that he’s here, that he made such an effort to be here with you for your birthday, is enough.

You uncork the bottle and pour two glasses- one for you and one for him.

It’s not until the next morning that you notice the embroidery on the end of the scarf- a tiny pink strawberry, hidden in the corner.

…..

Your apartment is packed to the brim with people. Your friends are here, your friend’s friends are here, people’s siblings and cousins. What started as a small Grand Prix afterparty has turned into a bit of an overwhelming event. The guest of honor isn’t even here, and likely won’t be. He may have showed, had told you he was planning on it, but then he went and won the race, and now you’re sure he’s busy. You’re sure Red Bull has roped him into some sort of sponsored event.

You’d texted him to tell him congratulations, but so far he hasn’t answered. You can’t say you blame him. You’d seen the celebrations at the podium ceremony- there’s no way he’s had a moment alone.

You and your friends had opted to go back to your apartment since it was closest. However, with this many friends all in town to watch him race, your home has become a bit of a landing pad. You can barely make it through your own kitchen without stepping on somebody’s toes. You’re running dangerously low on alcohol, though you wonder if that may be a good thing. Maybe it’s time to move this party to a club or a restaurant or anywhere other than your tiny apartment.

You squeeze your way through to the front hallway, trying to find anywhere that has any sort of space. You can see from here that your balcony is nearly dangerously packed with people. You reach into the hall cupboard, where you know you keep a couple bottles of wine-

The front door swings open. You groan at the idea of another person in your apartment, resting your head on the edge of a shelf in the cupboard. You don’t even bother looking to see who it is, because everyone you know is already here.

“Holy shit,” you hear. “I didn’t know you could fit this many people in here.”

You peer around the cupboard door. Max is standing there, a wide grin on his face. He smells like champagne and Red Bull. Someone makes their way through the hallway, and he steps back to stay hidden behind the open door.

“We figured you were out with the team,” you say, eyes wide.

“I’m going,” he says, jerking his head towards the hallway. “I came to get you guys. Who are all of these people?”

“Friends of friends, people’s families, I don’t know,” you say, still peering around the door at him. “I think someone’s grandma is here. We’re almost out of alcohol. I’m grabbing wine.”

You pull the bottle from the cupboard and hold it up to him. He grins impossibly wider at the label. Strawberry wine.

“Nobody else will drink that,” he says. “You’re going to have a mutiny on your hands.”

“Yeah, well, I got it as a gift for you, to celebrate the race, but now I’m thinking about chugging it and then locking myself in the bedroom.”

Max raises his brows. You stare back at him. Then it hits you. You step around the cupboard door and without thinking, you throw your arms around him.

“Congrats, by the way. On the race.”

You remember mid hug that this is Max, and that Max doesn’t really like hugs. Before you can pull away, though, he’s wrapping his arms around you. He squeezes you tight to his chest for a moment. You feel him rest his chin on top of your head.

“Thank you,” he says, quietly. “I’m glad you were there to see it. And thank you for the wine.”

You know he’s talking generally, about your friend group. But for a moment, you let yourself think he’s talking just about you.

“I have a better plan,” he says, keeping you held against his chest. “You and I take that bottle. We sneak it into the club with us.”

“And all the people in my apartment?” You ask, flinching as you hear something that sounds an awful lot like broken glass.

He sighs. “We bring them with us. It’s better than them destroying your place.”

“Even the grandma?”

“Grandmas love nightclubs.”

You laugh into his chest. “You should go. If someone sees you they’ll go crazy.”

He pulls away and grabs your shoulders. “We should go. We’ll call Louise on the way, tell her where to meet us.”

Really, who are you to say no? He’s Max Verstappen, he’s just won the Monaco Grand Prix. So you slip on a pair of shoes and follow him out the front door before anyone can catch sight of him. Then you’re walking down the streets of Monaco, side by side with him. He takes the bottle of wine from your hands and stops at a crowd of people partying in someone’s front lawn.

“Has anyone got a corkscrew?” He calls out. Someone throws one to him. He opens the bottle, then calls, “and maybe a couple cups?”

Two plastic cups are handed through the crowd to him. They ask him to sign the corkscrew. He hands it back afterwards and shoves the cork in his pocket. Then he pours two glasses and hands one to you. Strawberry wine on a sidewalk in Monaco, in step with the man who won the Grand Prix. You’ve never had a stranger or better day.

He calls Louise when the club is in sight. “Yeah, just down the road. Uh-huh. No, bring everyone.” You hear Louise say something. “Well I don’t know, does the grandma want to come to the party?” He asks, quirking a brow at you. “Then bring her. Okay. See you soon, then. Oh- no, wait, Louise- she’s with me.” He reaches out and squeezes your upper arm lightly. The touch sends sparks shivering up your spine. “Yeah. Long story. Just meet us there, yeah?”

…..

It’s nearly Christmas, and you’re stressed. That might be an understatement, actually. The holidays are always stressful, plus a project at work that’s gone haywire, leaving you picking up the pieces. You wouldn’t even be at the party, too exhausted and so tired of people, if it wasn’t your last chance to see most of your friends before the holidays kick off. You’re leaving to spend time with your family soon. It’s one of the few things you’re looking forward to.

You wander through the party feeling a bit like a zombie. It’s Max’s apartment, with more people in attendance than your usual group. You bounce from friend to friend, always clinging to someone’s side, trying to avoid talking to anyone you don’t know, or anyone at all, really. You’re just socially exhausted.

Max finds you in the kitchen. He sweeps you under his arm into a quick side hug, and you force a smile when you look up at him. He sees right through it, frowning down at you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, poking your cheek lightly.

You try harder to make the smile genuine. “Nothing! Why?”

He stares at you, tilts his head. “You’re lying.”

You shrug. “M’just tired.”

You can tell he doesn’t believe you. But someone asks him a question, and the friend you’ve glued yourself to is leaving the room, so you follow. You don’t see Max for a while. In fact, it’s been a suspiciously long amount of time. Somebody else has noticed and brings it up, asking where he’s gone off to.

“Oh, he ran to the store, I think. Didn’t say why.”

Someone suggests a drinking game. You make a break for the balcony. Jimmy is standing in front of the door, staring up at you.

“Jim,” you mutter, bending to pet him. “I know you’re gonna make a run for it the second I open the door.”

He meows at you, like he understands. You try to usher him towards Max’s bedroom, but he stays put. You sigh in frustration. In the living room, the noise kicks up another notch. When Max steps into the hallway, there are tears in your eyes.

“Did he scratch you?” Max asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and squeeze your eyes shut. “No. M’fine.”

Max clicks his tongue at you. You sigh, again. There’s a shuffling noise, and then you hear the sliding door open. Cool air hits your face. Max’s hands land on your shoulders and he leads you outside. You’re in socks, and the concrete is cold on your feet. You open your eyes and sit down on the patio couch. Max closes the door behind him and sits down next to you. It’s then that you notice the bottle of wine in his hand. Strawberry wine. You’d checked the fridge earlier- that bottle wasn’t there. So either he’s been hiding it, or… he ran to the store. Didn’t say why. Your throat feels tight.

He hands you the bottle carefully. He’s already opened it, but he neglected to bring any glasses. You shrug and tip the bottle to your lips. Sweet, sugary, room temperature wine washes over your tongue and you sigh.

“What’s going on?” He asks, gesturing for the bottle. He waits patiently as he takes a sip, too.

You huff and rub your cheeks with your empty hands. “Nothing, Max. I’m fine. There’s a whole party inside, I’m sure they’d love to play drinking games with you, so-“

“But I’m here with you,” he says patiently, voice soft. Your heart is cracking wide open in your chest. “Because I want to be. So tell me what’s going on.”

There’s so much to tell him that you don’t know where to start. It’s your family, it’s the traveling you’re about to do. It’s work, so stressful you wish you could just quit. It’s this awful feeling you can’t shake that maybe none of your friends really want you here. It’s Max, and the way your heart skips a beat when he looks at you. The way your stomach fills with butterflies when he touches you. The way he could have any girl in the whole world, and you’re just his friend. You curl your knees close to your chest and wrap your arms around them.

“I’m just stressed,” you admit, figuring that’s the easiest answer. “Work, and the holidays, and… just , everything. You know?”

He nods, passes the bottle of wine back to you. You take another drink. You study the label of it to try and keep yourself from crying in front of him. That would be embarrassing. That would scare him off. You rest your chin on your knee. Then you feel it.

Max’s arm, draping over your shoulders. The weight of him is heavy and steady and warm. He’s going to throw you into a tailspin with just that one motion. Then- like he doesn’t know how much he’s already affecting you- he presses his hand to your shoulder and pulls you against his side. Fuck. You’re not going to cry in front of him. You won’t do it. But Max doesn’t do hugs and cuddling, he’s not a touchy person, and yet he’s wrapping himself around you to hold you close.

You rest your head against his shoulder and take another drink of wine. He takes the bottle back and does the same. His hand sweeps up and down your upper back in a soothing motion, over and over again.

You’re not going to cry. You won’t. You close your eyes instead. You feel Max’s cheek against the top of your head. You won’t cry.

“Maybe after the holidays we should all go somewhere warm and relaxing,” he says. You let out a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh. “I think we could all use a bit of a break, no?”

You nod against his chest. He squeezes your shoulder. If you keep your eyes squeezed shut, he won’t see the tears. You can’t cry in front of him. So you sit, blind to the world around you, your head pressed to his chest.

Later, you blink your eyes open to the sound of voices, feeling disoriented. Someone is saying something to Max, saying your name. And Max, his voice rumbling beneath your chest-

“-walk her home, or she can stay here,” he says. “I’ve got her, mate.”

The sliding door closes. You realize you’d fallen asleep. Your face heats up, unsure of if you should pretend you’re not awake or if you should pull away immediately. You’re still trying to decide when Max’s hand starts brushing up and down your back again. Your eyes slip closed. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath. No wonder you fell asleep.

Max shifts, squeezing your shoulder. “Schatje, time to wake up,” he whispers, close to your ear.

You sigh and pull away, sitting up to look at him. He keeps an arm wrapped around your shoulders. You rub your eyes, trying to clear the sleep from them. You’re too exhausted to find it in yourself to be embarrassed about falling asleep on him. Besides, he could’ve woken you up if he wanted to. He’s being a good friend.

“It’s late,” he says. You swear you’re imagining it when his hand comes up and his fingers brush against your cheek. “Do you want to sleep in the guest room?”

You nod.

In the morning, when you drag yourself out of bed, Max is gone. There’s a note on the counter. He had early morning training, and then a padel game. Didn’t want to wake you. Next to the note, there’s a bowl of strawberries. Sassy winds herself around your ankles. You smile and try to slow the beating of your heart.

…..

Max is standing in your empty apartment one night, the last of your friends to leave. You’re wandering through the living room, picking up cups and trying to pretend he isn’t watching you. When you try to walk by him and head for the kitchen, he grabs your hip.

You stop and stare. His eyes are boring into yours, wide and blue and soft. There’s a smile on his lips. You haven’t asked him yet why he’s still here, mostly because you don’t really want him to go. His hand is burning a hole in the fabric of your shirt where he’s holding onto you. You think if you look down, you’ll find flames licking up your side. But you can’t tear your eyes away from him.

His other hand sneaks up, and his fingers brush against the side of your face. It reminds you of the moment on his balcony, weeks ago now. You’re caught between wanting to let your eyes slip closed and never wanting to break his gaze.

You realize moments later he’s looking for some sort of confirmation from you. He’s waiting, though you’re not sure exactly what he’s looking for. In an act of blind, foolish courage, you take a step towards him and wind one of your arms around the back of his neck. Max sighs. You twist your fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck.

Max is your friend. This could ruin everything. If this goes badly…

You take another step closer. You can hear his soft breaths. His fingers brush against your cheek- you swear you feel him tremble, just slightly, just enough for you to know. He wants this, but he’s scared, too. His heart is beating just as fast. His mind is racing just as fast.

When he kisses you, his lips taste like strawberry wine.

…..

Max is holding your hand on the sidewalk. He’s walking you home from a club you’d been at with your friends. You love him, but you haven’t told him yet. You’ve only just realized it that night, seeing yourself laugh in the bathroom mirror and then seeing the smile on his face when he looked at you.

Next to you, though you don’t know it, Max is having the exact same realization.

…..

“Can you grab my watch?” Max calls out from the kitchen. “In the bedside table, top drawer?”

You’re trying to resist the urge to tell him to find it himself. You’re horribly late to a dinner, this stupidly fancy dinner that has you second guessing every piece of clothing you put on. Max was no help, telling you that everything you tried on was perfect and beautiful and would look even better on his floor. You love him, but today, he’s driving you insane.

You stomp over to the bedside table and open the drawer. The box with his watch is sitting there, nestled in with other odds and ends. You pick up the box and almost close the drawer without even noticing. But something makes you pause and stare.

In the drawer there’s a little plastic tray, and it’s full of wine corks. You recognize the logo. Max is calling your name in the other room, something about hurrying up, but suddenly you don’t care about the stupid dinner. You’re thinking of that sidewalk stroll you took so long ago, the corkscrew he borrowed, the way he put the cork in his pocket. You’d thought it was to throw it away later.

He calls your name again, from the doorway. You reach into the drawer without turning around, running your fingers over the corks. He makes a noise and walks across the room to you, wraps his arms around your waist and tucks his chin over your shoulder.

“Did you save the all corks?” You ask, voice breathy.

Max nods, presses his lips to your bare shoulder. “All except the very first one. By the time I… when I went to grab it, it was gone.”

You laugh. You can’t help it. You turn around and press yourself into his arms and laugh. He’s staring down at you in bewilderment. He’s been driving you crazy all afternoon, he must think you’ve finally snapped.

“The first cork is in my jewelry box,” you tell him, and a laugh bubbles up between his lips, too. “I took it off the counter. I didn’t know why, at the time. Just felt like I should.”

You’re late to the dinner. Max makes an excuse. Nobody believes it, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

…..

Some time later, there will be a moment. It won’t matter where you are, or what you’re doing. It will be you and Max, and you will look at him and the whole world will melt away. And the strangest thought will pop into your head.

Our friends are going to send us strawberry wine when we get engaged, you’ll think. And they will bring it to the wedding.

He’ll turn to you, like he’s heard your thoughts. He’ll smile, cheeks pink as the strawberry wine. At that same moment, he’ll be wondering if strawberry shortcake is an acceptable wedding dessert. Every time you taste strawberries, you’ll think back to the kitchen in his apartment. The wine you were supposed to hate. And Max, a smile on his face, glad to not be alone.

Someone sane is finally here, he’d said.

And then everything had changed.

Read part 3, Empty Space

p.s.: am I way too invested in this pairing? Probably. Have I already decided what their wedding song would be? Definitely.

p.s. again: ironically, it turns out both @vetteltea and I hate strawberry wine 🍓

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #am I way too invested in this pairing? maybe #have I already figured out what their wedding song would be? definitely #honeywrites #mv33 #AWMH #strawberry wine verse

[bigfatbimbo]

Can you do a Alastor x married reader? (No smut please just wholesome and gore shit)

omg i didn’t know if you wanted Alastor with a reader who’s already married to somebody else or if you want reader who’s married to Alastor.

Initially i thought it was the ladder so that’s what i wrote. If you wanted the first option you can drop another ask and i’ll write that too!

✧.* He goes absolutely crazy for your wedding anniversaries, like i’m not kidding. He would probably do really extreme borderline insane grand gestures

✧.* like say you like nirvana he would probably hunt down kurt kobain and steal his soul just so you get a free concert

✧.* that was a ridiculous example but the gestures are seriously that crazy 

✧.* His love language would probably be gift giving and acts of service. He’s the type to unexpectedly get you flowers or chocolates because he doesn’t really know how else to express his affection towards you.

✧.* On your wedding day, your first dance would probably start slow but then halfway through the song pick up the pace and have like an electro-swing type beat. 

✧.* I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t tell you about it either, just all of a sudden started spinning and dipping you. 

✧.* as you know, he is SUCH an attention whore and his jealousy gets even worse after you two get married. He wants your eyes on him at all times and throws a little tantrum anytime someone else has your attention.

✧.* Luckily you know him well enough to figure out when this happens. Maybe even call him out on it, that’ll get him going.

✧.* If you do end up saying something about his jealousy, especially if it’s in a teasing way, watch his grin tighten and his eyes widen before shaking his head slightly. Obviously trying to hide how much you just caught him off guard.

✧.* He’ll probably say something like “Oh, my dear, you know me far too well.”

✧.* Kisses aren’t as common as they are in other peoples relationships, not to say they don’t happen. Usually he’s the one to initiate it as he’s not that big of a fan of physical touch.

✧.* But he’ll wait until you two have a moment alone and lean down to kiss you.

✧.* Although if he is in a touchy mood, however rare that scenario might be, he will show you very discreetly. maybe you two are just lounging in bed and he’ll gradually scoot ever so slightly closer too you until your practically squeezed together.

✧.* Maybe you take the hint and start to hold his hand, or even rub his back. He wouldn’t say how much he liked it but maybe even let him lean on your shoulder.

✧.* Brother has mad parental issues and misses his mommy so he actually would love feeling taken care of like that.

✧.* More on his jealousy, he will ABSOLUTELY WITHOUT A DOUBT kill for you. Whether it’s someone who just had your attention for a little too long, or someone who just plain annoyed you, they’re a goner. OH, and it will not be fast. it will be drawn out and slow because this bitch is absolutely crazy.

✧.* He loves to dance so much that’s probably the most common form of physical touch between you two. 

✧.* Alastor also has a terrible habit of just talking AT you. Usually you humor him at listen even if it feels like he’s talking to himself more than you. Buddy just thinks the things he has to say or super important so you just nod your head and smile.

✧.* If you’re especially known for being Alastors wife then people will absolutely steer clear of you. Actually, a week into dating he probably already sent a message to people who even thought of messing with you. Yeah, it doesn’t happen often anymore.

✧.* He also likes it when you cook for him. It reminds him of his childhood and probably makes him happy. 

✧.* He will DEFINITELY join it and help you cook because my boy loves that quality time!

✧.* Maybe you and him happen to be disliking the same demon and decide to kill them together. Literally power couple shit right there, taking turns beating the shit out of some disrespectful bitch. 

✧.* Probably kissing whilst that’s happening too to be honest.

a/n: OMG IM NOT VERY PROUD OF THIS TBH!! I swear usually i’m better at writing but i literally just don’t like Alastor very much? I don’t know he just doesn’t do it for… well anyways bc of that it might be a little out of character.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #fluff #x reader

[ultralightpoe]

Hits Different - Tangerine

Hits Different - Tangerine

Authors Note : Heya! I am so glad I finally got all the songs filled and am so ready for the event!

MIDNIGHTS EVENT HERE

Word Count: 3433

Warnings: none I think

Enjoy!

I washed my hands of us at the club

You made a mess of me

I pictured you with other girls in love

Then threw up on the street

Like waiting for a bus that never shows

You just start walkin' on

They say that if it's right, you know

Each bar plays our song

Nothing has ever felt so wrong

Nothing really registered properly at the moment, the only thing you knew was your palms were digging into the grass below you as your best friend cursed behind you, holding your hair back as you puked in the shitty college town park you had stumbled into. 

If this had been a normal outing the roles would have reversed and it would have been you holding her own hair back with a sober attitude she wouldn’t be able to recognize, too wasted to know that you were fuming, but for once in your terribly long friendship it had been you that took far too many shots. This time it had been you that had to be dragged away from some random guy with a wedding ring tan. 

Tan…..oh Tan.

Just at the memory of the nickname you feel the need to vomit again, tears stinging your eyes as your best friend giggles behind you, obviously not concerned for the mental breakdown you were currently having. 

“Do you think he has a new girlfriend?” You slur out, knees wobbly as she helps you up, leaning down to snatch the weapons off your feet so you can walk across the grass with her. She leads you to a public hose, or at least she hopes it’s public as she turns it on. 

“Definitely babe.”

“I don’t get it! This never happens to me!” By this you mean being left behind. 

It was no secret amongst your friend group that you were a flight risk when it came to relationships, always leaving before you got attached but just late enough that your significant other had already said the three words. You had never said the three words back….ever…..well until him.

“Just forget him babe,” She sighs out, grabbing your hands gently. “You keep waiting for him to call, and it’s been three weeks. He’s not calling back.”

“But I told him I loved him.” You hiccup, flinching as the cold hits your hands. 

She doesn’t respond and in your drunken stupor you can’t help but feel like a massive burden, so you shake your head with tears and whine out “I’ll stop talking about him, I swear.”

“It hurts right now, I know that. But soon enough you are gonna wash your hands clean of the whole thing.” She smiles, and you think about that for a moment before nodding and scrubbing your own hands under the water. 

From tonight on you won’t get Tangerine the satisfaction. 

You are washing yourself clean of him entirely.

But little did you know the entire time you were washing your hands you were humming yours and tans song, the whole reason you began to have the mental breakdown at the bar in the first place. Your best friend doesn’t point it out, she owes you that much. 

How many times had you wiped her mascara and bought her ice cream after being dumped? This was an easy act to return.

Oh my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different

It hits different 'cause it's you

('Cause it's you)

You were proud to say that you weren’t the one that brought him up during the weekly sunday brunch three days later, only to be immediately shamed by the way you head snapped at attention when your friend said his name. 

“Any news?”

Your best friend shakes her head from beside you, pouring more bottomless mimosas for you as you try to muster up an answer, really just anything to explain what had happened there but the truth was you had no clue yourself. 

“No, and honestly I have been running through all our last conversations to figure out what went wrong, was I too clingy? Did I scare him off?” You explain, watching all the girls lean forward in their seats. “And it’s so weird because I said I love you and he said it back. I don’t know-”

“I think you just panicked because of our teasing.” You best friend lies, batting her eyelashes at you. 

“Yeah! Girl I don’t think you really loved him, you were probably just in overdrive to prove us wrong. You are so lucky he left when he did.”

“He probably has a wife.”

“With kids.”

“That live in a nice suburban home-” You rush away from the table, sick of all the images they were giving you. They were obviously looking for reasons for you to feel better but none of it was helping because you knew you loved him.

He had been your first l word. 

And it had been wasted. 

I used to switch out these Kens, I'd just ghost

Rip the Band-Aid off and skip town like an asshole outlaw

Freedom felt like summer then on the coast

Now the sun burns my heart and the sand hurts my feelings

And I never don't cry (no, I never don't cry) at the bar

Yeah, my sadness is contagious (my sadness is contagious)

I slur your name 'til someone puts me in a car

I stopped receiving invitations

A year ago you had been covered in a sweet scented sun balm, topless at the beach and tanning under the nice heat of the day as whatever lover you had at the time ran to get you both something to drink. You were holding your sunglasses in one hand and a book in the other, facedown on the poolside chair when two feet emerged in your vision. Two feet that you had not recognized. 

You had picked your head up slowly, blinking to clear the sunspots in your vision as the stranger came into view, brown hair tousled and gold chain glinting in the light. There was a pinkish tint to his shoulders and chest, and he smirks as you trace your eyes over his figure. 

“Can I help you?” You keep your voice sultry, eyelashes batting up at him as a slow smile spreads across his face. 

“I was hoping you’d be so lovely and share some of that sunblock with me,” His accent is thick as he squats down to be at the same level as you, eyes filled with something close to adoration that has your heart spiraling. “As you can see love, I’m burnin away here.”

“I do apologize for that, the sun can be quite the enemy…” You smile, reaching down to grab it, moving to hand it to him. His eyebrows shoot up and he feigns a look of shock for a moment before one of fake hurt.

“You can’t expect me to do it, lovey. You see I can’t reach my own fucking back…”

“How dare I!” You gasp, playing along and trying not to laugh. 

“Yeah, how fucking dare ya.” His toothy grin pulls a matching smile from you and he turns slowly to let you rub the balm onto his back, and you cast nervous glances around for the date that had brought you to the resort. 

“Don’t worry about him right now, yeah love? Your Kenny doll won’t mind us having some fun.” If you knew his secrets you’d have known that Tangerine had handled the man in the restroom, scaring him off so he could make a move. But you would never be allowed to see any of that. 

Oh my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different

It hits different 'cause it's you

('Cause it's you)

“What was that fucks name again?” Tan laughed, reaching to pinch your ass as you pass him to grab the popcorn for your movie night. 

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Mmmhmm, my lil’ fucking heartbreaker.” He grunts out, pressing his body against yours and kissing at your neck drawing a giggle from you. 

“We’re never gonna watch the movie if you can’t control yourself, and you were the one that begged for this movie night rather than a night-”

“I know I know.” He sighs, allowing himself one more kiss before moving to the living room to set up. It takes you a couple more minutes to grab the tray of snacks, and when you finally shuffle out to the living room you find a huge fort made out of pillows and blankets with your boyfriend nowhere in sight.

“Tan?” You call, setting the tray down and leaning to check in the fort for him only to find it empty. The lights of the tv are your only source of light so you don’t see the figure behind you until it’s too late and he snatches you by the waist and spins you around in the air. 

A laugh pulls from you as he yells out a battle cry and throws you both into the fort where all the pillows were laid out. 

After a couple minutes of laughter you catch your breath and play with his hair as he leans over your outstretched body, his own pressed against yours and his fingers trailing love touches up your side as he stares at you. 

“I love you, you know that?” You blurt, watching a smile crack across his face. 

“I love you too.”

You ended up never watching the movie, choosing to stay in the fort and admire each others bodies in a way you had never done before, panting and moaning under the faint blue light the tv sent through the sheets of the fort. 

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat

Cursed the space that I needed

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense

Why the wound is still bleedin'

You were the one that I loved

Don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough

A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes

Except you woke up alone in the fort, covered in blankets that you did not remember grabbing, and the tv had been turned off. 

He must have been late for work and you simply overslept, it was a rational answer you gave yourself because normally Tan would wake you up before he left. Or maybe there had been an emergency with his baby brother. 

There were many reasons he could be gone so you simply sent him a good morning text and moved on with your day, telling yourself you would take the fort down later. 

But then the goodmorning text turned into a question about dinner that had gone unanswered, and late at night you sat at the dining table with pizza shoved in your face as you anxiously messaged him asking if he was okay. 

You imagined all the men that you had used for trips and money laughing at you right now, a heavy sense of irony and then you shook your head and reminded yourself that it’s only been a day, this wasn’t a ghosting situation…..

Except it had been, and by the second week you had sent him so many messages that you were sure he finally blocked you when the messages started ready ‘not delivered’. 

An embarrassed sob had clawed up your throat at that, furiously wiping your eyes and chugging the glass of wine you had poured before moving to pick up the fort. 

If anyone had been confused by the sobbing girl in the laundry room of the apartments at 2 am they never said it and you were slightly thankful for that as you washed the sheets from the fort. 

It was time to move on, you were better than this.

You ghosted people, not the other way around. 

This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy

Dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief

In the good in the world, you once believed in me

And I felt you and I held you for a while

Bet I could still melt your world

Argumentative, antithetical dream girl

You hadn’t realized that getting dumped was this hard to get over though. Sure you had cheered your friends up from it but you had never felt it yourself, this was a different world to you. You cried when you threw the photos away, and you cried when you packed up anything he left in a box to donate to goodwill. 

He plagued your every waking thought, the image of his eyes and the sound of his voice filling your thoughts whenever you allowed yourself to relax so you spent most your time cleaning or working to distract yourself. 

A little over a year with him, and this is what it came to? 

Your best friend tried convincing you to be angry which led to you puking in a clubbing dress in the middle of a park. And the girls brunch had left you just a little more miserable when the conversation had turned to the engagement party of one of your close friends, and by the time you crawled home you ended up in a ball on the carpet of the living room floor, closing your eyes for a quick nap to shut the world out for a bit. 

You didn’t need him, fuck you had traveled the world before him, you could just go back to that. 

I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway

Is that your key in the door?

Is it okay? Is it you?

Or have they come to take me away?

To take me away

Going back to dating after a year of a relationship had been rocky, and your first date back had led to you cheering up your date as he talked about his own ex, and by the time you packed him into an uber that night you felt a bit better about yourself. You weren’t over your ex, but so what? No one else was either?

And any anxiety you had about dating had gone out the window at that, because you had realized you had the perfect weapon in your hands. 

So you cracked out your best and sexiest dresses and by week 12 of no contact with Tan you began spending your nights putting on the performance of your life.

You would sniffle, and you would bat your eyelashes as you talked about how heartbroken you were, the men would be hooked at the sad doe eyes and you would spend the meal talking about how nice and kind they were, then when the check came you would put the nail in the coffin with the tiny tears on how they were so much better than your ex. 

But they weren’t, they were free meals and free wine that you enjoyed toying with. Because no one had ever pulled your heartstrings the way Tan had, and no one had been able to break your heart the way he had. You were sure you would never give anyone else the chance. 

So you followed your own routine after that, when the man of the night would lead you to the sidewalk and call an uber thinking he was about to get laid, you would start crying and then crying would turn to blubbering as you talked about how amazing they were. 

Nothing scared a guy off faster than clinginess, this you knew well. 

They are always scared off at the blubbering mess of sobs, putting you in an uber and paying for your ride home, desperate for you to stop crying. 

There had been one uber driver that had picked you up 3 times, and always laughed when you stopped crying the second the poor fool was out of sight. You shared your gum with her and she promised to mention you in a novel she was writing, you told her to make you iconic. 

And then you would be dropped off, where you would sit, slightly tipsy, in your very lonely apartment. 

Some nights you would trick yourself into thinking you heard Tans key in the door…. You never did and the pitch of excitement you got always ended in a pained feeling so you began to listen to headphones rather than silence. 

Oh my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

It hits different (it hits different)

It hits different this time

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different (it hits different)

It hits different 'cause it's you

Your date tonight had chosen a really good restaurant tonight, and not only that he had actually been pretty funny. So when you left the restaurant stuffed and laughing you nearly forgot your performance, but he seemed like he didn’t expect anything as he kissed your cheek to call you a ride, telling him to call you when you crawled in before shutting the door softly and you felt a small smile spread across your face. 

“That one seemed sweet.” Niama comments, watching you through the rearview mirror of the uber. You smile even more and pull out the dessert you ordered. 

“I got this for ya.” You hand it to her and she laughs. 

“And if it hadn’t been me?”

“I would have gone home and eaten it myself. It was a win win idea.”

When she drops you off that night she gives you her number and tells you that she demands an amazing interview for her book, and as you walk up the steps to your apartment you are left with a giddy feeling from a good night. 

Maybe that’s why you didn’t notice it at first. Too busy laughing to yourself to notice the familiar smell of mint on the doorstep, or the fact that your door was unlocked. 

But the second you enter it’s clear something is off.

The lights are on, and you know for a fact that you had turned them off before you left. The kitchen was cleaner then you left it and the smell of mint filled your lungs. 

Everything was right and yet it was so so wrong. 

You find yourself frozen in the doorway, one hand clenching the doorknob as the other tightens into a fist at the center of your jacket, doing your best to wake yourself up from whatever dream this was. 

“Y/n?” He calls, the same familiar accent that had talked you to sleep nearly every night for a year. And then he is there, limping harshly as he comes around the corner. 

His entire face is covered in blisters and bruises, a cast on his left arm.

He watches you in the doorway, and you blink back at him struggling to find something to say….anything, a single word would be fine. 

“H…..Hey lovey.”

Oh, my, love is a lie

Shit my friends say to get me by

'Cause it's you

Catastrophic blues

Movin' on was always easy for me to do

It hits different (yeah)

Hits different 'cause it's you

His normal cockiness was gone, and you can see the fear in his eyes in an instant, as he looks you up and down. 

“You……look stunning.”

“You look like hell.”

He nods, taking his unbroken hand up to wipe his tears before he clears his throat and stands straighter. “I think it’s time to explain.”

You nod, moving to shut the door and you stand there just a second more before flinging across the room where he stood, careful of his injuries when you pull him into a bone crushing hug. 

He groans in pain and you pull yourself back quickly but his unbroken hand is fisted in the back of your coat to keep you close as he catches his breath. 

“Sorry love,” He grunts, pressing his forehead to yours. “I got shot.”

“IthoughtIscaredyouawayand- I’m sorry…. You got shot?” A small smile spreads across his face as he watches you. 

“You think you scared me away by sayin’ I love ya?” He chuckles, his hand sliding up your side until it’s woven in your hair. “Cause I’m worried about what I’m about to tell ya will scare you off.”

Don't forget to request a character and a song from the album Sour by Olivia Rodrigo for the next event!

And check out the midnights masterlist at the top of this post for more taylor swift fun!

#tangerine bullet train smut #tangerine x reader #tangerine angst #tangerine smut #tangerine x y/n #tangerine #lemon and tangerine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train smut #bullet train #taylor swift #taylor swift midnights #midnights album #aaron taylor johnson

[saythenametotheworld]

Maybe If

Genre: exes baggage; angst; smut

Pairing: Mark Lee x Female Reader

Warning: angst, mentions of physical and emotional abuse, mentions of alcoholism, explicit sexual content (18+)

Notes: 21k words, song prompt was Maybe If by BIBI

Synopsis: An unprompted college reunion for a friend's wedding had you looking back on the most beautiful relationship you ever had with the most breathtaking boy you've ever known—Mark Lee.

"He'll be there for sure." You've lost count of the number of times Nadine said that today. "Will you be fine?" Even the question about your well-being has been engraved in your mind for days now because she's asked about it each time she remembers Mark Lee being present at your friend's wedding.

"You know, Nadine, it almost sounds like you're the one who dated Mark Lee," Stan commented, giving her a quick glance at the backseat. "Shut up about it already. I'm sure she knows Mark will be there."

"I'm just worried about her. I know it's been a while but what happened between them was intense, seeing how they chose to cut contacts completely instead of being friends. What if they end up fighting?"

"Mark won't fight y/n," Stan chuckled, glancing at you. "He never fights y/n."

You kept your eyes outside the car window, counting the minutes before you arrived at your hometown. You're not thinking about Mark Lee-not even about the messy state you left him in. You were thinking about the town you grew up in; everything you hated and loved about it, everyone you grew up knowing, and everyone you dreaded seeing. It was the one place you wished you never had to go back to, the one place that gave you so much to love and even more to hate.

When you left for better opportunities in a different place, you vowed you would never come back. There's nothing for you to go back to anyway, just a miserable old city where you lived a miserable life trying to deal with a miserable old couple. They even told you to never come back after draining you dry of the money that you spent half of your life saving. You have no fond memory of your aunt and uncle. Even the mere mention of their names angers you. The living condition wasn't any better, if anything, you worked your ass off to feed the people who stole from you. You hated it there and you hate it till now.

The one good thing about the place was your relationships outside the house. Reminiscing about your friends should make you smile, but even that became something to hate after you left and never came back.

"Welcome home, guys!" Stan cheered as you entered the downtown area of the small city.

Nothing much has changed, except for a few old establishments you used to work at which now bore different names. The road was definitely better. Streetlights and traffic signs were updated. The trees that once lined the sidewalk are now gone. But overall, the vibe still feels the same and you still haven't changed your mind about not coming back here. If it wasn't for Dianne asking you to be one of her bridesmaids, you wouldn't even consider taking a peek.

"We'll see you tomorrow, okay?" said Nadine, hugging you before you got out of the car.

You'll be staying at the bride's house for the rest of the week to help with the preparations. She said she'll burn every motel in town if you ever so much as consider staying in one instead of accepting her offer to accommodate you. You figured she wouldn't be able to do it for real but the way she was so passionate about it made you say 'yes' to crashing at her place.

"Y/n! My dearest!" Dianne greeted as soon as she opened the door of her house. You hugged by the doorstep, squeezing the soul out of each other until someone told you to take your dramatic reunion back inside the house.

"Congratulations, Dianne. I'm happy for you and also, thank you for having me as one of your bridesmaids," you told her while you sat around the living room with a few other girls that you were introduced to as her entourage.

"Of course, you have to be my bridesmaid. You and I go way back and did you forget that it was you who set me up with my fiancée?"

You chuckled, nodding as you were reminded of the blind date project that you worked so hard to carry out just so Dianne could have her dinner date with the handsome bookshop owner that she had a crush on. It's been six years since then but they're still together. You chatted for a while, discussing the few remaining things that still need to be done for the wedding. When the doorbell rang, Dianne excused herself to welcome her other guests. You were talking to Amanda, Dianne's little sister so you weren't paying attention to the door. Dianne approached you as soon as the guest came in and spoke in a serious tone.

"I hope you don't mind that Mark is here," she said quietly, glancing briefly at the group of men who just arrived. "He's one of Owen's groomsmen."

"No, not at all!" you replied, waving your hands briskly. "It's fine. It's your wedding. Don't worry about me."

"Are you sure? I mean, I know the breakup was awful but it means a lot to me and Owen to have both of you here with us."

You gave her an assuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "I know. It's okay, really. This whole thing is about you and Owen. You don't have to worry about us."

"Y/N!" Owen called when he spotted you. You felt a little nervous, knowing your presence had been announced to the whole house and Mark now knows you're here too.

"Owen! Hi!" you greeted, masking your jitters with a jovial attitude. "How are you?"

"I've been great. I'm getting hitched!" he cheered, showing you the ring on Dianne's finger. "How are you? Thanks for coming. We really appreciate it."

"I'm fine. Thanks for having me."

There was sudden laughter by the doorway so the three of you glanced that way. You saw Mark for the first time in five years and he looked different. He aged up a little but he looks even more handsome now. His hair was shorter than what you remember and you figured he found a new style like you did, switching the delicate youthful vibe for a more mature style. Other than that, a girl is clinging to his arm that you don't recognize.

Dianne pulled you aside, far from anyone's earshot. "That's Tris, Owen's cousin. She's one of my bridesmaids."

"Yeah, we don't like her."

"Mandy!" Dianne scolded but Amanda just raised an eyebrow.

"What? It's true."

"They're not dating and she's just here for the wedding but I think she likes Mark. They've been hanging out ever since she got here a few days ago."

You laughed softly, holding her arm. "Thanks, Di, but I don't need to know what Mark's been up to. I'm sure he took good care of himself."

"Right. Sorry. I just had to tell you in case you assume he's dating her."

"Mark won't," Amanda smirked, giving Tris the side eye.

"You don't even know Mark that well."

"Yeah, but he's a nice guy. Guys like Mark don't date skanky spoiled brats."

"Mandy! Don't call people names!"

"Whatever, I don't like her."

You watched Amanda leave the room and escape upstairs, slightly amazed at how much she's grown. When you first met her, she was just twelve years old but she was already chatty. Now she's grown and resembled Dianne a lot but their attitudes are complete opposites. Mark's eyes fluttered over to your direction and he was quick to catch your gaze before you could even look away. He gave you a quick scan before returning to whatever they were talking about on their side of the room. You weren't expecting Mark to go all nice and chatty with you the moment you met again, but you hoped he'd be more civil than this. You were ready to do just that, so why is he being hostile?

Why else? You broke his heart dumbass.

You just shook your head and proceeded to join Amanda upstairs. She was nice enough to show you to your room and showed you around the house too so you could familiarize yourself while you were here. You never had to go back down for the rest of the day after Dianne told you to rest. It was past noon when you arrived and she was adamant that you take a break. You didn’t try to argue because you were pretty jetlagged.

In the morning, you went to a boutique for dress-fitting. The other bridesmaids were here before you so you were the only one left to get your measurements and have the dress adjusted. It was a nice velvety dress with a tiny strap that hugged your body’s figure most exquisitely. Dianne said it was Nadine’s input and everyone agreed that it looked elegant with the right amount of sexy.

“And skin,” Nadine added, running her fingers from your collarbone to your shoulder. She pointed to the slit that goes right up your mid-thigh. “And thigh too.”

“Yeah. I can see the thought process in this,” you ridiculed, although you did like the dress. You just had to point out Nadine’s inclination to revealing clothes.

You had brunch while catching up on a lot of things. You talked mostly about the wedding and how the whole proposal happened. After that, you had a few hours to yourself before Owen and the others came to pick you up for the rehearsals. You were excited to see Timmy again and to find out that he is the wedding planner for this.

“World-class event organizer, coming through,” he posed before strutting right in front of you. You just giggled, enjoying his little display.

“You’re a local event organizer, Timmy,” Stan teased when he approached your circle to stand next to you.

“The best there is!” Timmy insisted. “And it’s only for now.”

Rehearsals for the entourage began and you were visibly shocked when you were paired up with Mark. He seemed impassive about it at first but you saw just how much this affects it too the moment you started walking the aisle together. He wouldn’t let you hold him and you were fine with that but Timmy was frustrated.

“Come on, Mark. It’s just a walk. It’s forty-five seconds at best!” Timmy pleaded but Mark bristled.

“I don’t want anyone touching me, Timmy. How hard was that?”

“It’s fine, Timmy. I’m sure no one will notice,” you told Timmy who eventually gave up and let Mark have his way.

The practice continued with Mark still a bit apprehensive of you. Now that the arm hold is out of the way, he found another reason to show his disdain, missing the cue. After a few tries, Timmy decided to ignore it and proceeded with the practice.

“Mark is being unreasonable, seriously,” Timmy chided as the three of you were in his car on your way to grab something to eat.

“You can’t blame him. He hates my guts. Now he’s getting paired with me,” you defended and Nadine agreed.

“That much is still considered a display of patience, you know. If it happened to me, I’d freak.”

Timmy sighed. “Honey, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, okay? Dianne and Owen specifically asked for this. I’m just doing what I’m paid to do and what my friends asked of me.”

“And Mark’s not your friend?” Nadine taunted so Timmy shot her a glare.

“He is. But this wedding is not about him. Timmy peered at you in the backseat. “It’s not about the two of you.”

You know that, of course. That’s why you’re trying to be civil with him. He’s the one with the problem and you don’t blame him at all.

The car stopped in front of a diner which you eerily recognized. When you stepped out of the car, Timmy told you this was the diner you used to work at back in college. He said the owner had changed so did the name of the place. But everything inside except the paint was the same. From the interior to the furniture, everything reminded you of the time you used to wait tables and clean this place.

It was no surprise that you’d attend the local college right after high school. You tried to apply to other schools and although you met the grade requirements, your extra-curriculars did not. The university was in the downtown area of the city, several miles from your house. You remember the last time you went downtown; it was when you had just moved in with your aunt and she was still nice to you. She'd take you once a week for food or ice cream. But she stopped that a long time ago and you barely remembered what it looked like. For the last two years, you were back and forth from your house to your school; a public high school in the east side of the city. The downtown area may be unfamiliar to you but that didn't stop you from landing a job at a diner close to your local university. You went there for your first day of work and the manager greeted you happily. After a quick rundown of your tasks and the things you need to do, you begin immediately.

It was past 2am when a group of friends came into the diner. There were barely any customers except for a middle-aged guy drinking beer by the counter and watching late-night news. Tina, your coworker, was mopping the floor when the group arrived and one of the guys accidentally kicked the bucket, spilling water all over the floor.

"Shit, sorry!" he muttered, picking up the bucket and looking down at the mess he made with panic in his eyes.

"Damn it, Mark. Watch where you're going!"

That was the first time you met Mark. You were alerted by the commotion and peered over the counter to see what was going on. You saw him fumble with his apologies to your coworker who ended up telling him that it was her fault for putting the bucket right by the door.

Tina rounded back to the kitchen to grab something for the spilled mess. "This is not the meet-cute way I was expecting to meet Mark Lee."

"Mark Lee?" you repeated, glancing at her as she opened the cabinet of cleaning materials.

"The guy who spilled my bucket," she pouted, fake sobbing before going back

outside. “I had a crush on him in high school.”

You hadn't meant to but there was nothing else to do while you were wiping glasses dry so you observed his group. They came from a party, judging by the way some of them were groggy and others looked high. Mark wasn't. He seemed completely sober and less sweaty, laughing along with his friends. They ordered and since you were on dishwashing duty, you never had to interact with them.

You had four hours of sleep before the first day of university. Since you qualified for the scholarship, you were given a dorm and a 75% discount on your tuition. The conditions were pretty demanding, but it should be easy for you to meet. You were smart and finished high school at the top of your batch, so you were confident you'd keep the scholarship until you graduated. Even if you can't, you have to because struggling to keep your grades high is so much easier than going back to your aunt's house.

"Can I help you?" a senior approached you as you were looking around the busy school grounds. There won't be any actual class today since it's the first day. Clubs and student groups have set up booths for new students and transferees to sign up with them. There will also be a mini-concert later tonight and you found that out because of the huge banners they hung at the entrance about it.

"No, I'm good, thanks," you refused, giving him a small smile.

"Aren't you y/n?"

"Yes. How did you know me?"

He smiled and shook your hands. "I'm Spencer, the student body president. You aced the scholarship exam, everybody who cares about it knows who you are."

"Oh," you muttered, pulling your hands back when he wouldn't stop shaking them. Spencer seemed genuinely ecstatic about meeting you. He also seemed like the overly passionate, overachieving type of student.

"Sorry," he grinned. "Oh, if you're interested, would you like to sign up for the freshman representative elections?"

"Thanks, but I'll have to pass. I'm sure you'll find other suitable candidates." You turned to leave but he blocked your way.

"That's too bad, but if you change your mind, the student council office is right next to the Arts and Sciences building."

"Sure. I'll remember that. Excuse me," you walked past him in a hurry so he wouldn't block you again. As you did, a guy bumped into you so hard that you fell on your butt on the ground.

"Y/n!" Spencer helped you up. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, thanks," you muttered, patting your butt as you looked down at the other guy who bumped into you. He was on the ground too, struggling to get up and you assumed he had quite a fall.

"Mark!" one guy came running to help him. "Seriously, dude? Do you ever watch where you're going?"

Mark scoffed at him in disbelief. "How do you even know it was my fault?"

The other guy helped him up while you watched in recognition of the man. Mark Lee--the one Tina has a crush on.

"Because you're you, dumbass," the other guy chided. Mark looked at you, tilting his head and scratching his nape shyly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you. I was running away from someone," he explained before clenching his fist and showing it to the guy who helped him up. "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

"You guys need to watch where you're going!" Spencer went on to scold them while you took this chance to escape through the crowds.

You found yourself in the arts and sciences building, walking down the halls to find your classes. There won't be any today, but you just want to memorize the classrooms so you don't waste time looking for them tomorrow.

"Hey! I didn't catch your name," said someone who stopped you from walking by holding your elbow. You looked down at his hand on your skin so he let it go. "Sorry. I'm Mark, by the way."

"I don't see why this is necessary," you told him. You didn't mean to be unfriendly or anything. You really do think introductions were unnecessary between the two of you. The collision was an accident and you're pretty sure you won't be making friends with him while you're here. You are you, and Mark, well seemed to be on a completely different wavelength so there's no need to befriend him.

"Well, if I'm gonna be seeing you around, I think this is necessary," he smarted, smiling with his eyes focused on your face, not even blinking.

You told him your name, deciding once and for all that refusing is a waste of time. If you give him what he wants, he'll leave you alone.

"Nice to meet you," he offered his hand for a shake and you took it, shaking it once.

"Well then," you said before walking away.

"See you in class!" He called out but you never looked back.

You never thought about Mark again for the rest of the day. But he appeared at your workplace after midnight, peering over you at the counter.

"Can I help you?"

"What time do you get off work?" he asked straightforwardly, not even wasting time on small talk.

"None of your business. What can I get you?"

"There's a party at school. Why are you here?"

"Again, sir, it's none of your business. Is there anything you want to eat?"

"Can I pick you up after your shift?"

You exhaled sharply, looking around to see if anyone can substitute for you at the counter. Everyone's doing their thing so you have to deal with Mark by yourself.

"What are you doing in my workplace?"

Mark grinned, pleased to finally get something out of you. "Stalking you."

You raised an eyebrow at him so he laughed.

"No, not really. I'm not stalking you. I'm a regular here."

Your eyebrow remained raised along with the crossing of your arms.

He swallowed. "Can–can I get a cola with that burger?" he said, his voice breaking and he pointed at the menu on the wall.

You punched in his order on the register. "That will be 4.60."

Mark was persistent and patient. You came to know that after he continuously pursued you despite your indifference. He consistently went to your workplace. Sometimes he'd try his luck with a little flirting. Most times he'd just be there, quietly eating his food and taking too long to leave. At one point in the middle of the semester, he started studying there too. Another thing that worked in his favor was your classes. You're both Arts students, and you're both majoring in Arts History so you see him in most of your classes. He always shared your notes and asked you about assignments and stuff. He also tried to pair up with you each time you were given group work.

You mostly just went with the flow. You stopped getting bothered by it when you realized that your snide attitude wouldn't push him away. The attention you gave him was limited to what was required of you by your schoolwork. And you ignored his flirting and his random invitations for a date or coffee, even if he reduced the venue to the university food court. The one factor of his endless chase that you least expected was his friends.

"Yo, it's Mark's muse!" said Stan as soon as she walked into the diner.

Your ears twitched after being called that so you emphasized your name. "Welcome to our diner! My name is Y/n. What can I get for you?"

"Oh, so that's your name? It's cute, it suits you. I'm Stan." Stan beamed. He looked like a typical jock so you were expecting him to act like one but he seemed genuinely glad to know you.

"Yeah, I wonder why Mark always kept it to himself like some obsessed psycho," said the girl he was with. She smiled at you and offered her hand. "My name is Nadine. Nice to meet you, Y/n."

"Hi," you greeted timidly, returning her smile.

"Mark's crazy for you and I can see why," said the third guy whose every move, tone, and clothing tell you he's queer. "I'm Timmy. Not Tim, Timmy."

You found yourself surrounded by Mark and his circle of friends. They were nice and it surprised you because they looked like the typical rich kids from the west side of the city; snotty, bratty, and mean for no reason. But they were actually a good company that balances academics and social life perfectly. They are popular and smart and you felt a little bad for having prejudices against them. Although you liked to keep to yourself, you didn't discourage their presence. You let them join you at the food court when you're alone. You let them drag you to school events and even let them add you to their noisy group chatroom. It never occurred to you at the time that you were making friends, something you never saw yourself doing. You felt so accepted and free with them. And it was safe to say your feelings started growing towards Mark the moment his friends came into the picture because that was when you got to know him properly.

"Mark! Come on, man! You're just gonna walk down the aisle. Why do you keep messing up?" Timmy scolded for the nth time today.

"Sorry."

"What's wrong?" Dianne peered from outside the church.

"Mark keeps missing the timing," Amanda reported.

"Sorry, Di. Let's try again, Tims. I'll get it right this time."

"No. This time, y/n will hold you and you won't complain." Timmy linked your arms together and told everyone to go back out. It was the second day of rehearsals but Mark was still keeping the attitude. You were getting annoyed by it, but you chose not to intervene in case he lashed out at you. Not that you’d hate for that to happen, in fact, that would be better than making everyone walk on eggshells around the two of you.

On Timmy’s cue, the music started playing again. You huffed beside Mark, frustrated by the amount of time you had to go back from the top and hyper-aware of your linked arms.

"Stop it," you chided in a low voice.

Mark glared at you, but he kept his voice low. "Stop what?"

"Stop messing up! Why do you keep doing that?" you hissed and he scoffed.

"Because you're annoying, that's why," he spat, giving you a quick head-to-foot scan.

"Mark! In 3!" Spencer shouted and you both diverted your attention to him. You were dumbfounded but you didn't miss the cue and you both walked in together.

The practice ended after another hour and you all gathered back to Dianne's house for dinner. While everyone was busy with conversations, you couldn't help but notice the way Mark was glaring at you from across the table. He's not even hiding it anymore. At first, he just refused to interact with you but now he's downright showing everyone his disdain for you.

"Y/n!" Timmy cheered, walking to your seat to wrap his arms around you. "It's been so long, how have you been?"

"Yeah! You look great! Tell us what you've been up to in the last few years."

You chuckled timidly, embarrassed because of the sudden shower of attention. "I'm well, thanks. I’m a professor."

"She's an Art professor at NYU," Stan added.

"Really? Didn't you move to New York for NYU?"

"Yeah. I got lucky."

You glanced over at Mark who now have his eyes somewhere else.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"What?" you blurted, surprised by the shift of topic.

"Boyfriend?"

You eyed Mark and found him still looking uninterested. "Well, I..."

"No, she's not. She hasn't dated anyone since she left the city."

Timmy scoffed at Stan. "Are you here as her representative? Why are you answering for her?"

"Because she's shy! And was I wrong, y/n? Didn't you say you haven't dated anyone since you and Mark—"

Stan was cut off when Nadine shoved a piece of bread in his mouth. "You're so skinny. You should eat some more!"

You saw Mark stand up and walk away, leaving the entire table in an awkward silence. Stan finally removed the bread from his mouth.

"Was that my fault?"

Everyone glared at him so he just flattened his lips and did a zipping gesture over his mouth.

It was Christmas when you started dating Mark. He took you to see a Christmas movie downtown but it was so boring so you just kept making funny remarks about it. You had been giggling and goofing around so much that you got kicked out of the cinema. You're not sorry though, it was an awful movie. But then you left your beanie inside the cinema and you tried to get it back only for the security guard to kick you out and threaten to call the cops on you.

"Ah, have I given you my Christmas gift yet?" Mark asked as he fitted his beanie on your head.

"You got me a Christmas gift?"

"Of course. That's the point of Christmas."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I'm pretty sure it's Jesus' birthday."

"Maybe, but if you look further into history, you'll find that yuletide traditions were already around even before Jesus' time."

"Okay, smartass," you scoffed, tucking your hands in your jacket.

"You didn't know that? You would know that if you paid attention in class, y/n!"

You punched his chest. "Shut up. Don't use my lines on me."

Mark laughed, rubbing the part of his chest that you hit. "So, I have a gift."

"Okay, where is it?"

"Promise me you'll accept it?"

You flattened your lips. Mark has a tendency to go over the top with things and you're starting to worry that he might have bought you an expensive gift.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"On whether you spent hundreds on it."

Mark's eyes lit up. "Just 3 dollars and 42 hours."

Your brows creased. "Did you make me a Christmas sweater?"

"Yes. The ugliest one ever," he grinned before taking out a small box from the pocket of his jacket.

You found a diner to stop in and order food. Since it was Christmas, they gave you free eggnogs and candy canes.

"What are you waiting for? Open it!"

"Is it for me or for you?" you jeered.

"For you."

"Then I'll open it when I want to."

Mark whined. "Please open it? I want to see you open it."

You rolled your eyes at him as you were sipping on your drink. "Fine."

Taking the gift out, you carefully tore open the wrapping and opened the box next. You first thought it wasn't really a sweater since the box was too small, but you were surprised that it was in fact, a knitted sweater. A miniature one dangling on a keyring chain. It has a crooked letter M on the shirt that makes you grin.

"Did you make this?"

"I know it's ugly, but I made it with love. I even have mine here." He showed you his car keys which the sweater keyring is now holding. That sweater has your initial on it.

"But why is mine M?"

"M for Mark," he replied without missing a beat. You grimaced so he laughed. "You already accepted it. No backsies."

You shrugged and took out your own set of keys from your purse. You placed it on the table and fished your phone then started attaching the keyring in your phone case.

"Those are for the keys!"

"It's mine, I do what I want with it."

"Why your phone though?"

You smile after you're done with the task and let it dangle from your phone. "So that everyone will see it and ask why I have an ugly sweater as a phone accessory."

Mark laughed at that and you watched him for a while, taking in his features; the pretty curve of his eyes, his arched eyebrows, his supple skin, and the way his adorable set of teeth showed when he smiled. You stared and realized that he was the most breathtaking man you had ever met. Not because he's the most handsome or the most good-looking, but rather because he's the one person in this place that made you see the sliver of beauty that it possessed. He made you see that this place is not completely miserable. He made you realize that love can bloom even in a place where you never imagined it could survive.

"And when they do ask me that," you added after a while, making Mark pause to listen. "I'll tell them my boyfriend made it for me."

You saw how Mark's face went from goofy to surprised to delighted in a matter of seconds. He stood up from his seat across you and swiftly pulled you up for a hug. You hugged him back because you realized you were right all along, Mark doesn't only look warm, he is warm. His embrace, his breath, and the way he makes your heart feel. Mark is the warmth that you yearned for in your cold miserable world.

"Are you my girlfriend?"

"Yes."

"If I kiss you, will that be okay?"

"Yes."

And so, Mark did. He scooped your face and you never thought he could get any warmer than he already was but there he was, surprising you again.

"You think Mark's pissed?" Dianne asked worriedly when you saw each other at the breakfast table the next morning. She was asking you but you just shrugged. "He never came back last night," she added, as if you don't already know that.

"I'm sure he's fine. Probably just a little under the weather. I heard he had flu a few days ago and just got better," Amanda concluded but that didn't seem to convince Dianne.

"I'm sorry, y/n. We shouldn't have forced the two of you together. It was mainly my idea and Timmy just agreed because he said the thought behind it was beautiful."

"It's okay," you smiled, squeezing her hand affectionately. "Mark just has his issues right now. You know how he is; he won't let this ruin anything in the slightest."

"I hope so," Dianne sighed. "I'm starting to consider changing things up. I know it's about us but I also don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable during the whole thing."

Amanda tapped on your elbow so you glanced at her. "What did go wrong with you two?"

"Mandy!" Dianne chided but you just smiled at her, telling her it was alright.

Everything was well between you and Mark. He was a great boyfriend, just like you imagined he'd be. He was consistent and patient, and he never failed to show you his affection in plenty of ways.

He would offer to help you study, share his notes with you, and help you when you're struggling with any of your classes. He randomly took you to where there's good food and he also showed you beautiful places around the city. He was patient with you and never forced you into anything without your consent. You were just happy, utterly happy each time you were with him. In exchange, you gave him your time, your affection, and your undivided attention. You encouraged him when he was down and insecure. You encouraged his dreams and showed him that he is capable of doing anything as long as he puts his mind to it. Your relationship was a happy one, catering to each other with utmost care and living in the moment while reminding each other of your love.

Mark was content, you were happy. Your relationship had no problems. The problem was you. While Mark bore his whole entire being for you to see and love, you only shared your best side. You showed him your intelligence, your wit, your beauty, and your kindness. But you never showed him your frustrations, your struggles, your darkness, and your pain. You told him your dreams and aspirations but you never told him the things that motivated these dreams. While Mark showed you the good and the bad, you gave him the good and left it at that.

"Good for you! You finally found your way home!" your aunt said sarcastically when she opened the door for you.

"Are you drunk?" you asked despite not caring at all. You walked past her into your bedroom to take some of the stuff that you'd be needing for school.

"You look good. Is the university treating you well? I heard you earned a scholarship," she asked as she trailed behind you.

You opened your bedroom and saw the messy state it was in. It was clean when you left it but it looks like someone had been living in it.

"Did you go through my stuff?"

"Why would I do that? It's not like you leave anything valuable when you go out," she spat, leaning on the doorway.

You searched through your desk for your files and tucked them safely inside your bag. Then you remembered you needed a few clothing so you went through your closet.

"So how was school? Do they give you a stipend for your scholarship?" she pressed on and you couldn't help huffing when you recognized where the conversation was going.

"They don't. I get a 75% discount on tuition. I still need to pay for the remaining 25," you explained begrudgingly, groaning when you couldn't find the jacket you were looking for. You looked elsewhere and found it on the floor by the hamper. "Have you been wearing my clothes?" you asked but your aunt just shrugged.

"Why would I wear your clothes? They're too big for me."

"That's because you're so thin. I told you to eat properly. But look at you!" you chided, huffing again. "You've been drinking again! It's 9 in the morning! You told your rehab officer that you'd stop!"

Your aunt might have been cruel but she was still your mother's sister. You wanted to hate her to the point of abandoning her, but she looks so much like your mom that you can't even ignore her.

"Stop nagging me and just give me money for food! How will I eat when I have nothing for food?" she hollered back at you.

You decided to ignore her and put your dirty clothes back into the hamper. That was when you saw a few pieces of used condoms right by the basket.

"Gross. What's this?"

"Oh, that's not mine. It's Greg's."

You scowled. "Who's Greg?"

"The one renting your room."

Your jaw dropped. "You rented out my room?"

"You didn't come home and the room was vacant. We needed money because you haven't given us any for the past few months."

"Damn it, Auntie!" you complained, stomping on the floor.

You hurriedly grabbed your other stuff and found a bag to stash them in. Everything important, you stuffed in your luggage and brought it out of the room.

"Where are you going with all that?"

"I'm going back to the dorms. I'll be living there until I finish college anyway."

You dragged it all the way outside the house. Taking your purse out, you gave your aunt a few 20s and told her to stop drinking and buy some decent food. She didn't even thank you and proceeded to tell you that they had no running water because it had been cut off.

"Tell your asshole husband to work! I'm not your piggy bank!"

"What did you say about me?"

You spun when you heard your uncle's voice from behind you. He looked drunk already but he was carrying a bag of alcohol.

"You bitch, what were you saying about me?" he repeated, walking closer so you were face to face with him.

You glared at him, not even scared of his taunting. "I said you're an assho—"

You were cut off by a sudden pain in your shoulder, making you fall onto the ground. You didn't notice the empty bottle he was holding in his right hand that he used to hit you.

"You have the nerve to talk like that after I let you live in my house! You ungrateful bitch!" He raised his hand to hit you again but you kicked his shin. You stood up quickly and hit him with your purse. You hit his head and then his back and again and again until he was on the ground. Your aunt rushed to him so you stopped, kicking the bag of alcohol bottles and spitting on it before you walked away with your stuff. You are never going back there.

For years, he verbally and physically abused you, hitting you when you couldn't give him money and hitting you again when you talked back to him. You will never stop talking back to him, you have the right to do so after they bled you dry of your parents' money. They even went through your college fund and didn't leave a single penny for you. And when you started working, they continued to milk you for the money you earned through your hard work. You were the only one keeping that house running but each time you tried to make things work, they go back to their old ways. If it wasn't for you being a minor, you would have left a long time ago. Now you're a legal adult and you won't stand up for it anymore. Once you finish college, you will leave this place and never come back.

"Hi, you're y/n, right?"

You looked up at the pretty lady who approached you outside the library. "Yes. Can I help you?"

She smiled and offered her hand for a shake. "My name is Dianne. I was thinking of offering you a part time job, if you want it."

"What makes you think I need it?" Your response was a little harsh but Dianne understood that it may have sounded like she was looking down at your financial status.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. The library is hiring new junior librarians this semester. It's exclusive to scholars and it has a grade requirement. I was thinking of offering you a spot."

"Oh, I heard about it," you told her, warming up a little.

"Yeah. You see, no one applied yet. A handful did but they did not meet the grade requirement. It's a school foundation effort so having good grades is really important because you'll be getting paid for the job."

"I'll try it out."

"Great. You can apply inside," she said,

guiding you into the library.

You filled out a form and Dianne asked you to wait while they check your grades. The waiting didn't take long and she told you you got the job. You had no class left for the day and you have exactly five hours before your shift at the diner starts so you got started right away on a 4-hour library duty.

The work wasn't hard. You will need to sort books, handle returns, do an inventory every few weeks, and update the portal for every new book. So far it was only you and Dianne on the junior librarian team because as she mentioned, no one else applied for it. Dianne was a senior Linguistics student and she seemed nice.

"I've been a librarian since I was a freshman. My friends have been calling me one too. Sometimes they joke that I smell like books."

You chuckled quietly. She was chatting you up while she was showing you the stock room. That was when your phone started ringing.

"Who is it?" she asked inquisitively.

"My boyfriend," you replied, eyeing his name on the screen.

"Hmmh, good for you that you have a boyfriend. I think this library is the reason why I don't have one," she sighed, leaving you alone to answer the call.

You told Mark where you were and he said he'd be there soon so you finished up with the library work. When you came out, you found Mark in the lounge and he waved at you. This wasn't new because you always hung out with him at the library. But seeing your librarian vest made him laugh quietly. You told him to behave while you do your job. You've been tasked to put the returned books back on their shelves and Mark helped you push the cart.

"You're a librarian now?" he teased while you were looking for a specific shelf.

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because I am. It's my dream," you joked and he laughed so you shushed him.

"Sorry. How did this happen?"

"They were hiring junior librarians."

"And you signed up because your dream was to be one?"

"Yes. And I get paid to do it," you chimed.

"Sounds like a good deal,” he chuckled heartily, knowing you didn’t mean it.

You were halfway through the tall stack of books and didn't notice that you'd gone further into the back part of the library until Mark pulled you aside.

"Why? What's wrong?" you asked, thinking he was running from something. Mark looked around and peeked outside the corner you were hiding in before he smiled at you. You sighed upon realizing that he was trying to be alone with you. "Really? In the library?"

Mark shrugged. "Why? I'm sure we're not the only ones doing it."

"Yes, but right now, I'm a librarian. I should be discouraging this rather than doing it myself."

"Two minutes?" he pleaded.

"Mark," you threatened.

"One?"

"We have time later," you insisted but he pouted.

"Thirty seconds?" was his last bargain.

You huffed before you pulled the collar of his shirt and kissed him. He kissed you right back, holding your waist firmly and even closing his eyes. You might have done it begrudgingly, but you gotta admit how great it was to be kissing Mark. Still, you kept count of the time he bargained for, and right as he was starting to feel up your ass, you pushed him back.

"Your thirty seconds is up."

"Aw," he whined but you were already leaving the nook. He grabbed your shoulder and you winced in pain because he gripped the exact spot where your uncle had hit you. "Oh, shit, sorry! What happened?"

He was quick to push the sleeve of your shirt up and you couldn't even stop him. The bruise was dark and purple and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sight of it.

"What the hell happened?" he hollered so you covered his mouth and shushed him, looking around the library for anyone you disturbed. You were at the farthest corner though so no one saw you.

"Just some accident at work," you lied through gritted teeth. "Be quiet!"

"You're so clumsy!" he chided softly, kissing the spot tenderly.

"Really? Coming from you?"

The next day, you arrived at the library and were welcomed by Mark Lee, the new junior librarian.

"No way. You're not a scholar. You don't even need the salary," you chided, grimacing at him.

"Well, his grades were good and they're consistent. The scholarship part was a big deal but since were short-staffed, the Head Librarian just agreed to take him in," Dianne explained. "Anyway, I already showed you how to sort these right? Get started on it. Mark, be a dear and help your girlfriend. Take these to the stock room."

You looked down the box of newly purchased books for the library and then to Mark who was smiling when he picked them up and loaded them one by one on the cart.

"Also, don't hook up there. I mean, no one will find out that you did but don't do it! It's unsanitary." Dianne teased so you shushed her.

"Dianne! Gross!"

She was giggling when you left for the stock room. Mark was walking snuggly close to you so you took a step away. But then he came close again so you just let him do it until you reached the stock room.

"Dianne is very nice," he commented while he opened the boxes.

"Yeah, and she's very pretty too."

"I can see that," Mark agreed.

"Right? That's why I was wondering why she's single."

"She's single?"

"She is. She says it's because she's a boring librarian, but I'm pretty sure I noticed a few guys checking her out yesterday. They're even pretending to read."

Mark chuckled. "I think it's because she's pretty intimidating."

"Pretty and intimidating, " you corrected and you both laughed.

"I know someone who likes her. And I was thinking of setting them up. Remember Owen? From the bookshop downtown."

"Yeah, he seems nice."

"What do you think?"

You shook your head, placing the books you've finished counting on a separate box, and then you walked towards Mark. "I think we shouldn't meddle with other people's business."

"I agree," he replied, lips curving into a smile when you didn't stop coming closer. You gave him a coy smile as you placed a hand on his abdomen, firmly pressing on the muscles beneath his shirt. Mark's breathing hitched but he steadied it again. "And I agree with that. Keep going. I will keep agreeing," he declared, nodding his head encouragingly.

You grabbed the tape dispenser from behind him and immediately moved back to your seat in front of the table.

"What will you keep agreeing on, Mark Lee?" you asked innocently as you pulled the tape out to close the box of books.

"Hey, no fair!"

You just laughed when he went behind you and hugged your sitting figure. He even stomped his feet in a tantrum.

"What? You're so naughty. We're literally in school."

He lifted his head from your neck and looked sideways at you. "How about when we're outside school?"

"I don't know. What do you mean by that question anyway?"

"Babe!" he whined again and you just laughed. "Stop teasing me! You're so mean!"

After putting the books in the records, you spent a few more minutes in the stock room making out with Mark to appease him. He didn't ask for anything much, content with what you were willing to give him. He was even grinning like a fool when you left the stock room.

The library became a special place for you and Mark, working together and goofing around. It was tiring sometimes but Mark was there and everything seemed to go well whenever he was around. That was what Mark has become in your life, someone you can lean on who doesn't attempt to pry for anything you're not willing to share. You know it was because he was oblivious to your inner demons, but you were glad to have a part of you that is not influenced by your pain. Sure, you realized somewhere along the way that you became an entirely different person when you're with Mark, but he doesn't know that and you decided to let it stay that way.

"Wow!" you all exclaimed when you arrived at the beach that was more than familiar to you. It had been decorated with a podium, a stage, and the surrounding structures. The only things missing are the flowers and the drapes which will be installed on the wedding day to avoid getting ruined.

"Look at this place!" You exclaimed. "It looks so much better now!"

The beach used to be nothing but a vacant space, with palm trees, wildflowers, and washed-over branches. Apparently, Owen bought it a year ago when the nearby hotel threatened to develop it into an extension of their building. He beautified it and built a beach house where they usually stayed during get-togethers. The beach remains open to the public, except this week for their wedding.

"Hey, isn't this your dating place?" Stan asked you and received a spank on the head courtesy of Timmy. "Ow! Hey!"

"Why would you bring that up?"

"I was just asking because I missed her," Stan defended and you just shook your head before following the girls into the house.

"What do you think?" Owen asked when you entered the house. You couldn't say anything other than gape at the wooden but modernized utilities around the house. It was spacious and you understood why Owen called it The Friends House because it really was big enough to house a large group of friends.

"It's beautiful, Owen. I don't know what to say."

"Yeah, you would have seen it before if you hadn't continuously bailed out on our invitations," Owen sulked, pouting at you. Dianne elbowed him and he groaned. "But you're here now! Welcome to the Friends House!"

"Thanks," you chimed. "It's great what you've done to the place."

"This place means a lot to Dianne and me, and it meant a lot to our crazy little squad so, other than the fact that it would be awful to tear the beach down, I also didn't want to lose its sentimental value."

You were about to say something when Mark arrived, making all heads turn to him.

"What?" he asked after a few seconds of awkward silence.

"Mark! You came back!" Stan cried dramatically, running to Mark for a hug.

The others laughed while Dianne called you girls to assign rooms. You shared your room with Nadine and you didn't care enough to ask how the boys assigned theirs. You then went out with the girls for a spa and shopping treatment downtown. She called it her last day of freedom and later tonight, the bridal shower that you prepared with the bridesmaids will take place in the beach house. Dianne called dibs on it because your party was indoors. As for the boys, you had no idea what they were up to.

"So that beach," Tris began while the five of you were getting your nails done. "I heard Mark discovered it?"

"Mark and y/n," Nadine corrected.

"Yeah, Mark," Tris repeated, turning to Nadine. "How exactly did he find such a beautiful place?"

You saw how Nadine grinned devilishly. "By taking y/n on romantic dates around the city."

Tris frowned at her and leaned back on her seat with a ‘hmph’.

Mark liked driving around the city. In the first few months of your relationship, you thought you'd seen everything there is to see but he surprised you again by taking you to the coast. You knew there's a coastline here but you've never been there before. It was lined by resorts and hotels but in a secluded spot westward is a hidden gem that he proudly boasted to you like he's the one who discovered it. Of course, it's been there ever since but it was too far to be considered a go-to place for anyone who wants to go to the beach. It was untouched and beautiful and you did plenty of picnics there, watching the sunset together.

He took you there to celebrate anything. He took you there when you needed comfort or when he needed a break. He took you there for no reason, especially when you both want to go out but can't think of a specific place to go. Most days, you would stay until after the sun has completely set, tangled in each other in a liplock. It was your own little secret until it wasn't anymore.

"I'm hungry," Mark complained, lying on your lap under the shade.

You snorted. "We literally just ate everything in our basket."

"Yeah, but I'm still hungry. I don't know why," he replied, sitting up and looking around. "Should we try fishing?"

"You'll need a boat for that and a fishing line."

"Foraging? Seashells wash up here all the time."

"You'll need to cook it."

"There is some seafood you can eat raw," he insisted and you shrugged.

"Yeah, but I think you'll need at least some salt or something."

He looked at you and stared for a while, his eyes moving from your lips to your eyes and back again.

"What?" you asked when he didn't say anything.

"I know what I want to eat," he said seriously, moving towards you.

You scoffed and met him halfway, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. "There. Satisfied?"

"No," he replied, still inching closer so you leaned back. "It was a bit bland, chef. I think I need to taste it again."

You giggled still leaning back. When you couldn't hold yourself up anymore, you held onto his neck, but that caused you to accidentally pull him close and fall on your back down the picnic mat. He moved painfully slow towards your lips and kissed you equally as slowly. When he wouldn't kiss you properly, you realized he was teasing you so you bit his lip.

"Ow!" he muttered, laughing at your annoyed expression. "What? I was trying to taste it properly."

You pulled him by the collar and kissed him. Mark stopped playing around then, kissing you properly in the same delirious way you liked it to be. He bit your lip, prompting you to open your mouth and when you did, his tongue slid expertly inside. Four months of dating had you become an expert in kissing each other.

He has memorized your lips, your pattern, and your timings. He kissed you like he studied how to and you have no complaints because the last time you kissed someone has long been lost from your memory. Mark was the best and only kiss you've ever known.

"Mark," you breathed when you parted for a moment. He didn't reply and just dived in to kiss you again. It seemed like he wouldn't be listening to you, focusing too much on your lips, so you gathered your strength to sit up. He fell off on you and looked at you worriedly because of your sudden movement.

"Sorry, was that too much?"

"No." You pushed his chest so he was lying down and straddled his hips. Mark looked up at you in surprise.

"Y/n..." he muttered, hands falling on your waist.

"You're not listening to me," you complained before kissing him.

Mark was dragged into the vice of your lips again, one hand firmly holding your back while the other rested on your waist. Lust has begun to overcome you, grinding ever so slightly on his hard-on. That made Mark pull away and stare at you.

"What are you doing?"

You buried your face on his chest, too shy to show him how horny he has made you in the last few minutes.

"Babe, you don't have to if you don't want to," he whispered, kissing your head and patting your back.

"I want to," you mumbled but he didn't seem to hear. You lifted your head and looked straight into his eyes. "I want to, Mark. I want you."

Mark claimed your lips then and you were back to making out. His hand that once sat innocently on your waist has slid under your sundress, caressing and squeezing your inner thigh. His kisses left your lips to travel the length of your neck, sucking and kissing the supple skin. He sat up to better access your chest, pulling down the sleeves of your dress to reveal your bosoms.

"Oh, baby, look at you," he blurted as he took a good look at your chest before burying his face between them and taking a huge sniff of your skin. "You're so beautiful."

"Mark," you called out, pulling his head away before dragging your bra down. Mark wasted no time and sucked on your nipple, massaging the other one. The moan that escaped your mouth was euphoric, making you grind on his erection even faster. He kept switching between your boobs, all the while encouraging you to keep grinding by helping you move your waist.

"Oh my gosh," you screamed out, feeling your pussy clench with pleasure. Mark flipped you over, taking his shirt off before kissing your lips. When he pulled away, he gave you a smirk that almost made you gasp. Mark had always been handsome but right now, he looked so sexy to you and you knew it was the lust in your head that's making you say so.

He lifted your dress up to your waist and panic overcame you, making you close your legs. Mark just gave you an encouraging smile and squeezed your knee.

"It's okay. We can stop here today," he said softly.

"No, it's not that." You looked away, embarrassed to say the next words. "I've never done this before."

Mark appeared clueless for a second. "Sorry, what?"

You huffed and pushed yourself in a sitting position and wrapped your knees in your arms. "Nevermind. Let's just go if you're not interested."

Mark just laughed and pulled you into a hug. "Hey, that's not what I mean. Come on." He laid you back down, kissing you softly before looking into your eyes. "Are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yeah."

"It might hurt."

"Yeah, it's okay."

"Really?"

"Yes, Mark! Are we gonna do this or not?"

Mark chuckled, kissing your forehead. "We are. I'm just checking to be sure."

"Fine." You were frowning but you just can't wait for Mark to pick up where you left off. You made out some more, building the heat back up from where it was abruptly halted. Mark began by touching your pussy, feeling up your wetness, and massaging it over your underwear. He pulled away from the kiss and caressed your cheek.

"Alright. Don't worry, okay? I got you," he said, leaving your side to position between your legs. He stripped you off your underwear and looked down at your pussy, then back at you with a smirk. But just as he was about to go down on you, you heard faint laughter from a distance that made you sit up instantly.

"Did you hear that?" you asked and Mark shushed you so he could listen properly.

"Mark?!" called a loud voice from far away. You gasped, taking your underwear and slipping it back on.

"Mark Lee?!" the voice called again, nearer this time.

"Shit, it's Stan!" Mark blurted and you immediately tossed his shirt back to him.

Mark wore it and stood in complete panic so you made him sit next to you on the mat and you both watched the yellow sky like nothing happened.

"Mark?" Stan called, his head peeking through the bushes. "Ah, there they are. I told you Mark is here!"

You glanced back at them, feigning indifference. Mark was even able to act annoyed.

"Yo, guys, what are you doing here?" he asked as Nadine and Timmy followed right behind Stan. "How did you find this place?"

"We were driving around when we saw your car on the side of the road," Timmy explained, looking around. "This place is beautiful. What is this place?"

"Mark found it," you replied, looking at Mark.

"Wow, and you've been keeping this from us? Like, really?" Nadine accused while looking around in amazement as well. "This place is literally paradise."

"It's an undeveloped part of the beachline, Nad. Don't be dramatic," Timmy chuckled. "But you're right. A few tweaks, some flowers and fruit trees, and this place will be paradise."

"Food!" Stan exclaimed, running to the basket you had with you. You just laughed knowing there's nothing in there.

Nadine was the first to call it Friends Beach, mainly because she was obsessed with Friends at the time but also because you didn't know what to call it when you made plans to go there. You cleaned the beach all the time, making sure no one would trash it and Timmy even went on to bring fruit trees and orchids that he attached to the huge tree at the center of the area. You kept it to yourselves, declaring it a private space just for friends. But your friend group soon welcomed two more people in it after a successful blind date mission.

"Mark! Guess what?!" you exclaimed at Mark when he visited you at the diner one day.

"What?"

"You said Owen likes Dianne?"

"Yeah. He said the pretty senior at the university library. Why?"

"How did they meet?"

Mark leaned on the table and thought for a while. "I'm not sure but he said he first saw her when she was delivering books to the library a few months ago. Why?"

You gasped. "Oh my god, I knew it. Listen, Dianne said she met this really nice guy a few months ago and fell in love with him but she heard he has a wife, so she reduced it to a crush. But she always passed by his bookshop every day to see him."

"Bookshop? You mean she likes Owen too?"

"Yes. Other than old man Luciano, the only one with a bookshop downtown is Owen."

Mark was also shocked by your revelation. "But wait, did she say he has a wife?"

"Yes."

"Owen doesn't have a wife."

"Oh, so why did she say that?"

"I don't know. But he's single, for sure. I know because we're close. Although he does hook up sometimes, he's very single."

You nodded at this and gave Mark a big grin. "You know how I said we shouldn't meddle with other people's business?"

"Yeah."

"I take that back. Let's set them up!"

And so, you spent a week planning an elaborate blind date for Owen and Dianne with the help of your other friends. By the weekend, you went home feeling proud that the date took place and then you braced yourselves for the results. Setting it up was the easy part, the hard part was whether they'd click or not. And that's also the part you can't do anything about.

"How was it?" Mark secretly asked when you saw each other at the library on Monday after the weekend date.

"I don't know. I just got here too. I haven't seen her yet."

"Mark, y/n?"

You both jolted when you heard Dianne speak behind you. She sounded stern and looked even more so when you saw her face. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was tapping her foot on the floor impatiently.

"Dianne! Hi!" Mark greeted jovially, laughing awkwardly right after.

"I know what you guys did," she said without missing a beat and you felt your heart sink. Mark almost knelt on the floor if you hadn't stopped him.

"Dianne, I'm sorry. It was my idea," you blurted but she remained unfazed so you swallowed.

"THANK YOU!" She cheered loudly before hugging the two of you, even shaking your arms in excitement.

"Silence in the library!" The head librarian shouted and the three of you ducked and then ran to the nearest bookshelf to hide.

Dianne and Owen became a constant in your friend group in no time. You hung out often and even turned Owen's bookshop into a mini café where he'd make coffee for you each time you went there. Dianne was definitely older than you and your friends so she mostly acted like the mom of the group, scolding those who were skipping study time and giving out study materials during exams week. Owen just bought you food each time one of you complains of hunger. Your bond grew closer through time until you left and decided to never come back.

You used to belong with these people, a friend and a special part of their lives. Maybe you still are right now, but in your heart, you know you don't deserve to be at the receiving end of their love anymore. You used to love this group, but now you hate them. Not the kind of hate that makes you want to punch them in the face or cut them off, but the kind that makes you hate yourself. Simply put, you hate them because you hate yourself. Why? Mark. He was the reason you became friends with them and after doing such an awful thing to him, you felt undeserving of this whole squad. If anything, you wish they'd hate you but Mark would never let that happen. Whatever happened between you, it seems like he kept it to himself. Because if he did tell anyone, you know they'd hate your guts.

"Are you ready Di?" Timmy asked as he pushed a cart with the cake on it. You all wanted to laugh looking at the dick-shaped fondant adorning the cake, but you stopped yourselves.

The Friends’ House is now filled with girls involved in Dianne's wedding, friends, relatives, and other ladies who were invited to the Bridal Shower.

"Welcome to your last night of maidenhood!" Timmy announced, and Amanda lifted the blindfold off of Dianne's head on cue. You all started cheering when she grabbed the dick cake and bit off its head. Some cameras were filming her as she did this. The party went on with loud music blasting from speakers, champagne showers, lots of dancing, and more alcohol.

By 11pm, the house was reduced into a crowded mess of drunken women, wet with both sweat and champagne and lying down on whatever solid space they could find.

"We're old," Dianne muttered while you lay on the wooden floor with her and the others. "We can't even last until midnight. That's just another hour from now."

You giggled; head clouded with alcohol. You had just started coming down from the high of the party and the sugar rush of sweet pastries.

"No, you're old. I'm just partying with the wrong crowd," Nadine corrected, rolling on her side so she could hug you. "I wonder what the boys are up to."

"Probably falling asleep like we are," Dianne laughed. "Drunk and wasted at 11pm."

"You guys are wasted. Not me," you snorted as you forced yourself to stand up, squinting so your eyes would focus on the figure you were seeing at the doorway. You recognized Mark and immediately perked up.

"Oh, it's my Mark," you grinned, standing up groggily to go to him. You staggered a few times, but you regained your balance, telling no one that you were okay. "No, seriously guys. I'm okay!"

"Oh god, what is she doing?" Nadine asked, watching you walk towards the man and wrap your arms around his neck.

"You're a handsome young man," you told him, losing your balance on your high heels but he caught your arm and you just giggled. "Sorry. You look like this guy I used to know."

"Get your shit together, y/n," he chided through gritted teeth.

"Sounds like something he'd say if he sees me like this," you replied, giggling.

"You're drunk. Go get some rest."

You straightened up but you didn't take your arms off of him. "Oh, I'm not drunk but they are!" You pointed to the others and started laughing at them.

Nadine groaned and lay back down. "Ugh, she's gonna regret this."

"Can I kiss you?"

Mark was taken aback but he just frowned slightly. "Why would you do that? Do you know me?"

"You're Mark Lee," you giggled and then scowled. "Or are you? I think you are."

"Why would you kiss me if you know I'm Mark Lee?"

You looked away for a second to think. "I don't know." You glanced back at him and let go of his neck. "You know what, you're right. I can't just kiss you because you look like Mark."

You were about to walk away but he pulled you back to his chest. "I didn't say you can't."

Your whole face lit up, eyebrows rising when you said, "I can?"

"Why don't you try and see?"

You giggled as you wrapped your arms back around his neck and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Mark stayed still, holding your waist firmly because you weren't standing properly on your heels. You pulled away after a few seconds of just pressing your lips on his. The grin on your face was satisfied but also drunk.

"Now what?"

You shook your head. "My Mark is a better kisser," you said before burying your face in his chest and taking a deep breath.

You stayed like that for a few seconds before a stomping sound was heard on the wooden floors and someone pulled you by the shoulder.

"Hmm?" you inquired before a slap landed on your face. Mark quickly wrapped you in his embrace, shielding you from a drunk and angered Tris.

"Slut!" she hissed before attempting to attack you again but Mark pulled you away from her. He shot Tris a cold glare before dragging you out of the house.

The men outside were still drinking in front of the bonfire when Mark carried you out. Owen called him but he was rushing you out of anyone's eyes and ears. Your hands fell limply on your side while Mark was carrying you, the other was stroking your stinging cheek.

"You okay?" he asked with a grunt, heaving you up. You were a little heavier than he expected.

You smiled brightly, eyes half-lidded as sleepiness started to get to you. "Yes! My cheek kind of hurts though."

"Yeah, someone slapped you."

"I know, silly. I saw it," you laughed and Mark sighed in exasperation, stopping for a while to glare at you.

"Stop smiling. That wasn't funny at all."

You shook your head and then pointed to him. "I know. What's funny is you. You have two heads." You started laughing, throwing your head back and kicking your legs and Mark almost lost his balance.

"For fuck's sake, y/n." He knelt and dropped you on the sand, making you land on your butt. You complained, rubbing your ass slowly over your satin dress.

"You're mean," you muttered, laying your head on the nearby rock before closing your eyes. "I hate you."

"You do? Good because I hate you too."

You didn't hear that anymore because you drifted to sleep quickly, your breath steadying. Mark tsked, pocketing his hands as he looked down at you on the sand.

"Get up. Go sleep in your room." But you didn't move and it was stupid to tell you to sleep in your room because he already brought you far from the house, far from everyone; here in the cove that you both know so well. The cove that became your own personal hideout. "Come on."

Mark knelt on the sand and picked you up, patting away the sand on your skin and hair. Then he took off his jacket and placed it on the ground. He laid you there and let your head rest on his lap while he rested his back on the big boulder behind him. He stayed like that, convinced you'd wake up soon enough and you could walk back to the house by yourself.

And you did. You woke up with a mild headache and a stiff neck. It was dark and the only light was coming from Mark's phone's flashlight. You sat up and saw Mark sleeping with his back on the rock. You were confused for a second but memories started flooding back to you, making you shake your head in shame. You stood up, picking up his jacket to cover him with it. Then you started to slowly sneak away.

"Where are you going?" he called, making you stop dead in your tracks.

"Nowhere," you replied, sitting right next to him in an instant. "I was just looking around."

"Good. Don't leave," he ordered with his eyes still closed before leaning his head on your shoulder.

You looked around you and recognized the cove you used to hide in after the beach became Friends Beach. It was a bit further into the sparse woods but it was difficult to find. You remembered stumbling upon this area by accident and it has since become your hideout. It wasn't even an actual cove, just a small open space hidden behind tall trees. The lower part of the cliff had been weathered and continuously struck by the waves, making it look like a small cave. Mark has tried to go there before only to find shallow solid rock curvature, no actual cave.

The first time you had sex with Mark was by this cove. He had been trying his luck with fishing but he never caught a single one so he was sulking on the mat. You comforted him by saying you'd buy him sushi but one thing led to another and you were suddenly making out. Mark had been gentle with you, prepping you for himself and making sure you were comfortable. He kept comforting you the whole time, asking if you were fine and if he should stop. And even when you finally got over the painful part, he maintained his gentleness while keeping you satisfied. Ever since that day, sex with Mark became your favorite thing.

Your rendezvous were mostly innocent, by the cove, at his house, and in a hotel. He tried several times to sneak into your dorm but the security was too tight. That was around the same time you started going to parties with them and more often than not, you'd end up having sex in his car after too much alcohol and dancing. Mark was good with anything and he was especially good with sex.

"Why are we here on a weekend?" you asked as you entered Mark's house.

"Because we don't have anything fun to do," he replied, holding your hand as you climbed the stairs.

Mark's house is huge, situated in the suburban area of the city. His family is wealthy, as you've observed but you only met his mother a handful of times because they are never around much. The moment you found out that he was rich, you started to feel small about yourself. He lives in an entirely different world while you struggle to make ends meet. Your love for him was the only thing keeping you from leaving.

"What about fishing? Have you given up on it?"

Mark shrugged. "I can practice next time. For now, I want to lounge around and just do nothing with you."

You rolled your eyes as you stepped into his room. "There is no way you're just doing nothing with me, Mark."

He grinned as he closed the door, then stepped towards you to kiss you. "I'm glad you know that."

You scoffed before he kissed you, pulling you close so your bodies were touching. Mark guided you to the bed, your lips still locked together. But as soon as he sat you down, someone started knocking on his door. You both pulled away and he whined as he went to open his door.

"Mom," he asked, a bit surprised. "I thought you were leaving today."

"We had to come back for something," she replied, peering into the room where you sat on his bed. She smiled at you so you returned it. "Why don't you help your Dad find some files in the study? It's very important and he's saying he put them on the top shelves. None of us can reach it."

"Sure." He turned to you and smiled. "I'll be right back."

When Mark left, his mother came into the room and sat next to you on the edge of the bed.

"How are you, y/n? Is Mark treating you well?"

"I'm fine, Ma'am. Mark is very kind to me."

"Good. As he should," she chimed, reaching for your hand and holding it in her lap. "Anything planned after college?"

"A few things, but nothing is set yet. I'm still trying to figure things out," you replied politely.

She nodded at that and then sighed. "I want the best for my son, y/n. And I want him to be happy more than anything else. If you can bring out the best in him while also making him happy, I will be grateful to you until the day I die."

You smiled at her, squeezing her hand as a form of gratitude for her entrusting Mark to you. "I'll try my best, ma'am."

"Thank you." She chuckled heartily. "I may be absent now that he's grown, but I spent most of my life raising that boy. I'm sure he won't ever hurt you. Mark never hurts those he loves."

His mother was right. Mark never hurts those he loves. But you weren't Mark. You're cursed to hurt those you love and ruin them beyond repair.

“Congratulations, Dianne!” Nadine sobbed, hugging Dianne on her seat in front of the mirror.

Dianne just laughed, stroking Nadine's arms affectionately. “Thanks, but I'm not even married yet.”

“You might as well be. You look so ready to walk that aisle already.”

You sighed as you stepped out of the bathroom in your bridesmaid dress. “Oh god, Nadine. She just put makeup on. What would you do when she's in her wedding dress already?”

“I would literally drop dead,” Nadine claimed, carefully wiping her tears so she didn't smudge her makeup.

Dianne shook her head as she walked to the dress with the hired stylist. “No, don't drop dead. We're already one bridesmaid short. We can't afford to lose another one on the day of the wedding.”

“One bridesmaid short? Why what happened? Who's missing?” you questioned and everyone in the room looked at you in confusion. You saw that the only one missing was Tris and was about to ask when Amanda explained.

“We kicked the bitch out.”

“Why?”

Dianne scowled at you. “What do you mean why? Don't you remember getting slapped last night or did that take a toll on your memory?”

“Tris slapped me?”

“You don't remember? Did also forget clinging to your ex and calling him your Mark?”

You flattened your lips together in shame. “I remember that bit.” You were actually so preoccupied with Mark that you don't remember anything else from last night except him.

“Good. Tris attacked you because of that.” Nadine was seething. One moment she was crying about Dianne, now she's so angry that her brows are knitted. “She's lucky it didn't leave a bruise because I'd bury her alive.”

“So, she won't be here today?”

“No. Not ever. She already caused too much trouble with her picky attitude during the wedding preparations. She's not even related to me in any way other than the fact that she's Owen's cousin. I won't tolerate her trampling on the people I care about,” Dianne ranted while she was being dressed.

Nadine comforted her. “Forget her, Di. Don't let some wannabe socialite ruin your mood on your big day.”

Dianne took a deep breath and calmed down. “Thanks, Nad. Oh, by the way, where did Mark take you last night? I don't remember you coming back here.”

“Just someplace near here. We fell asleep and woke up at around 3. That's when I came back.”

“Did you hook up with him?” Amanda asked in surprise so you denied it.

“No! God no. We really just slept. I was drunk and it seems like he was too. Mark would never hook up with me, Mandy.”

“How would we know that when you won't even spare us the details of your breakup.”

You huffed and finished fixing your hair. “This is your wedding day, Dianne. Let's not ruin it with useless accounts of the past.”

“She's right. Let's live in the now.” Nadine started sobbing again when Dianne was done dressing up. “Dianne! I'm so happy for you!”

The sky was clear when you stepped out of the House. Three white cars were waiting for you and you each got into your assigned vehicle, wishing Dianne good luck before heading to the church. The entourage was waiting. The entrance and the ceremony began as soon as Dianne's car rolled in. You found Mark in his place and you rushed over to him, noticing how he offered his arm for you to hold on to as you practiced and even sparing you a small smile before looking ahead. After receiving nothing but a cold shoulder all week, this small gesture of acknowledgment sure made you happy.

“I don't hate you,” he had told you the night before while you two were sitting in the dark by the cove. “I'm just upset, that's all.”

You didn't have a reply to that and you were grateful that he didn't ask for any. It did make things less tense between you. You both were even smiling at everyone as you walked down the aisle together before parting to sit where you were assigned to. The ceremony wasn't slow but it wasn't fast either. As soon as Dianne walked in through the huge church doors, all eyes turned to her and few gasps of amazement were heard. As she drew nearer, you saw Owen wipe a few tears and that made your heart swell with emotions. You realized that even though you believed you hated everyone here, you wouldn't have wanted to miss this important day.

Vows were exchanged and they kissed in front of their loved ones to formally announce their marriage. Pictures were taken too and as soon as you went back to the Friends House, the commissioned photographer had you take a whole hour of pictorial by the beach. You had fun with all of them, the laughter and chatter had you feeling like you got transported back to your college days when you were the happiest.

It was past 9pm when Owen and Dianne left for their honeymoon. The party was swell as they had intended and it didn't end even after they were gone. There aren’t that many people now, just a couple of younger ones who can handle partying until late at night. Stan has turned the entire thing into a frat party and was by the wine table downing the makeshift keg he had set up with a few other guys. The girls were still dancing around to the music but you were getting bored and tired after Nadine slipped away with some guy. Amanda was flirting with someone on the newlywed's chair. You thought about going back to your room but you were assuming that it was where Nadine took her hook up so you decided against it. That was when you decided to go to the cove.

It was dark and it was supposed to be scary out there but you didn't think that at all. You had your phone out, using it as a flashlight as you ventured through the trees. You even took your shoes off when it proved difficult to walk in them on the sand. And as you reached the small open space, you let out a sigh of relief. You were just about to sit in your usual spot when you heard the rustle of leaves behind you which put you on high alert. But then the intruder came out and you saw that it was Mark.

“Mark?”

“Hey,” he greeted nonchalantly, walking past you to sit on the sand by the boulder.

You stood there awkwardly until he noticed you and tapped the space beside him as an invitation for you to sit. “Did you come here to just stand there?”

“Did you follow me here?”

“So, what if I did? The space is not exclusive to you, is it?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes before sitting in the space next to him. When you glanced at him, you caught a whiff of alcohol and frowned.

“Are you drunk?”

“Aren't you? It's a party,” he smarted.

Of course, you're not. You even avoided the sight of alcohol after your embarrassing stint last night.

“You don't seem drunk,” you observed so he glanced at you, your faces were about half a foot in distance.

“That's because I'm not,” he smirked. “I had a few bottles. Not enough to have me clinging on my ex.”

“Mark Lee!” You slapped his knee, frowning at him for reminding you of that. Mark just laughed, content to get a rise out of you.

“Seeing me after five years didn't even affect you one bit but you're getting mad about that?” He smirked. “Good. At least I got a reaction out of you.”

“What?”

He huffed and clenched his jaw, looking away in the direction of the sea. You had long turned off your flashlight but the moon was shining high above so your surroundings were still visible. You can even see the slight changes in Mark's expressions, including the pained look on his face that he tried to hide with a frown.

“I'm sorry,” you mumbled, taking your eyes off his face.

“No, you're not.”

“Really, I am,” you insisted. “I realized a long time ago how messed up that was. I shouldn't have done that to you.”

“A long time ago?” he asked so you nodded without looking at him. “Then why didn't you come back?”

“I couldn't, Mark. Not when I already had enough guts to leave.”

“That wasn't fair, y/n.”

You glanced at him and saw that he had been looking at you the whole time. You were hesitating to continue the conversation and deep in your mind, you were wondering how you both ended up talking about this, only to realize you brought it up first. “I know that, Mark. I just...” You gave up trying to explain and just huffed.

“What? You're not even gonna explain yourself? After all these years you'd still shut me out? Don't I deserve to know how I ended up getting hurt when all I ever did was love you?”

You folded your legs together and buried your face in your palms, the surge of emotions coming onto you like a freight train. The pain and guilt that you buried deep in your memory for years is now screaming right at your face as if instead of dying, it grew roots and branches and leaves.

“Why did you do that?”

Yeah, why did you?

You were huffing as you rushed out of the taxi cab and ran straight in the direction of that hell-hole of a house. As soon as you reached the door, you pounded on it nonstop, demanding your aunt to come out and talk to you. It opened soon after, revealing an intoxicated man.

“What are you doing here, you ungrateful bitch?” your uncle spat but you brushed past him into the living room.

Your aunt was laughing in front of the television, a cigarette in her hand and a few bottles of alcohol on the coffee table.

“Did you do it?”

She didn't even look at you. “Do what? Be specific when you're asking questions.”

“My salary from the diner. Did you cash it out?”

She appeared to think. “Oh, the diner? Yeah. Yes, I did. Just a few months’ worth. We're behind on the water bill you see.” She pointed at the stack of mail on top of the cabinet by the doorway.

You grabbed them and saw several pieces of mail from the water provider. You took a deep breath to calm down but your voice still cracked. “Why would you do that?”

“I told you. We needed money for the water.”

“But that was for my tuition.”

“It's okay, I'll pay you back.”

“Aunt, you never pay me back! You always say you do, but you never ever paid me back!” you hollered at her, now straight-up crying.

Your uncle rounded the living room and hit the back of your head. “Keep your voice down in my house!”

You watched as he sat next to your aunt on the couch and took a bottle of beer. You were still crying and they didn't even seem to care one bit.

“Auntie, please,” you pleaded. “An advance of three months? What else would I be getting from that? I need to pay for school. I need to feed myself too!”

For the first time since you arrived, your aunt looked at you with disdain. “And are we supposed to just live without a water supply? What's gonna happen to us? The house is gonna reek!”

“It already reeks even with running water!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, shaking in anger.

“Why are you screaming so early?” your uncle threw a bottle at you that barely missed your head.

You froze with your eyes widened in shock, horrified that you had almost been hit right in the face. Sadness suddenly left you, leaving a burning rage in your heart. You felt like you would convulse as rage rose to your head. Your eyes were bulging and the sight of them looking unconcerned is making your heart explode. You crumpled the pieces of mail in your hand and lunged at the table to flip it over. You grabbed the baseball bat from its fixture on the wall and started hitting the alcohol bottles, breaking them to pieces while your aunt and uncle screamed in terror and bewilderment at your actions. As soon as you had your fill of violence, you stood up in the middle of the living room, huffing contentedly before dropping the bat.

“Y/n! What are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack!” Your aunt chided and you're now convinced she's too drunk to make sense of what was actually happening.

“You can both drop dead. I don't care.”

You left the house feeling like shit. It reeked so much there that you had to smell yourself to make sure it didn't stick on you. You spat on the ground, disgusted when you think about how you managed to live in that place for a long time. Your eyes were still wet with tears when you noticed the crumpled mail in your hand. You stopped walking to look at it, recognizing the crest of a university you applied to a year ago, at the beginning of your freshman year in college. It was addressed to you and you opened it to read the contents. Your mind focused on the large letters right below the long introductory line and covered your mouth in surprise.

“We are pleased to inform you that your application had been approved!”

You sat on your heels, weeping in utter happiness after what you've just read. You immediately fished out your phone and dialed the number on the letter, afraid to waste another moment, especially after finding out that the letter had been mailed to you over five months ago. You talked to the woman on the phone who seemed delighted to hear from you.

“Yeah, I lost it in my stack of mail because I recently changed my address. I was wondering if the offer still stands?”

“Of course! We only welcome freshmen applicants who passed but for those who received an offer, we are inclined to accept sophomores too.”

You were sure the woman on the other line could hear you crying as you thanked her. She hung up after a polite goodbye and a promise to see you in New York by the start of the fall semester. You wiped your tears and composed yourself as you continued walking. But as soon as you walked out of the house's unkempt picket fence, you saw Mark come out of a corner.

“Babe!” he grinned when he spotted you. “There you are! I was looking for you!”

You felt nervous all of a sudden, wondering why he was there and how he knew you'd be in this part of the city.

“Mark—” You couldn't even finish your speech when the voice of your screaming uncle made you glance back to the house. He was angrily calling your name, waving a baseball bat in the air as he screamed that you're a wicked bitch for making a mess in his house. You grabbed Mark by the hand and pulled him out of there, not stopping until you reached the highway.

“What's going on? Who was that?”

“No one,” you panted, holding onto your knees as you caught your breath. “That's no one.”

“He called you a bitch. What's going on baby? Do you know that man?” He helped you up and lifted your chin so you were looking at him. As soon as he saw your tear-stained face, he pulled you into a tight hug. “Hey? What's wrong? What happened? I'm here, y/n. You can tell me.”

“Nothing, Mark. I'm fine,” you argued, your voice breaking as you tried to pull away from his hug. You hit his arms when he wouldn't let go. “Let me go!”

Mark did as you asked, backing away a few paces to give you space. “Okay. Just tell me what's going on. Is he related to you? Did he hurt you? What are you doing on this side of town? You know there are a lot of thugs around here.”

You took a deep breath and looked right at him. “This is where I live, Mark.”

Mark seemed surprised, but the worry on his face didn't leave as he approached to hold your shoulders again.

“Is that man your dad? Is he hurting you?” He scanned your body for any sign of injury. When he looked at your shoulder, he stopped to gaze into your eyes. “The bruise on your shoulder from before, was that by him?”

“He's not my dad.” You shook his hands off of you. “My parents are dead.”

Mark's mouth hung open. “Why didn't you tell me that?”

You felt upset when he asked that. All of a sudden, you were flooded by the feeling of helplessness and loneliness that you endured ever since your parents passed away when you were 15. You blamed them for leaving you behind and letting your aunt and uncle treat you like shit. You blamed them for leaving you to suffer by yourself. And you blamed them because you were lonely and sad for a long time. Meeting Mark was a good way to forget about the immense sadness. But now, even that has been tainted by the loss of your parents.

“Why? So you'd pity me? So you can keep thinking about it and look at me like how you're doing right now?”

“Babe—”

“Or what? So you can decide if I am qualified to be in your life or not?”

“Baby!” Mark scolded. “I did not say that!”

“Then what is it? Did you want to know so you can see if I can make you happy while bringing out the best in you?” you spat, his mom’s words echoing in your head.

“Hey,” he called lovingly as reached for you again but you dodged. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm done, Mark. It's over.”

Mark sighed and held your hand. “Come on. You're emotional. Let's go get some air. We'll talk after you feel a little better.”

“Where are you taking me, Mark? To your fancy house? To that fancy hotel that you paid for with your dad's money?”

“Baby, please. Don't do this.”

“Or, or are you taking me to that damned cove because I'm so easy and I'd let you fuck me anywhere?”

Mark stopped walking and stared at you dead in the eyes. The look almost made you wake up from your angry stupor but you just scoffed.

“Did I hit a nerve?”

“Y/n, why are you doing this?”

“I'm done, Mark. We're done. So please, leave me alone.”

You walked on the opposite side of the road while Mark chased after you.

“Don't push me away, y/n. Come on! Let's talk about this. You're upset right now. Let's talk when you're a little bit calmer!”

But you paid him no mind and got into the taxi cab that stopped in front of you when you called for it.

Mark never gives up. You know that and you loved that about him. But now that he's not giving up on you, you feel suffocated. He kept blowing your phone so much that you had to block him. He cornered you in your classes that you stopped attending. You even pulled out of the junior librarian job because he was there. It's all good because you're leaving after the semester anyway. You spent the days filling out forms and preparing yourself for New York. Dianne was kind enough to lend you money without asking why and you were able to pay off your advances from the diner before you quit your job there. You promised her you'd pay her but she told you not to worry too much and take your time. Mark had been camping out of the dorms and several times you saw him get kicked out by the dorm lady. You've been cooped up in the building, not leaving to avoid running into him.

You realized after that confrontation with Mark that you were horrible to him. You were mean and cruel and he didn't deserve any of that. You were upset and justifiably so, but Mark shouldn't have been at the receiving end of your rage. Unfortunately, he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. You didn't mean anything you said about him, especially the part where you want to break up. But as you thought about it for days, you realized it was better to break it off with him. You're not planning on coming back here anyway.

Your school announced your departure just before the day you leave. It was great news to be offered a spot in such a prestigious school that your university had to make a big announcement out of it. It was mainly Spencer's idea and the school administration was on board with it. That was how your friends found out that you were leaving. Mark too.

“New York? That's amazing!” Nadine told you while you were at the diner the night before you left.

“I'm friends with a genius. How great is that?” Stan was fake crying as he hugged you. You couldn't help smiling at the support from your friends. But then the bells of the door rang and you turned to see Mark entering the diner.

Stan let go of you and smiled sheepishly. “I hope you don't mind I invited Mark. I mean, I know you broke up and all but hey, he's still your friend, right?”

“You two broke up?” Timmy exclaimed, followed by gasps of surprise from Nadine and Dianne.

“Y/n! Is it true?”

Stan looked surprised. “You guys didn't know? I thought everyone knew.”

“Did Mark tell you that?” Nadine asked.

“Mark?!” your friends turned to him.

“No. I kinda just assumed it. I haven't seen them together for days and y/n haven't hung out with us for a while too so I thought they broke up,” Stan explained.

Dianne started laughing and turned to Owen. “Hey, didn't we have a transaction we need to take care of?”

“Transaction?”

“The books, Owen. For the library. Let's go. We have to take care of it now.” She turned to you and said, “Congratulations, sweetie. Sorry, but we have to go now. Those books are really really important.”

Nadine and Timmy stood up too. “You know what, I think I'll go study for the exams.”

“I thought the exams were over?” Stan questioned and Timmy glowered him knowingly.

“Unlike our smart y/n, I have to retake a few subjects.”

“I'm sleepy as heck,” Nadine added.

You sighed as your friends came up with the lamest excuses to leave but you didn't want to interfere. Maybe it's for the best that you have this final talk with Mark anyway. He deserved that much.

“I guess I'll leave you two alone to talk,”

Stan said, taking his bag and waving goodbye.

Mark sat right next to you, hugging you on your side and burying his face in the crook of your neck. He stayed still like that for a moment and you felt your heart melting into the warmth of his embrace. A part of you is wishing he wouldn't let go and that you can just stay that way forever.

“I love you,” he whispered, just as you started feeling the wetness on your shoulder. Mark's crying. For the first time, you're seeing Mark cry.

You made a move to get him off of you but he tightened his hold.

“Please,” he begged and you swallowed the lump in your throat to stop yourself from crying.

You stayed like that for a while, letting him hug you while you stroke his back affectionately. Eventually, you realized you couldn't stay in that diner all night, so you left and he walked you to your dorm, holding your hand in his tightly, like he was scared to let go. He stopped you from entering the dorm, knowing he wouldn't be allowed inside but you gave him a smile.

“It's okay. The dorm lady said I can bring you inside for my last night on campus.”

It was true. When you surrendered some of the dorm stuff that you needed to return before leaving, the dorm lady congratulated you for making it to NYU. She also told you that you could bring in your heartbroken boyfriend who had been sitting outside the dorm for days now. It will be her way to wish you good luck in New York. Mark saw that it was true when the dorm lady smiled at the two of you by the entrance and warned you not to wake everyone. You were still hand-in-hand even as you entered your now empty dorm room. The only thing intact was the bed and the sheets weren't even yours anymore but the dorm's.

“I'll go wash up. Have a seat,” you told him but he hugged you from behind, refusing to let you out of his sight.

You ended up lying in bed with Mark, looking into each other's eyes as he played with your hair. There was a pain in his eyes that he failed to hide and you were trying not to break down crying in front of him.

“Please tell me this is the reason why you're breaking up with me.”

“No,” you answered truthfully.

“Baby...” he pleaded, forehead creasing as he did. “It's okay. New York is far but we can make it work. I'll come to you from time to time.”

“Mark, it's not that.”

“Then what is it?” he demanded. “I love you, y/n. I loved you so much. I have loved you for an entire year and each day I spent loving you, I saw no reason to stop.”

“I know that. I love you too.”

Mark's face lit up. “You do?”

“I do. More than anything.”

Mark kissed you right then, pulling you into his embrace so you were flush against his body. You kissed him back, realizing at the time just how much you missed him. Your kisses got deeper and noisier, getting into your heads as he rolled over to cage you underneath him. He pulled away for a few seconds, looking into your eyes and seeing nothing but your love for him.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you, Mark.”

And so, your last night in the university, in the city, ended with Mark inside you, raw, steady, sensual, and gentle with the right amount of aggression. Just like how you would remember him to be for the next few years.

“I have to leave, Mark,” you told him outside the airport. He drove you from your city to next where the airport was, holding your hand and humming happily to the song. Mark woke up feeling great today, unaware of the truth that you're keeping from him. You know it was cruel, you know you'd break him to pieces, but your selfishness won't let you leave without seeing him for the last time. Even in your final few seconds here, you wanted to be with Mark.

“I know. But you'll come back. I can wait,” he chimed, kissing the back of your hand. You were in his car, parked outside the airport and he had been showering you with his love and innocent little kisses the whole time.

“No,” you croaked, eyes stinging when tears threatened to fall from them. “I'm not coming back.”

Mark frowned, chuckling. “What do you mean? Why not?”

“There's nothing for me to come back to,” you confessed, swallowing your tears to put on the cruel persona that you've prepared.

“Baby, I'm here. What do you mean there's nothing to come back to?”

You just shook your head and he stared at you for a while to see if you were lying. You didn't back down.

“Not even me?” he finally asked so you looked away, one hand ready to open the door on your side.

“Not even you.”

When your plane left that day, you also left everything behind. Your friends, your past, the things that you don't need, and the ones that you need. You left the one you needed the most, the boy you loved and never stopped loving until now, the most beautiful boy you've ever known. Your Mark Lee.

“I loved you, you know. I was down from the start, even when you haven’t told me anything about you,” Mark began, eyes shifting back to the sea. “I would have loved you for whoever you are. I showed you who I am. All of it, even the ones that I considered were bad, you loved me for them. I would have done the same.”

“That's easy for you to say, Mark.”

“And I would have proven it!” he roared, glowering at you for a moment before looking away again. “You didn't give me the chance, y/n.”

“I'm sorry. I was scared.”

“I understand that. But I welcomed you into my life. I made you an important part of my world,” he paused and looked at you with a mixture of hatred and pain on his face. “You made me a fantasy you dive into when you want to escape your misery, y/n. I understand why you'd do that, but you shut me out when all I ever did was love you, support you, and be there for you! None of it would have mattered. I would've supported you when you left! I would’ve gone to you once you decide to never come back I would've fought those assholes for you!”

“I didn't need you to do that, Mark. I just needed you to be you. I wouldn't have asked for any of that.”

“Fine. I get it,” he grunted. “You didn't trust me enough to share your struggles with me. But if I had known about it, if I had known you left because of it, I wouldn't have spent all these years hating you when I loved you so much.”

You stared at him, processing his words in your head. It felt like your mind was firing up with all the information you were getting. But your eyes found his lips and you couldn't even think to stop yourself before you pulled his collar and kissed him. He kissed you right back, aggressively, torridly, biting and sucking without mercy. When you pulled away, overwhelmed by his aggression, he smirked at you.

“You haven't changed at all, have you? Do you still like grabbing people by the collar?” he asked, obviously not looking for an answer when he kissed you again, lifting you to sit across his lap while he unzipped the back of your dress.

You let his hand wander, even arching your back when his lips traveled to your chest. He sucked your skin, bruising it and leaving marks all over you while you moan and grind on his hips.

“Oh, Mark!” you whimpered, grinding faster and harder against his clothed cock. Mark hitched your dress up, pulling your underwear down and thumbing your clit.

“That's right, baby. Call my name,” he smirked. “Call my name. I bet you missed that, huh? Or did you meet another Mark back there?”

You moved to unbuckle his belt but he stopped you, gently slapping your hand away and chuckling. He took off his coat and placed it on the sand before laying you down there. When his weight left you, you called for him, making him grin cockily as he stripped you off of your underwear. You watched as he unbuttoned his pants and let it fall to his knees.

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around, on your hands and knees.”

You felt humiliated being ordered around like that, but that didn't get in your head and instead, turned you on. There was something about Mark right now that is unfamiliar to you. Has he changed over the years? It doesn't matter, you were too lost in your lust to think about it and just want him inside of you.

A scream tore out of you when he suddenly pushed his cock in, roughly, without warning. He covered your mouth while you winced in pain, feeling like you had been brought back to the first time you ever had sex, which was with Mark as well.

“Does it hurt?” he asked in your ear, his voice mean and menacing. “Good. You probably deserved it.”

He started bucking his hips, thrusting violently into you. You should be angry, but you're only crying in so much pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he grabbed a fistful of your hair. He slapped your ass cheek once, and then twice, and several times again because each time he did you let out the lewdest, naughtiest moan he's ever heard. You were dirty because of lust, because of Mark. And you didn't mind, you liked it. You liked how he ravaged your skin with bruises caused by his intense kisses. You liked how your ass is stinging with each spank. You liked how he's drilling into you and thrusting hard like there's no tomorrow. You liked the disrespect and the bouts of pleasure that it sent through your entire body.

“Cum, baby. Don't be shy, let it go,” he ridiculed when your cries turned into faint whimpers. “I said do it!”

He thrusted roughly into you and that sent you into a spiraling orgasm that had you collapsing on weakened limbs. Mark stopped, letting you fall limp on his coat before gently turning your body so you were lying on your back. He wiped the sweat on your forehead and tucked away the hair that gathered on your face. Then he planted one tender kiss on your forehead.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly, laying his head on your chest. “Was it too much?”

“Why? You can't handle it?” you challenged so Mark lifted his head. He looked at you with a deadpan expression.

“How are you still atrocious with your words?”

“How are you still obsessed with my body?” you retorted and Mark shrugged.

“To be fair, it's an immaculate body.”

“And your dick is still hard,” you pointed out. Mark smirked at you and positioned himself on top of you.

“So I can fuck you into oblivion but you'd still have enough audacity to get smart with me?”

You just giggled while Mark leaned to kiss you. He prodded your entrance again, taking a few test penetrations before doing it fully as if he hadn't already left you wet and overly lubricated with your own juices. Mark fucked you again, this time in a way that's more like Mark, like how you remembered it to be. When he started losing strength in his arms and his movement became erratic, you knew he was close so you wrapped your legs around his torso, telling him to keep going. Mark went faster and harder until he pushed his very last thrust and came inside of you. You bit your lip, satisfied by the sex and even more so by the look on his face. You missed this man so much and you also missed how you can reduce him into such a mess with just your body.

“If I get you pregnant, that's on you,” he quipped, laying on top of you. You giggled, wrapping your arms around him. “I guess that's fine too because you'll have to marry me. I don't want my child to grow up with a broken family.”

“Well first, how do you know I'd keep it?”

“I don't, but assuming you would, I won't let him grow up without me.”

“And second, that's not gonna happen because I take birth control religiously.”

He lifted his head and frowned at you. “Do you sleep around in New York?”

You scoffed at the intrusive question and he shook his head briskly and pressed his cheek on your chest again.

“No, never mind. Don't tell me. You could have had a hundred boyfriends there, I don't care. You're here right now, so that's all that matters.”

You pushed him off of you but he wouldn't budge. “For the record, you were so obsessed with me before that I had to regularly take birth control pills. It just became a habit. I haven't been sleeping around, unlike someone I know.”

“Are you accusing me?”

“If the shoe fits.”

Mark just laughed as he stood up to put his pants back on. He then helped you up and gave you your underwear that he had kept out of the sand by placing it safely on the rock. He also helped you zip your dress back up before nuzzling on your neck.

“You smell different.”

“Perfume.”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“You like this perfume?”

“No. I like whatever you wear as long as it's your skin.”

You scoffed and pushed Mark away. “Hey, aren't you supposed to be mad at me right now?”

He shook his head and pulled you back into his embrace. “I don't care about any of that now.”

“Ah, so sex solves everything?”

“Of course not. But I do know you wouldn't have sex with me if you didn't still have feelings for me.”

“Presumptuous.”

“Was I wrong? As far as I know, you hate casual hookups.”

“That was before. How do you know I never hooked up in the last few years?”

“I do know you never dated anyone after me,” he grinned confidently and you were dumbfounded. “Why was that?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Stanley needs to zip his mouth, seriously.”

You huffed, leaning on his chest and letting him inhale more of your scent.

“I'm sorry, baby,” he cooed after a few minutes just quietly cuddling. “I'm sorry that I wasn't the safe haven you needed me to be.”

“No, I am sorry for hurting you. You didn't deserve that. You've been nothing but good to me. And somewhere along the way, you were too good for me and I tend to ruin everything that is good.”

Mark buried his face on your neck again.

“I kept thinking about you, you know. That's why I never really moved on. I kept thinking that maybe if I opened up to you it wouldn't be hard to give this city a chance. Maybe if I let you in, we could be happy even when I'm away. Maybe if I trusted you to accept me for who I am, I wouldn't be so miserable.”

“What if we try again?”

“Mark, I can't possibly put you through that again,” you complained, turning to face him but he captured your lips, shutting you up until you were weak and vulnerable underneath him again.

Your stay was extended and during that, you let Mark reel you in, showering you with the love he wished he had given you during those missed times. Your days were filled with reminiscing and reliving your youth by revisiting the old places you used to go to and doing the things you used to love doing with him. It was fun and you found yourself wishing time would stop for the two of you. Sometimes you think about not leaving, but you know there is no life for you here. Your love for Mark may be a valid reason to stay, but love alone is not enough to be content with your life. You have already established yourself in New York and that's where you are content with your life. The happiness part is still a work in progress, but you've achieved a lot so far and you can't risk all of that for love alone.

On your last day in the city, a lawyer came looking for you in your hotel room and told you about an inheritance. The visit prompted you to visit your old house, now abandoned after your uncle went to jail and your aunt died of lung cancer caused by secondhand smoking a few years ago. You were told that it is yours now, given that you were her only living relative and your uncle doesn't qualify because they were never married. You have a choice to keep it or sell it. You decided to sell it, not even hesitating. You never had fond memories there anyway.

“Wow, how long has this place been abandoned?” Mark asked as he followed you inside. The place was clean and you assumed they had it cleaned out after your aunt died. You've been told she died in the hospital but she also had a bad case of hoarding junk and the house was a complete mess before authorities were called in. Despite the neat appearance, cobwebs covered the ceilings and dust sat on every piece of furniture, a sign that no one had lived there for a long time.

“Long enough,” you replied, walking towards your bedroom. Even that was cleaned up. Nothing else remained except for a few pieces of furniture that had always been there. You didn't waste time reminiscing or looking around because you knew there was nothing to find there. You took everything important to you when you left so there really is nothing else to take.

Except maybe for the picture on the wall. One that is of your mother and your aunt. They look so much like each other with just a few distinguishing pictures. You took it from the wall and dusted it, tucking it on your side before turning to Mark. You gave him a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

“Let's go?”

“Let's go,” he nodded, offering his hand for you to hold on to.

You thought you would have a breakdown in there once you remember everything that pained you and everything that ruined your girlhood. You thought you'd fall back into the abyss of misery, but you didn't. You didn't even feel anything at all other than a slight tug when you saw your mother's picture. The house will be sold and you will never need to go back there again. Ever.

“Time to go,” Mark smiled at you after he dropped you off at the airport.

“It's been fun, Mark,” you told him, smiling bitterly at the thought of leaving your love behind. Again.

Mark laughed derisively as if trying to deny the situation. “No. Not again, y/n. I thought we're gonna work this out?”

“I've made a life for myself there, Mark. There's nothing for me here.”

“Me? I am here.”

You sighed, reaching to touch his cheek. “If I could, I'd take you with me anywhere. I want you as much as I want the life I've been dreaming of. But I've made big leaps, Mark. I can't jump back down.”

“I understand. But would you think about it? You don't have to live here. We can make this work, you know. I can go to you.”

“It won't make me feel any better to know that you're sacrificing your own life for me,” you sighed.

“I'm not. I'm making my own choices.”

You just smiled and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. “I love you.”

“I'll call you.”

“Sure. You can do that.”

He scooped you up in a hug and kissed you before you went to board your plane.

Two weeks in, you met Nadine for brunch in New York. She had been complaining about losing you to Mark so she travelled just to see you.

“So, you're like, LDR?”

“The LD part, yes. But we're not really in a relationship. He wants to, but I kept discouraging it.”

“Why?”

You gave her a stern gaze. “Because we're grown adults now, Nadine. We can't casually date around anymore.”

“Of course we can. But you won't because you're thinking of dating with the prospect of marriage.”

“No, I'm not.”

“Not explicitly, but you're doing it subconsciously,” she argued, pointing to her temple. “I can hear it in your tone.”

“Since when were you an expert on my tone?” you ridiculed, shaking your head.

“Since college? You never really changed that much, hun.”

You shook your head again, giving up on the argument and eating your food. Nadine checked her phone for a second and pointed out the date.

“Today's the 17th. Mark should be here by now,” she quipped, showing you her screen.

“In New York? Why?” you questioned, curious.

“Yeah. The last time we talked, he said he'd fly back on the 15th. Why do you think I chose now to come? So we could all meet up.”

“I'm sorry, fly back? Why would he be flying back?”

Nadine looked at you in surprise. “You don't know? He never told you?”

“No. He never told me anything about coming here.”

Nadine dropped his fork and covered her mouth in surprise. “Oh my god, I wonder why he didn't? He's been living here since last year. He got a job in an art museum.”

“He did what?”

Nadine sighed and shook her head disapprovingly. “For someone who's big on career and aspirations, you seem to not care about Mark's at all.”

“Hey, I do. We just don't talk about that stuff,” you defended, taking your phone out to see if he ever mentioned coming to New York.

Indeed, you don't talk about careers, mainly because you were reluctant to tell him you were doing so well as a professor and you didn't want to hear he has a good, stable job back home. Hearing that would make you feel even more upset about the fact that he can't leave that city and you can't go back either. So you avoided it. But why wouldn't he even mention that he's literally in the same state as you are when he knows it's a big deal for you?

Nadine told you where Mark worked and what his job was, then you headed there right after brunch. You realized it wasn't even that far and you're not just in the same state but in the same city! Just a couple blocks from your workplace was the museum where Mark worked as an art curator. And ever since last year, you have visited that museum more than a dozen times as a field study with some students. You walked in there, looking around the familiar building. When you spotted a lady who looked like a staff, you approached her to ask.

“Hi. I'm looking for Mark Lee. He's an art curator here, I believe,” you began and she gave you a kind look of discouragement.

“I'm sorry, but it won't be possible to meet an executive staff without an appointment. May I know what this is for? Maybe I can arrange something.”

You took out your ID and showed it to her. “I'm an Art professor. I just have a few things to discuss with him.”

“Oh, Miss y/n! I know you,” she smiled at you. “You're from NYU. If you would just follow me through here, I'll show you to his office.”

You thanked her and followed her into the elevator that brought you up several floors up the building.

“Mr. Lee is fairly new here but he's done a pretty good job so far. Everyone's just amazed at his efficiency and his knowledge of Art History,” she told you as you walked through a corridor and a few offices before she stopped in front of one door with Mark's name on it.

“Mr. Lee is right here, in this office.”

The staff knocked and called out to him. When you heard Mark's voice from inside, you felt your heart jump nervously in your chest.

“Go ahead.”

You walked through the door and found Mark buried in some papers. When he looked up, his eyes widened in recognition of you and he immediately stood up to approach you.

"Hi!" he blurted, amazement evident on his face.

“Hey,” you greeted shyly, looking around his office. He pulled you into a tight hug and whispered how much he missed you several times.

“What are you doing in my workplace?” You couldn't help but smile at the sudden surge of nostalgia.

“Stalking you?”

He seemed to remember the same thing because he laughed. “Are you a regular here?”

“Yes but, I actually came to stalk you.”

“You're a really pretty stalker.”

Mark halted his work, calling for a break before he took you to a sandwich place across the street. Then you sat on a bench in front of a fountain that was also right in front of his workplace. He told you he was swamped with work as soon as he came back and he'd been meaning to surprise you if you hadn't surprised him first. He also said he knew you were a regular and that you always came from time to time to tour your students. But at the time, he was still pretty mad at you, so he just sneaked peeks at you.

“Like a stalker?” you quipped, making him laugh just as he was trying to drink.

“No, not in a creepy stalkerish way. But yeah, I guess.”

You smiled absent-mindedly, watching him eat through his sandwich like he had been starved. It was an adorable sight and the emotions filling your heart were satisfying and beautiful.

He soon noticed you gawking. “Oh, sorry. I skipped breakfast.”

“Why are you curating art?” you asked instead of responding to his apology.

“What do you mean? It's my job.”

“You're the art.”

Mark burst out laughing again for a good minute, hitting his thigh several times while you wore a smug smile, proud to have made him laugh so much.

“Sorry,” he blurted but then he started laughing again. “Gosh, y/n. You're a really bad flirt.”

“But I'm a good comedienne,” you boasted before taking a bite from your sandwich.

Mark started laughing again and you happily watched, looking out at the sky. The two of you sat on that bench, hand in hand, eating an amazing New York sandwich. Together, somewhere far from your old city, somewhere you can both be happy.

“Oh, god, I love you,” he blurted as soon as he recovered from too much laughing.

“Say that again.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“I love you.”

You giggled. “One more time.”

“I love you.”

“That's nice. Again.”

“Alright. Now you're just messing with me!”

“Say it, Mark Lee!”

“I love you!”

[Fin]

#nct x you #mark lee x you #mark lee smut #nct smut #mark lee fluff #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct au #mark lee au #mark lee angst #nct fanfic #calcali

[9w1ft]

People often misunderstand what is meant when we talk about Taylor coming out during Lover. In mid 2019 she was still with joe. They had just spent time in Paris together. She was getting ready to release an album full of love songs and marriage themes. So we believe she also was going to come out as some sort of woman who has dated women in the past, however she was going to explain it or label it. She wasn’t about to blow up the whole industry and tell her whole truth and come out as a man-hating lesbian who had lied about all her relationships with men (I’m not saying what her label is, just what she was not going to do.) It was the safest and cleanest way she could come out as a girl kisser, giving her a start at someday, maybe being able to openly be in a relationship with a woman publicly, and while she would have lost a few fans, those who are incredibly hateful enough to abandon her would have already done so with her coming out as a pro-gay rights democrat and then releasing YNTCD. She was letting those fans go already. The vast majority who were left would have been totally fine with her being “bi”, with the added “safety” of being in a long term relationship with a man who she was hinting she was going to marry. It’s unfortunate that things still are the way they are, but that doesn’t change that it is still that way.

So the curiosity around her past with women would have generated a TON of interest from people who had never looked at her before beyond being a pop singer they thought was a more boring version of Britney Spears. Look at all the new fans who came on board with folklore and midnights. Her birthday post this year got 10X as many likes as her 2019 birthday post. 10 times! The vast majority of those 2019 fans would not have spent less on her because she had kissed girls at some point. And this newer type of fan we’ve seen since folklore more than likely would have appreciated her even more knowing that she had this “interesting” side to her. And the gossip would have been through the roof, which is where Karlie would have benefited from it. Keep in mind that right before the masters were sold, Karlie was having her second wedding with Josh, solidifying that a) she likes men and b) kaylor, which would have skyrocketed in the popular imagination, was definitely in the past.

I know some people hate this idea that her coming out would have been some sort of not real, halfway thing, but the reality is that all signs point to that being what was happening. Also some people think saying this somehow invalidates the reality of bisexuality (that joe could have been real or she wouldn’t lie and say she was bi if she wasn’t). But we need to be realistic about how Taylor operates, how much of her private life she owes people (zero!,) and that we do not know her label, and we do not know how she would have stated her label in her come out. Simply saying she wasn’t straight would not be a lie. But we do know she lies to protect herself and that’s OK! She could be bi and also fake dating Joe (and Calvin and Matty and Tom and Travis) because she fell in love with a woman and they’ve been secretly together ever since. She could have once identified as bi and dated men, but realized she’s a lesbian in recent years. She could still be unsure of her label. It doesn’t matter and we’ll probably never know because she does not have to tell us!

But her coming out as someone who has dated women in a vague way that still protects her private life while allowing her to live more truthfully in the public eye and open up more possibilities for the future is what we most likely were going to get.

And then a man she saw as a father figure, who encouraged her to closet for years, and may have known her plans to come out, sold her masters to a man who hated her and she hated, who had financial control over the love of her life (so another layer of betrayal - for Karlie), so both of these men could profit off of her finally getting a bit of freedom from the hard closet. It was sad and devastating for her! She was angry! She called it a new definition of betrayal. And she’s been mourning this situation ever since. But we can see the story of how she got her revenge by probably actively working toward ruining their lives (Mad Woman, Vigilante Shit), karma taking out the trash, and most importantly, by having a life well lived, which is always going to be the best kind of revenge.

So no, her earnings/popularity would not have been hurt by the type of coming out that we envision was the plan for 2019. Any loss would have been gained elsewhere.

thank you for writing this context out, yes, yes.

[insertsparkleshere]

Speak Now - Rosa Diaz x Reader

Summary: Rosa's wedding to Pimento doesn't go as planned. (Inspired by the Taylor Swift song of the same name, the bridge of which makes me absolutely feral).

Word Count: 902

Pronouns: None, but she/her reader intended

Published: 12/18/2022

Note: I totally didn't accidentally post this on my main what are you talking about

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

Gina is the only one who knows that you're in love with Rosa Diaz.

Frankly, you're surprised that she hasn't told anyone yet, but she kept your secret. Mostly because you didn't tell anyone when you found out that her and Charles had sex, but it counted.

Rosa's romance with Pimento had been...Interesting, to say the least. To you, it came out of nowhere, but you did your best not to pay attention to Rosa's love life. You wanted to stay sane and not-jealous, thank you very much.

But Pimento...They made sense together, you had to admit. You just hated him.

Jake and Charles still didn't get why, and neither did Hitchcock or Scully. You were pretty sure Amy had an idea, and Terry definitely had his suspicions. Holt had figured it out ages ago - you could tell - but he didn't say anything, which you were grateful for.

Until he did.

"(Y/L/N), see me in my office."

"Yes, Sir."

Rosa snickered. "Someone's in trouble."

"I'm sure it's nothing. Know Holt, I put a period when there should be a semicolon somewhere in my most recent bout of paperwork."

You step into Holt's office. "You wanted to see me?"

Holt stares at you, for a long moment. "Close the door."

"Okay..." You shut it.

"And the blinds. Santiago can read lips."

You frown, but do as he asks. "Is something wrong, Sir?"

"Are you okay?"

"What?"

"Diaz and Pimento's wedding is next week. Your feelings for Diaz are...obvious. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Sir. Whatever makes Rosa happy. And, right now, that's Pimento."

"Hm."

"What?"

"Have you considered telling her?"

"Once. But it's not meant to be. I've accepted that."

"You're a detective - act like it."

That was the moment that Rosa Diaz fell in love with you.

It was the third Halloween heist. And you were explaining your plan.

"I planted the idea of a Halloween Heist in your head three years ago. I wanted to have one, and I wanted to win. None of you have ever seen me get competitive, and I knew that Jake would obsess over this. Especially if he thought it was his idea.

"So, I gave you the idea for the Halloween Heist. And I waited, because I knew you'd take it into the many years to come. I didn't want to win the first one. And I considered winning the second, but the third seemed more poetic.

"All of you adore my baking, so, I decided that I would make a cake. For whoever won the third Halloween Heist. And then I said...What was it? 'It's not done yet, I wanted to make sure it was perfect.' And then I set myself up in the break room, already on Jake's team. He would want the cake, and he'd tell me to work on it while Charles guarded the briefcase, and Rosa went in to get it."

"What about Rosa?" Jake asked. "You could never betray her."

"You're right, Peralta, I couldn't. So, what do you think we did? You're a detective - act like it."

It was teasing, and off-handed, and you were riding on the high of victory, but it felt like Rosa's world had stopped.

"You were working together."

"Exactly. We made a great pair, don't you think, Rosa?"

"Yeah."

And you smiled, and Holt had looked over at Rosa, and she knew that he knew that she was completely screwed.

But Rosa knew that you didn't like her. So, she left it alone. And she met Pimento. And they got together. And it was stressful, and crazy, and every time he left, she found that she only ever wanted to talk to you.

But she ignored it, because emotions are for babies.

Or so Rosa told herself.

The day of the wedding came. You sat near the front, but behind someone, praying that no one would be able to see if you cried.

Your heart was shattering. But Rosa's happiness was more important than any pain you were feeling.

So, you tuned out for most of the ceremony. You didn't know if you could stand it.

"Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

There was a moment of silence.

There's my last chance. Your heart whispered.

You stood, hands shaking.

Hitchcock and Scully looked equally confused.

Realization was dawning on Charles's face.

Amy's eyes were wide.

Gina was smiling. She looked like she was about to laugh.

Terry looked worried.

Jake's eyes were bouncing from you to Pimento to Rosa and back again.

And Holt was neutral. You glanced over at him, and he nodded.

"This kind of wasn't what I thought was supposed to happen." You say quietly. "Right, um...I'm sorry. I just...I can't let you marry Pimento knowing that I could have said something and told you how I feel. And I didn't want to do this here, but I chickened out before, and...And now I'm here."

Rosa stepped off the pew, walking down the aisle towards you. You stepped into the aisle yourself, swallowing hard. The worst possible options raced through your mind.

Instead, she stopped inches away from you. "Hi."

"Hi." You whispered. "Sorry."

"Don't be." She leaned forward, kissing you softly. You froze, short-circuiting. Out of everything that could've happened, you hadn't expected this. "Let's go."

You nodded, and she took your hand, and you ran.

So glad you were around

When they said, "Speak Now."

#brooklun 99 #b99 #rosa diaz #rosa #jake peralta #halloween heist #hitchcock #scully #amy santiago #gina linetti #charles boyle #rosa diaz x reader #terry jeffords #raymond holt #rosa diaz x you #rosa diaz x yn

[exoluxionlove]

231104 xblushmagazine Instagram Update

Q1. Chanyeol seems to like camping and goes on camping trips often. Please recommend a song that's suitable for camping to listen together with your friends! Whenever I go on camping, I tend to enjoy the quietness and stay relaxed. I think a song which embraces that kind of emotion would be good. The one I could think of now is d4vd’s “Romantic Homicide”. It’s really good. Q2. Recently I’ve encountered many difficulties in my studies and I always feel that I’m not doing well enough. I’m very stressed about it. I believe everyone will have to go through this kind of phase in their life. At those times, don’t blame yourself too much. Have a look at my XBlush photoshoot and listen to my songs. Just keep your head free of thoughts and take a rest. I hope you can figure it out after that. Q3. My girlfriend has liked Park Chanyeol for 11 years. I want to propose to her this year. Is there any EXO song suitable for it? Among EXO songs, I think “Lucky” will be suitable. The lyrics are impressive. The line “meeting you was my luck” was beautifully written. Yeah, I recommend “Lucky”! She is gonna like it. Q4 is about chanyeol’s fashion choices for the recent weather. He advised to dress up warmly and to always carry a jacket due to the unstable weather. Q5. Visiting Seoul with a friend, recommend a place? Actually I don’t really tour around in Seoul very much. Still, among the places I have visited, now I could think of Han River. You can simply daze out there and the ramyun eaten at Han River is super delicious! You can have ramyun and feel that kind of emotion? Yeah, I recommend it. Q6. Horror movie recommendation? I’m not very fond of horror movies, so I’ve watched only a handful of them. Among those, the memorable one was “Paranormal activity”. I watched it during high school and it had a huge impact on me. There’s a possibility that you might have watched it already but I recommend this movie. Q7. My birthday is day after tomorrow. I’ve been repeatedly reminded by my parents that I’m in my 30s, that I no longer look forward to my birthday anymore. But I’m over 30 and I still look forward to my birthday. I truly believe that age is just a number. Just push your mindset back to your younger days when you celebrated your birthday happily and thank your parents for giving birth to you. Just enjoy your day! I’m so excited for my birthday this year. Q8. Its my parents’ wedding anniversary soon, what gift would be good? Without letting your parents know, you can secretly find out, like the memories related to their first date or the kind that will bring back old memories. Maybe make an album out of it and gift them. If I were that parent in question, it would make me very happy. Q9. Lost interest in everything, how can I make myself happy? I’m sure there is always that friend who does everything, likes to play outside often, loves to work out. I’m sure you would also have…or maybe not. But usually there is someone like that around us. If you hang out with them and get closer, you will definitely find something interesting. Translation

#Chanyeol #Exo #XBlush Magazine #Video #Instagram

[nagisadelune]

Headcanon: Dancing in the Kitchen with Artem

(Definitely not edited)

I didn't create Artem as a character; Hoyo did.

Now, I'm a huge fan of Artem from Tears of Themis (fight me lol). So I figured that I would write a short headcanon I have about him, but this time it'll be in a closer-to-proper writing style. (Post writing: this was definitely not short lol)

If you didn't know, this man is the closest thing I have seen to a malewife: knows how to cook, always takes care of you whenever you're sick, makes sure you are safe. If you can imagine someone taking care of you somehow, he's probably the person to do those things. However, if you play the game, this is basically common knowledge.

For the timeline, imagine that this is after you/Rosa and Artem already got married, and you guys now live together in Artem's current home in game. (Weddings are expensive which makes you broke, okay? We'll get that nice mansion later lol)

⭐⭐⭐

You've already changed into your comfortable clothes for the night after getting back home from work. Today was rough: all the paperwork and investigations really took it out of you. Because of this and the upcoming weekend, you and Artem decided to have an at-home movie date: just you and your man in your pajamas cuddling while watching a movie.

While waiting for Artem to finish changing, you went to the kitchen to collect some snacks for your date. Considering how dark it is in the room, you only turn on the stove light and play some music from your phone for the vibes. It's a Friday, and you need to relieve some stress. What better way to do that than with some music and some good food?

Dancing around in the kitchen and picking out snacks, you fail to notice Artem watching you from the doorframe. It's only when you look for a bowl in one of the cabinets that you finally see him intently watching you while leaning against the doorframe. You freeze mid-motion, one hand reaching for the cabinet and the other holding a bar of dark chocolate. He also seems to freeze when you realizes that you just caught him staring at you.

With an awkward cough to clear your throat, you asked an a small voice, "You just finished?" Hopefully, your question was enough to break the tension and calm the heat rising to your cheeks. With a soft smile and chuckle, he nods and starts approaching you. Your heart begins to race, and you can feel the rapid beat in your throat. Once he's right in front of you, his hand lands on the corner of the counter, and he leans a little on it while he admires your face. "W-What is it?" you manage to stutter out as his hand brushes a stray strand behind your ear.

"You know you're beautiful and really cute, right?" Artem whispers so quietly even you can barely hear him. Because of his comment, you can't make any eye contact with him, and you know for a fact that your cheeks are red. You hear him chuckle again before he leans away from you and grabs your phone from the counter. Your eyes follow his figure as you watch him swipe and type on your phone screen. Trying to see what he is trying to do, you put the chocolate bar down and stand by his side.

"Romantic music playlist?" you read confused before looking up at him. Although his back is towards the light, you can tell his lips are curved slightly upwards. He clicks on a song before placing your phone down again.

"I'm not really feeling a movie tonight," he starts softly, "so maybe we can try something different." Still confused, he reaches over to the stove to turn off the light, and the two of you are left with only moonlight to see anything. The soft notes from your phone starts playing, and you recognize the song; it's the song from your first dance with him. He turns towards you before offering his hand to you. "May I have this dance?" he asks softly as the moonlight highlights the details of his hands. You giggle knowing that he is probably really embarrassed to be suggesting this.

Playing along with a curtsy, you respond, "You may." You place your hand in his, and the warmth in his hands warms you up from the inside. His other hand gently wraps around your waist while your other hand reaches to his shoulder. Despite the darkness of the room, you see his eyes on you which you return. Following the beat of the music, your feet are in sync as he guides you to glide across the hardwood floor of the kitchen. His hand raises up to make you twirl before catching your waist again.

With the song coming to the end, his arms wraps around your waist, and you lean into his body. His familiar scent fills your nose as you gently sway to the beat with him. You can feel the tension in your body slowly melt away while his hand gently holds you against him. With a hand patting your hand softly, you can't help but to close your eyes and enjoy the feeling.

"Does this remind you of our wedding?" Artem asks carefully as his fingers runs through your hair. You nod against his chest and start listening to his heartbeat. Both of your heartbeats seem to sync up, and you release a breath, feeling a weight coming off of your chest. Even without looking at him, you know that his face has the smile he only reserves for you, the soft one which conveys how much he really cherished you. Artem carefully peels you away from his body to have a good look at your face before his hands cups your cheeks. He places a tender kiss on your forehead, and you just feel yourself melting. "I love you," he mutters just loud enough for me to hear.

"I love you too, Artem."

⭐⭐⭐

I hope you liked this! This is the first time that I've written a long headcanon like this, so it might be a little rough around the edges. Hopefully, this put a little smile on your face. See you in the next one!

#tears of themis #artem wing #tot artem #tears of themis x reader #zuo ran #tears of themis artem #tears of themis x you #tears of themis x y/n #headcanon #tears of themis headcanons #dancing in the kitchen #dancing in the dark #tot zuo ran

[spideyharrington]

Dreams Tonite

summary: y/n has had terrible generalized anxiety for as long as she can remember. luckily steve hasn’t had to see her when her mind makes up cruel scenarios that make her panic. that is until her brain decides to think about what would happen if she never met steve. and steve just so happens to decide to drop by her house in the midst of her panic.

warnings: anxiety attack, hurt / comfort, overthinking, getting caught up in things that could’ve happened and “what-ifs”, cursing ofc

A/N: ofc this is inspired by Dreams Tonite by Alvvays. this song always hits me so hard. also partially inspired by the line “i pass you on the street and our eyes don’t meet” from I Wish I Never Met You by Babygirl. also it’s definitely a self-indulgent fic. if you relate, i’m sorry and i hope this gives you some sort of comfort <3 it’s short but it’s sweet and i might’ve cried a couple times writing it 🧍‍♀️

word count:

For her entire life, y/n’s brain had made up scenarios to hurt her when it decided that life was going too well. She had been dating Steve Harrington for about three months now and of course he knew about her anxiety, he caught on fast to her tell-tale signs and eventually figured out how to help her calm down which she was extremely grateful for, but he didn’t exactly know about how bad it could get when she was alone at night. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it wasn’t pretty. Sometimes her hands would get cold and she got uncontrollable shivers and have to try to focus on something else. And other times she’d start sobbing uncontrollably. Neither of which were exactly pleasant to experience or see. And she never wanted Steve to see either of them. She could see his worried expression and it’d only make her more upset. Not to mention she’d feel so dramatic and silly if she explained that the reason she was so upset was over some insane scenario that never happened.

It was 2:00am when she started to feel it. Her hands started to get cold. At first she couldn’t figure out why, and then the thoughts flooded in. What if I never got attacked by that demogorgon outside of the Wheeler house? What if Steve wasn’t there? What if he wasn’t the one with the spikey bat? What if him and Nancy hadn’t broken up? What if I decided to go home and pretend it never happened instead of joining them in their fight against the upside down? The thoughts continued to snowball until she was sobbing harder than she had in months. thinking about how different her life would be without those kids. Without Robin, Jonathan, even Nancy. Without Steve. God she didn’t wanna know what it would be like but yet here she was. Thinking about all the different paths she could’ve ended up on. All of them without Steve, who she was certain was the love of her life. Her soulmate even. She wasn’t sure how long it went on for, but next thing she knew there was a hand on her back that made her jump.

“Steve…?” She managed to croak out.

“Honey what’s going on?” He couldn’t even try to hide the concern and mild fear in his voice. You frowned even more.

“It’s... It’s nothing. Why are you here?” She tried to rapidly wipe away her tears as if she hadn’t already been caught sobbing into the stuffed animal he had gotten for her at a fair. It was an oversized platypus, which they laughed over how random it was to have, that Steve had decided to name Sir Quacksalot. Even though you were quite certain platypuses didn’t quack.

“Couldn’t sleep. Felt like something was off and I missed you. Tried to call but no one answered. I got worried and came over, and apparently I was worried for good reason.” He rubbed her back and looked down at her face. She was avoiding eye contact at all costs.

He took her face gently in his hands, “please talk to me Dove.” He loved calling her that. He claimed that if she were a bird, she would be a dove because “you’re like when they release the doves at weddings. It doesn’t really make sense, but it’s so beautiful.”

“It’s stupid. I promise I’m okay. I just got caught up in stupid what-ifs.” When she looked into his eyes, that were searching her own for an actual answer, she felt like she was going to start sobbing again. He must’ve been able to tell. He didn’t say anything, he just wrapped her in a firm yet gentle hug. Rubbing her back once again.

“You don’t have to tell me. But if you wanna talk about it, you know I’m here for you and I’d never judge you. I go through a lot of the same shit believe it or not. Getting caught up in what-ifs I mean.” He said softly into her hair.

She couldn’t hold it in. She started to cry again, “what if… What if I never got attacked by that demogorgon?”

Steve was silent for a moment before responding, “I don’t follow…”

“You wouldn’t have had to save me. We never would’ve met. If I saw you on the street, would our eyes even meet? Would I ever have you in my dreams? Or would you just be another faceless person standing in the background?”

Steve let out a short chuckle. She pulled back to look at him and furrowed her brows, starting to feel a bit hurt before he quickly explains himself, “first off, your thoughts are valid, but we’re here now and all that shit did happen and it’s not gonna change. Second, have you ever tried song writing?”

She furrowed her brows further, staring at him.

“You just basically spoke in lyrics babe.”

It took her a second to remember what you even said. But when she did, she let out a small chuckle as well and shook her head.

“Back to what you said though,” he grabbed her shoulders softly and started rubbing them up and down, “I get it. I get thinking about it too much and feeling sick. Trust me I’ve been there. Thinking about my life without you is the worst feeling I think I’ve ever experienced. And yes that does count when Nance drunkenly broke my heart in a bathroom at some assholes party.” He gave a warm smile. One that really only she ever got to see, “But, I think about how all of that stuff lead to us. Right here and right now. Yeah it’s possible that if just one thing was different, we wouldn’t be here. But each one of those things did happen, and I think about how beautiful that is. We had a one in a million chance and we made it. Isn’t that amazing?” He looked into her eyes and she could feel how heartfelt he was.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Even after all the shit you’ve been through, you still have the ability to do… That. To look at things from a different perspective. A better perspective. You’re almost terrifyingly optimistic at times Harrington.”

He smiled at her again, “you tend to do that to me y/l/n.”

She smiled a genuine smile and he felt his heart stutter. God he loved her smiled. He never wanted to see her not smiling.

“Can you… Can you stay tonight? Please?”

She clung into him again, as if he would try to leave.

“Of course sweetheart. And ya know what? Why don’t we skip tomorrow? We’ll watch your favorite romcoms and play your favorite tapes and dance around your room till our legs feel like jelly. How’s that sound?”

She nodded quickly into his chest letting out a hum of acceptance. She didn’t need to see his face to know that he was smiling. And for the first time in a week she was excited to go sleep. She suddenly couldn’t wait for tomorrow. And she knew her fears couldn’t reach her when Steve was there to block them out. She knew he would be in her dreams tonight. And he knew she’d be in his.

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things fic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington x anxious!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader

[martini-time]

Ok, there's smth vague that still bothers me and i wanna share with you (maybe i read too much into it, i dunno).

Layla had a few vague posts with very weird timing that i cannot figure out. Probably you or beautiful anons can elaborate.

First one is this https://ibb.co/bW0HPqM (07.29.2015). It feels like a message to someone (to herself maybe?), or it's about insecurities? The timing is weird cause at that time noel was back on set (07.31 is the day they had cast reunion and noel was there sitting next to cam, cam deleted that pic, btw, for whatever reason, you never know with him). It's also the time when cam had an emotional breakdown and posted heartbreaking shit (many people i know firmly believed he just missed noel and once they met at cast reunion, he seemed a bit happier after that, but it was most likely cause of sadie and their constant on-and-off relationship).

Second one is https://ibb.co/xY2rPfY. A very optimistic one like something suddendly resolved like she wanted to\hoped for? The timing is also beautiful - right after noel filmed the dock scenes in chicago and came back home.

Third one is https://ibb.co/mqnK2zk. A month before the wedding. I have no idea whether it has any meaning or not but it sounds like it does, since layla is not the type of a person who would post some weird shit just for the sake of it (like cam often does).

Now, this one is the most interesting one https://ibb.co/zSxv9jm. She posted it twice: 1) in july 2016 (then week after steve howey hinted in his twitter that noel is coming back). A few days later she posted another weird post saying smth like "no matter what you're going through - beauty can be found anywhere" or smth (i don't have it, it's in her insta). What is funny, Noel posted a song not long before that, Sam Cookie – A change is gonna come. (the same song he posted when he had a fallout with Layla in 2018). What is even funnier, a week after that Cam also made a vague post about fear - https://ibb.co/m40tXWC. A day before that he made another vague post about darkness\lightness (i find some symbolism in it, assuming he means he is the darkness) - https://ibb.co/1TZsvCy. 2) in september 2017, they were already married, and nothing really happened at that time, so i wonder... trouble in paradise? but why...

Ok, so maybe it all means nothing, but it still rubs me the wrong way. I don't believe she posted it just cause. She definitely meant something and it was personal (not necessarily about Cam or Mosher, but definitely related to Noel\herself).

You know, maybe sometimes we all read too much into it, but I don't think we'd all be here if we didn't see anything suspicious or strange or coincidental. I don't believe in coincidences. Maybe only sometimes. :)

I do not know if you wanted me to sort out each of her quotes and timelines. Someone may say that these are just quotes and we all like them. it's true, sometimes we like a quote from a movie because it sounds good and that's it, but Layla posted them to her page as separate posts, so she felt a certain way that she needed to add this or that thing to her page.

But it's not even about the quotes. Look, they've been together like since 2005 and they've never been super busy actors, but they only got married in 2017 right when Noel was filming and he went back to LA to get married, whereas they could have chosen any time any date of any year to do it calmly and possible to choose a nicer place than the backyard of your house, in which you haven't even unpacked your boxes, come on, Noel.

So I don't need to read too much into the quotes to know that this is some kind of shit lol

Or that time after the dock scene Noel didn't go to hang out with the cast, but went to Layla and she made sure to post that pic of Noel in their bed and say he's with her, suck it, red.

It's too much for a private person.

I don't know if that's what you wanted me to say.. But yes, I think these three definitely communicated through posts, stories, songs and tweets on sm.

And you wrote there about the trouble in paradise. Look, this is the first time they appear at an event as a married couple. Happy faces hahah, yeah

So yeah, I'm sure they've had troubles more than once.

#time to tea #noel #layla

[thejjkhoe]

five thirty am chapter one

warnings : none

previous.

Gojo Satoru watched (Name) silently as she marked his first year students test papers and reading a report after.

The five o’clock golden sunlight complimenting the interior of her office, the books collecting dust on her shelf, plants on every corner that it pretty much looked a small garden and a radio which he brought for her randomly because he loves to buy souvenirs for his wife is playing an 80’s song on her desk.

He doesn’t say it out loud but he likes to hang out here everyday at four thirty o’clock where students would go to their respective dorms and leave their teachers alone to their own business.

Lately, the tall white haired teacher was starting to notice that he’s been hovering around her lately, to missions, training their students, meetings— Gojo also made sure to drag her along to a fancy restaurant and he swears it feels his breath is knocked out of him everytime (Name) dolls herself up for the occasion, making heads turns to their direction because of his woman beside him, a cocky smirk would make his way to his lips when (Name) grabs his arm, flashing the diamond ring on her finger to let other know she’s already taken. (politically, sadly. But still.)

If someone told Gojo that he’s disturbing his wife, he would give a nonchalant shrug, he doesn’t really care if he was disrupting his wife’s schedule and it seems (Name) didn’t mind his company, though at time, she complains he has his own office or he could do whatever he wants with his free time than spending it with her in silence to which he only responds; “It’s boring without you.” Making the wife give in and let the husband tinker around her office, occasionally scolding him not to touch the vase Utahime gifted them on their wedding day.

The husband likes her brown couch the most that faced her desk, it’s comfortable and he could lay down there and relax, looking at her do her things, listening to her pen scribbling in the papers and the soft music playing in the background until he’s drifting off to sleep, one of the places where he would trust to turn off his infinity.

“You would definitely love my mother.” He started, watching how the edge of her lips tugged upwards, the dimple appearing on her cheeks that he finds it adorable as she stopped looking at the reports and lock eyes with him with a raise of a brow.

“This is the first I heard you mentioning her.” He doesn’t know why he brought this up, he wasn’t really close with his mother or why his heartbeat oddly picked up when the soft golden light hits her face, making her look more attractive when her eyes lightened up. He continued, returning back a cheeky smile and shamefully man spread in his seat, resting his arm behind the couch while playing with his white bandages with his free hand.

“She passed a long time ago, I didn’t really know much about her or thought about her but you two have so much in common, like keeping trinkets,” he points at the bookshelf where the small figurings scattered around, finding it endearing when he finds out his wife keeps his little gifts in display. “Or the unusual love of plants, she’s got her own little garden back home. No one’s taking care of it ever since, so it’s all dried up and the place looks dead.” (Name) looked at him, her cheek squishing when she rest it on the palm of her hand as he fumbled around his makeshift blindfold, waiting for him to continue. “That was adorable.” He thought, unknown to him, he lets out the biggest smile as he watch (Name) giving him all her attention.

There were times he found himself opening up to her accidentally that he regretted he slipped out of character, but when her eyes looked at him without a hint of judgment and she listened intently to what he has to say, Gojo didn’t mind spilling all his feelings if it was her that stayed.

Seven years in marriage but it feels like they were still in their teenage years. Gojo Satoru liked that.

He likes how (name) listened to what he has to say when anyone thinks he was playing around, he likes how she takes him seriously when they’re discussing a topic that needed to be addressed, he likes how she responds to him with an open mind and his favorite thing that he likes her the most is her genuine laugh whenever he says something that she finds humorous.

It made Gojo forget he’s the strongest for a moment and it’s an internal conflict inside him because he doesn’t know if that was a good thing.

Looking at his favorite woman in front of him, he noticed how her skin has a healthy glow, a gentle look adorned on her features, and her eyes piqued with curiosity but patient to wait for him to continue, it’s almost crazy how much she changed during the years that a swell of pride bloomed on his chest because he’s the reason why she looks so healthy, he takes pride that he’s the one who took care of her even from afar.

Gojo reminded himself that this is the same (Name) who likes to plays around when they were in highschool, a woman version of himself because she likes to have fun around and poke her nose to a business that doesn’t have anything to do with her, always ending the day Yaga scolding (Name) and her not listening. This woman who claimed that she loves him only as a friend, thanking him silently everyday for saving her life by marrying him.

That wasn’t supposed to hurt him, but it did and he had no idea why, Gojo made sure he felt the same way towards her. Right?

“But,” he shrugged, putting his hands behind his head, suddenly feeling weird how he starts to notice every little things about her despite being married for seven years, “I don’t know, maybe you won’t-“ she cuts him off with a scoff.

“Are you kidding me? She sounds cool! Of course we’ll get along.” She reassured, giving him a grin before returning to read the reports. “You can tell me more, I like hearing your stories.” She said, quietly flipping through the pages.

He wants to. He wants to spend more time with her. But his phone vibrated in the table and his lockscreen was soon flooded with notifications of Megumi angrily asking where they were and that his adviser is looking for them because he stirred up another trouble with his schoolmates. “(Name), it’s five twenty pm.”

(Name) immediately look up at the clock, confirming he’s telling the truth and she gave him a tired look when he innocently smiled at her. “‘Toru we were supposed to pick him up by five! You know what happens if we forget him even for five minutes— I don’t want to face another screaming parent at me of how Megumi beat up their son’s ass.” Too bad, Megumi did actually beat someone’s son’s ass, that’s why the teacher told them that they should pick their son up everyday (making (Name) spluttered that they’re just guardians but she does absolutely love the fact they thought Megumi is their son. )to prevent more trouble from happening.

He can already picture (Name) scolding both of them in the car because he loves encouraging Megumi to stir more trouble, Gojo claims that “we used to cause trouble in highschool, what’s so different now?” To which his wife would pinch his arm and answer; “yes, we do, but we were in highschool!”

Putting his blindfold on, he placed his hand on his chest, feigning surprise. “You were distracted by my handsome voice and now you’re blaming me? Besides, you look cute when you got your nose buried in that report, it’s almost convincing how you act you understand it.” Gojo teased, laughing mockingly to annoy the wife when she threw the pencil at him, only for it to stop halfway because of his infinity.

(Name) huffed at him, grabbing her phone inside her bag to send a message to their “adopted kid.” That they’re running late, promising him that Gojo would treat them dinner later night.

“Unlike you, I have a sense of responsibility, you white haired crack.” She lifted the brown folder, throwing the phone inside her bag, “And this report I got my nose buried to concerns us— or you.” With that, she opened the folder to show him the papers inside, a picture of a highschooler looking tired in his highschool ID and disturbing pictures of injured men stuffed inside a locker.

“A sixteen years old boy is going to get executed in total isolation, apparently this guy injured his classmates severely with his curse, that’s you’re good at, saving young sorcerers, go do your thing tomorrow.” Gojo whistled at the sound of that, shoving his hands on the pockets of his pants, watching (Name) as she throw anything work related on her bag. “What’s his name?”

“He is your distant relative, Okkutsu Yuuta.”

#jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk gojo satoru #jjk geto suguru #gojo satoru x yn #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x yn #gojo x you #geto suguru x reader #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo angst #gojo fluff #geto angst #geto fluff

[strawberrisoulmate]

psst. you should share the wedding reception dance scenario :3c

wahhhhhh, you're really gonna make me type all that out, huh >///< (this ended up being super long, so i'll put it under a cut)

so basically... i had been thinking a bit about how both luck and hanna would be at yours and claire's wedding. obviously.

claire grew up with the gandors and is considered their adopted brother, so of course they'd be there to support him on his wedding day. hell, i could maybe even see the gandor brothers (+ firo) being his groomsmen with luck potentially even being his best man. regardless, they'd definitely be there. and, since the two of our inserts are such good friends, she would absolutely be there as a guest to the bride (you! uwu)

with all of that said, i can imagine a scenario where our inserts are chatting together and enjoying the wedding reception. there's music pouring out from the stage where the band that claire absolutely hired with his assassin money is and everyone is having a great time drinking and dancing and laughing together.

across the room, luck is observing the party from a distance, sipping his glass of champagne as he watches his brothers dance with their wives from the sidelines. isaac and miria are drinking and laughing loudly with a few of the other guests while firo practically trips over his own feet trying to ask ennis to dance. it's all good fun. he's never been one for dancing himself, but he's perfectly happy to enjoy the atmosphere where everyone else is having a great time around him. it isn't until a flash of red hair and a bright, coy smile comes into view that luck's attention is pulled from the center of the room, followed quickly by an arm being thrown over his shoulder before he has a chance to dodge it.

"luck! whatcha doin' all the way over here? there's a party going on, ya know, and you're over here brooding and drinking all by yourself?"

"i'm not brooding. just enjoying the music from a distance, is all."

"oh, come on! let loose once in a while, will ya? keith and berga both brought their wives along and you didn't even bother to bring a plus one? it's my wedding, remember? you should get out there and dance with someone at least!"

"you know i don't dance. and i don't need a plus one. i'm perfectly content to be here on my own. shouldn't you be with your wife right now?"

"yeah, i'm about to go find her. but still, just do me this one favor. grab yourself a doll to dance just one song with and i'll die a happy man. well, i won't die, but you get the picture. look, there's a cute one right over there. bet she wouldn't turn ya down if you asked her."

"i told you, i don't need to—"

"whoops, gotta go. i think i hear my wife callin' me~"

and with that, he spins on his heel and rushes off back into the crowd.

cut back to our inserts talking before we are promptly interrupted by claire. "pardon the interruption, miss, but i'm gonna be stealin' her away for a little while," he says before taking your hand and practically sweeping you off your feet with a twirl. as he's whisking you away, he sends a glance over his shoulder and is like “oh, and i’ve already taken care of payin’ you back for the advice ya gave me a while back. you can thank me later 👋” and then pulls you along to dance.

for a moment, hanna is confused and just standing there with a blank expression. paying her back? what did he mean by that? she wonders to herself before her thoughts are sharply cut off by the silhouette of a figure coming into view. she looks up at the person with curiosity before her eyes meet those of luck gandor. a man she'd met on occasion and had spoken to once or twice, but they hadn't had many opportunities to converse all that deeply. before she can ask him if he needs anything from her, he speaks up and asks her if she would like to dance.

huh? a dance? with me?

immediately, her cheeks begin to heat up and she pauses, stunned silent for a couple of seconds before she fumbles out a modest — and slightly awkward — "s-sure. i'd be honored" before reaching out and taking his hand.

as they make their way towards the dance floor, hanna looks around the room, catching your eye as you dance with your new husband and gives you a confused look, only to be met with a surprised grin back. luck's feet stop, making hanna stumble a bit behind him, before he turns back to her. the hand that had been in hers moved to her waist, resting against her lower back and the girl could feel her face heating up even warmer than before. for a moment, she hesitates, but ultimately follows his lead and steps closer, moving one hand to land daintily on his shoulder while the other gently rests in his free hand.

as they begin to move, stepping and swaying to the music, hanna's eyes fall to the floor, watching her feet in an attempt to both make sure she doesn't accidentally step on his as well as to avoid the piercing gaze that she could feel staring holes into her. she'd never danced with anyone, and much less been this close to any man before, so she was sure that her nerves were very clearly shining through.

"you know, i think you're supposed to look at the person you're dancing with."

"a-ah… i'm sorry."

"you seem nervous."

"well, i've never… i mean, nobody has ever asked me to dance before."

he chuckles softly.

"well, i've never asked anyone to dance before, so i suppose there's a first for everything."

the girl quietly squeaks with embarrassment, but something about hearing that makes her incredibly happy. she forces her eyes to look up at him and he's gazing back down at her with a charming smile that made her heart harshly skip a beat.

"i suppose i'll follow your lead then, mr. luck."

a nervous giggle escapes her as she quickly corrects herself.

"excuse me— i mean mr. gandor."

"hm, luck is fine. you can drop the "mister", too. makes me feel old."

"a-alright…"

and that's pretty much it.

they continue to dance until the song ends and then part ways, but oh man, does hanna now have some feelings to sort through ahah.

she spends the entire rest of the evening in a daze as she replays it over and over in her head and continues to find herself daydreaming about his pretty eyes and his charming smile and the way he held her as they danced and the tingling feeling left on her fingers from how they felt against his hand.

she was already a hopeless romantic before, but now she's absolutely down bad 😂

#wahhh this ended up being so long i'm so sorry #anyways that's the scenario. i've been thinking about it for days and i am unwell >///< #🌸 asks #🌸 mutuals | koda #🌸 self insert | baccano! #♣️ #i've been fighting with the formatting on this for way too long so i'm just saying fuck it lolol

[nibblelinephym]

Ok. first off, that sounds amazing and I’ll watch it soon. Second, what do the choirs songs sound like? They all break into song and dance, so what’s the vibe and theme of their songs :)

oceans is kind of similar to sugar cloud !! very bubbly and upbeat, high energy, mostly talking about how meaningful constance is to her. how happy she is to have her in her life and the choir. it gets mildly dark at the end but im not sure what those lyrics would entail. probably something about not feeling as if either of them are truly happy at all. ocean kisses constance, infecting her in the process. definitely not the worst way to go but she still ends up in the hivemind so, not the best either (the intent of the kiss was to infect but ocean just wanted to kiss her i think)

noels would be very somber. not very similar to noels lament but kind of the same genre yk?? he would sing of his tragedy and how he never felt as if he fit in here in uranium. but now he does! now that he's one with the others, he feels so welcome and loved, wouldnt you want to be one with them too? he sings of heartbreak, and longing, and how maybe the real tragedy of his life was living in uranium, not becoming infected

i think constance would get a song with ocean and noel as vocal backup (what gets the remaining three to figure out something is deeply wrong if they hadnt already encountered infected before finding these three). its also a bit similar to noels lament in genre, talking about how shes so much more than the nicest girl in town, theres so much more to her than that shallow image everyone else has given her. its about her wants, her desires, her dreams, just.... herself. ofc, there is a bit at the end where she acknowledges that theres nothing wrong with being the nicest girl in town. she deserves to figure that out

ricky gets to sing about zolar i cant take that away from him. however, he also sings about how he felt kind of... discarded maybe? because of his disabilities and the ableist way hes been treated throughout his life (ocean infantilizing him, etc etc etc). he wont be treated as something other than normal anymore, the hivemind will make sure of that, wont you please join us?

its a few hours before mischa is infected. he and penny think theyre safe, locked away somewhere secure, somewhere theyre sure the infection cant reach them. they dont know how it happened, the door is blocked, they can hear the people they once knew as neighbors behind it, clamoring to be let in, shouting and screaming and banging on the one barrier keeping them apart. but... somehow, a few got in. a woman dressed in a wedding gown, flanked by ocean and constance. she sings of a love he can still have. she sings of his yearning for talia, and how the hivemind can bring them together. how he can hold the love of his life in his arms. hes so tired. he gives in, allowing them to infect him, much to pennys horror, and takes lead of the song. he sings so desperately for his beloved, he sings of his longing, the pain in his chest when he thinks of the distance between them. he sings of the anger he feels at that separation. he sings of how he wishes, with all of his heart, to be united with her for eternity.

penny doesnt get a song of her own. shes backed into a corner by mischa and the others. she can see the pain in his eyes as he infects her without showing any mercy. finally, all of uranium is one. finally.

#the whole goal of the hivemind is to get everyone into it whether they like it or not #even with their personalities intact their main goal is still just to get people infected fjsjdj #at the beginning the infected are more. trying to convince normal people that theyre harmless and normal #as opposed to the horror aspects in later tgwdlm that cause the minor gore #so. at least in the beginning the songs are a lot calmer. im not sure if they would get more violent as time went on #or like. not sure if the choirs songs would get more violent i guess #other uranium residents would be getting steadily more violent for sure though #tgwdlrtc au #rtc #ride the cyclone #ocean o'connell rosenberg #noel gruber #constance blackwood #ricky potts #mischa bachinski #rtc penny lamb #rtc jane doe #god i had so so so much fun thinking abt this fkshdk #fiction<3

[septembersghost]

Question definitely has some real jealousy lmao. I think she listened to leaks first and then listened to HsH and realised how much it changed b/w them.Like there was a time when harry used to blush everytime someone brought her up. I'm surs she has seen the memes of Taylor Swift smile. She used to say he would interrupt her wedding. Maybe a tiny unconscious part of her hoped she would always have that place in his heart. But I think olivia praising harry, them doing RS interview together ,THEM LIVING TOGETHER ,his album etc. made her realise he has completely moved on.So that unconscious part got hurt a bit. So she lashed out(I feel like this word is way too strong) a bit. Telling him I know I am still ur best gf will give her some satisfaction. It's not like he's gonna call her and tell her she's wrong.

i don't know if it's fair to call it direct jealousy so much as it is bittersweetness, like there's a real mix there of some sour annoyance, some...hmm...this word is going to sound way harsher than i mean it, but i can't think of a better one, so - smugness? (in the tone of the "meteor strike," like, i KNOW this had meaning to you), and some fondness/nostalgia ("you painted all my nights a color i've searched for since," and i don't think the illicit affairs of it all sneaked in there, along with the i know places, is a coincidence). "i swear that it was somethin'." even when you're happy and in love and living your own life, i think a tiny part of very normal human nature is hoping someone still might pine for you a little. not enough for it to be disruptive, but on those quiet nights when your thoughts start to circle around (which is exactly what this album is). and the funny thing is, i don't doubt that he does have a place for her in his heart, people carry loves around even after they flame out, especially formative ones. probably part of what was jarring was seeing him in a long-term, suddenly very committed situation, and it's like, well, we never actually got closure here. tbh i think that's a big part of it, the lack of finality. due to the situation with the d*ckhead guy (lmao), they never got to have that conversation she'd like to have had. the construction of the song itself is so interesting, the way it races and loops up and down, like she just had to get that out of her head as fast as possible. they were so, so young at that time too, and when you're already in a tenuous situation and you've got all this insane outside pressure and then you keep not being able to figure things out properly, the ability to have that measured, honest conversation slips away. there's a sense of release in it almost, especially near the end, where the answer doesn't matter. she threw it out into the universe in a condensed, hypothetical form because that was the only way it could ever be asked.

#anonymous #letterbox #it is literally playing as i answer this lol #question #haylor #i'd also say 'i never publicly dated anyone' might've rubbed the wrong way but i can't remember when that was said #it might be too recent for it to have had any impact #but i keep thinking of that in reflection with 'perfect'

[highladyann]

A Court of Sorrow & Love (Modern AU)

Chapter 1.

Warnings: Angst, Language

Words: 2,3k.

Soooo this is my very first attempt of writing a fic. I have some ideas for this but not entirely sure how long this is gonna be. I'm also absolutely new to posting on tumblr, so be warned.

_____________________________________________________________

Feyre sighed. She leaned her head back against the wooden door behind her. This had probably been one of the worst days of her life. She looked around the hallway in front of her. Boxes on boxes filled with all sorts of clothes, personal belongings and memories were covering the cream colored walls. It still felt empty to Feyre. 

What was she supposed to do now?

The last couple of days she had kept her mind occupied with the funeral. Meetings with the mortician to plan everything. Coffin or urn burial? Which gravestone? Color, font, text? Death notice, yes or no? Personalized speech during the funeral? Specific songs? Flower arrangements? At some point Feyre had to remind herself that she was planning a funeral and not a wedding. This wasn’t a happy occasion. I shouldn’t worry about flowers so much. Who pays attention to those anyways?

The mortician was a friendly, kind and comforting elderly man. He had been very patient with Feyre. Explained everything over and over again when he realized that she had zoned out. Her mind wandering to some other place. He helped her with most decisions since she had absolutely no idea what to do. At some point she just nodded to most of his suggestions, hoping this would somehow get over with quickly. 

Organizing everything had been quite the task, she wasn't going to lie. Thanks to the mortician here. But it had kept her mind busy. Kept her mind from thinking about the inevitable: her life wasn't the same anymore. What even was her life now? She had absolutely no idea.

Feyre took a few steps away from the front door and into the hallway. Now that the funeral was over, what was she supposed to do? She was lost. There was no obvious task that she could throw herself into. Nothing to plan, nothing to organize, no one that needed to be called, no condolence cards that needed to be read anymore, no paperwork anymore, nothing. Simply nothing. 

She took some hesitant steps through the hallway past the boxes that contained her life inside and went into the kitchen on the left side of the hallway. She noticed her stomach grumbling. Maybe she could eat a little. She couldn’t remember having eaten anything today. So maybe yeah, food was a good idea. One step after the other, right?

The kitchen was clean. As if no one had used in a while. Feyre walked past the kitchen island. The tulips in a vase in the middle of it were looking absolutely dead. No one had taken care of them. Not the only dead thing in this house. 

She opened the big side-by-side fridge and sighed once more. She saw milk and some already brown bananas. One glance at the milk and she figured it had already been expired. She opened it anyways, smelled it and almost choked. Yeah, definitely expired.

The emptiness of the fridge was kind of mirroring Feyre’s inside. She felt absolutely hollow as well. Through all the planning and stress of the last couple of days she had completely forgotten to go grocery shopping. How could she forget that?

She started laughing out loud. How stupid. She had barely felt anything today. Throughout the whole funeral she had kept on her stoic expression. She couldn’t even shed a tear. There was nothing left inside of her to feel. And now an empty fridge caused her to feel something close to despair? Something is wrong with me. 

Feyre laughed even louder. Nothing was funny, she realized that. She was laughing out of absolute despair. At some point her laughing turned into coughing. She was suddenly having trouble breathing. She tried to calm herself and take deep breaths, but the air didn't seem to reach her lungs. Her right hand flew to her chest, she could feel her heartbeat increasing. Strange noises were coming out of her. Her whole body was suddenly in pain. 

Is it my time now?

Feyre looked around herself frantically. She couldn’t see anyone. Mom? Dad? Nesta? Elain? Anyone? Somebody needed to help her. In the far distance of her mind she imagined hearing the doorbell ring.

Feyre turned around, heading towards the front door. She felt her vision swimming. Her knees felt weak. Her body hurt. She still couldn’t breathe. She just couldn’t. She reached the hallway somehow. Stumbling against a pair of boxes. Her legs gave away under her and she fell onto the hard floor. The marble underneath her was cold and hard. The coldness rushed over her body in an instant. She couldn’t move anymore. She heard the person outside the front door asking for her. She couldn’t answer. Someone please help me. What is going on?

And then everything went black.  

......

It wasn’t black anymore. There was light. She could see it even through her closed eyelids. She remembered the pain she had felt. There wasn’t much left of it anymore. It was fading. She was coming back to herself, wasn’t she? She tried to take in her surroundings without moving or opening her eyes. She lay on a soft surface, couldn't quite decipher what it was. Maybe she took a box down with her when she fell? The temperature around her was warm. It was warmer than the hallway had been. She took a deep breath. Good. Air filled her lungs without any effort. She could breathe. 

„Still no change?“, she heard a deep, calming, male voice ask somewhere around her. She couldn’t quite make out the direction. Perhaps in front of her? 

„Cardiogram shows some more activity, Doctor Night. I think she might gain consciousness soon.“, answered a female voice. Her voice was quiet yet strong. Feyre figured it came from her left side. The voice of the woman was closer than the man’s voice. 

Feyre heard steps in front of her. They were coming closer. Reaching her right side. She still couldn’t bring herself to move. She kind of wanted to. But something inside of her told her to lay there for a little while longer. It seemed peaceful. 

„I have the results of the tests. Everything seems fine. No apparent physical reason. Must’ve been a panic attack that turned into a shock.“, the man next to her said. His voice was so rich, so soothing. Feyre could listen to it all day. 

„I can’t even image what she must’ve gone through“, said the female voice on her other side. 

Feyre’s little bubble of peace burst at those words. Oh yeah right. She had been through a lot. Her eyes fluttered. She tried to open them and inhaled deeply. 

„Miss Archeron? Can you hear me? My name is Doctor Night.“, she heard the man next to her say. There was a bright light in front of her eyes, moving around. 

Feyre managed to open her eyes completely. Her gaze following the little bulb of light in front of her. 

„Pupillary reflex seems good.“, the Doc said. Feyre turned towards the man on her right. Doctor Night. Wow. He was the most handsome man she ever laid eyes on. His face was gorgeous. Sharp contours, straight nose, black hair with a tint of blue in it. What mesmerized Feyre the most though were his eyes. They were such a deep shade of blue that they almost seemed violet. Contact lenses?

„Heart frequency is steady and looks good“, said the female voice. Feyre tore her eyes away from the handsome doctor and towards the woman on her left. She was equally gorgeous. Blonde, almost golden hair, full lips. Feyre eyed her up and down, taking in her full appearance. Wow again. She smiled when she noticed Feyre looking at her. 

„I’m Morrigan, your nurse. How are you feeling?“.

Feyre was lost. She didn’t know what to feel. The events of the day were a whole lot to take in. Fuck it, the events of the whole damn week had been a lot to take in.  And Feyre knew for sure, she hadn’t processed it. 

„I’ve been better.“, Feyre admitted. Her voice sounded hoarse. She cleared her throat. Her eyes staring at her hands. She was fidgeting her fingers. She was nervous. Why?

Doctor Night and Morrigan let out a light chuckle. Probably not sure if the situation allowed a laugh. Feyre watched Doctor Night. He was standing tall and firm next to her bed. He seemed so confident. Feyre was in awe. 

„You came here with the ambulance a couple of hours ago. Your neighbor found you unconscious in your house. You had a severe case of a panic attack that shut your body down completely and turned in to a shock. You’ve been unconscious for a little while. Don’t worry though, we ran a couple of tests and you seem physically fine.“, Doctor Night said and squeezed her right hand. A shiver ran through Feyre at the sudden sensation. It felt like sparks igniting between them. His hand was almost twice as big as hers. His fingers calloused yet soft. The back of his hand was veiny, his fingers long and slender. It was just a very brief touch, yet it felt like an eternity to Feyre. Get your shit together this isn’t a fairytale. 

As he moved his hand away Feyre almost let out a whimper. It had felt so good somehow. She couldn’t describe it. Their eyes met. He looked concerned and there was also something else. Something she couldn’t quite decipher. Understanding? He seemed to look straight into her soul. It was making her feel a little uncomfortable given the fact they were strangers and not alone in the room. 

Feyre tore her attention away from him. She thought about his words. Her neighbor had found her. Mr. Miller? He had been at the funeral with his wife, sitting in the last row. She remembered that Mrs. Miller had shed a few tears. Why had he come over?

„Your neighbor explained to us that you’ve been through quite a lot of stress the last couple of days. It has probably been too much for your body.“, Morrigan said and caught Feyre’s attention.   

Feyre didn’t know what to say. She remembered the beginning of a panic attack in the kitchen when she had found out that the fridge was empty. It had caused her to laugh and then to break down. She warily remembered the doorbell and that she stumbled into the hallway. After that everything had turned black. It must have been Mr. Miller at the door. 

„We would like to keep you here overnight just to make sure you’re fine and your body gets its much needed rest.“, Doctor Night said with his deep, addicting voice. She could only stare down at her hands. Everything suddenly felt too much. She wanted to be alone. Needed to be alone. 

Feyre nodded, not being able to look up and meet either of the eyes watching her. 

„Doctor Night to the ER, Doctor Night to the ER!“, said a distant voice. Feyre realized it was coming from the speakers. She could hear him swear under his breath and head towards the door of her room. 

„If you need anything just call for Nurse Morrigan or me or just press the button to your right, okay?“, he asked her on his way out. Feyre only managed to nod. From the corner of her eye she saw him hesitating before heading out of her room. 

Morrigan was handling some of the machines next to Feyre’s bed. „Do you want us to call anyone?“, she asked Feyre and gave her a reassuring smile when Feyre looked up to meet her eyes.  

„No, thank you.“, Feyre answered. Her eyes closing. She sighed. Who would you want to call anyway?

„Alright, I’ll check on you in a bit okay? Like Doctor Night said, feel free to call for us, if you need anything. I’ll ask someone to bring you a pair of fresh and comfier clothes for the night.“, Morrigan said and turned around, heading towards the door. 

Feyre nodded and just then realized that she was wearing one of those extremely unlikeable hospital gowns. She spotted her own clothes neatly folded on one of the chairs at the back of the room. Straight from black funeral clothes to white hospital ones. Way to go, girl. 

The door closed behind the nurse and Feyre was alone. She hid her face in her hands and took a deep breath. She sobbed, allowing herself to feel her emotions. She started to cry silently, her body shaking. It felt like the pressure of the last days fell off her. Her breakdown from earlier had been inevitable. She had been on the edge over the last days. She had barely eaten and had barely slept. At some point her body had to shut down. The stay in the hospital would do her good. She needed the rest for the moment. The world outside the hospital and reality would come at her soon enough.

The reality that she had just buried her whole family.

#feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #acotar #feyre acotar #sarah j maas #acomaf #acowar

[fennecthunderfox]

First Update of the Year I Guess

I tend to appear and disappear without warning, so I figured perhaps I should update people on my progress on things and my plans for them. 

First off- I know I complain about this a lot in comic descriptions- but part of the reason why it's been taking me so long to make any kind of art in general is because of mandatory overtime at work. We have been on mandatory overtime for over 2 years at this point. I have been real low-energy because of that. With that fact out of the way, I'm going to try not to talk about it anymore cause I complain too much about it.

  An upcoming blockade to art progress is a wedding (for a family member) and then I'm going to try to get my wisdom teeth out sometime in February. I'll be taking a leave of absence from work during this time, but considering I'll be recovering from a surgery, I don't know if I can be super productive in Feb. Speaking of comics, let's move on to the plans for the comics.

DEFINITELY NOT DELTARUNE:

Defnodel is back to being my top priority... when I actually have time and energy to work on it. I have some amount of determination to finally finish chapter 3 before the end of this year. Which is also along the lines of what I said last year, but never mind all that. I'm somewhat torn on how to do the updates for it. I liked it better when I could draw and post a page Saturday morning after work. I'll see if I can ease myself back into a weekly update schedule once I feel normal after my surgery again.

  VESSELTALE

The problem with Vesseltale right now is that where it's currently paused is the best place to keep it on pause until I can get back into some form of routine with art again. It sucks cause it's been stuck for so long already, but if I did my sporadic updates with VT as I've been doing with Defnodel it may be more annoying to have large gaps in updates. That said I'm open to feedback. If you think any progress is good progress I can try to work on VT in tandem with Defnodel. Defnodel would still take priority, however.

ANIMATICS

I don't think many people follow me for animatics, but I have a lot of ideas in my head. "The Ram Guy" was a fun one to make and I have ideas for other ways to intertwine Distractible audio with Undertale and Deltarune characters. Why? I listen to Distractible at work and imagining someone from the cast raging about a fridge or telling chaotic childhood stories makes work more fun. (I also listen to GO! and am itching to make something from the cricket primer but I'm stuck on who to cast for the roles.)

It's been so long since I've done a music video animatic, but I have plans to do some excerpts of songs at some point and possibly even a full music video. But that's uh... optimistic for me all things considered. I can't even update a comic consistently, so no one expect big animatics. Except for one that I've been trying to make for the UT anniversary for literally 2 years now. Maybe if I had a proper animation program it wouldn't be so difficult (I use fire alpaca and the default windows movie maker for animatics currently).

IN CONCLUSION

I have too many things I WANT to do and not enough dopamine to motivate me to do it. But I haven't given up on anything yet. As of now, I fully intend to continue the comics, animatics, and art in general.

As always I am eternally grateful for everyone's patience with me. Thank you for listening.

#Fenn Speaks #I don't really talk about My UTDR comics on main much so this may be confusing to some. #Also the overtime situation has improved as we went from 47 or 50 hour work weeks to only 45 hours a week #Unless there's a holiday then it's a 32 hour week since we can't get OT pay those weeks #I like how I say I won't complain about it anymore and then continue complaining in my tags