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#will be back for geeked week! let me know if anything interesting happens i guess
youssefguedira · 3 years
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i think i am going to take a small break
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forcebewitht · 3 years
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Force's Disney Geek Master Theory: Why Twisted Wonderland Is Called Twisted Wonderland
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We have all grown to know and love various Disney characters over the years, correct? Yet, I believe a lot of us can argue that not many characters have the same effect on us even as adults today as the Villains do within their respective movies. In the game Disney: Twisted Wonderland as we all know and love, the select boys to Overblot are supposed to have the "souls" of their Villain counterparts, right? But...why is it called "Twisted" Wonderland, then? The truth may lie within something that has been right in front of us all along, my friends: the meaning of a mirror. Ready to buckle in for this one? If so, then here we go!
We have seen all of these guys share character traits, looks, etc with their Disney counterparts, correct? Well, what if I were to tell you that things in terms of the "main" guys that we are supposed to pay attention to aren't exactly what they seem? This could be analyzed in a few different ways, honestly, yet the most prominent way is this: the differences in their personalities- they are reversed. Let us take this bit by bit, shall we?
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Ah, yes. The Queen Of Hearts. The ranting, raging, bundle of red, black, and gold we all know and love. (or else heads would roll, I'm sure) One of the things that everybody knows about her is that she's extremely hellbent on the crazy rules that she makes up and is prone to anger honestly very easily. Yeah, you can connect that to Riddle- but think about it for a second. While that rage and the rule thing is still there, it isn't as prominent with him as it was with her, is it? With the Queen of Hearts, her whole "issue" was that she wished to make everybody listen to her and follow her every command- but Riddle was essentially always following the rules of another- not his own. This seemed to make Riddle a little more calm most of the time in terms of how he handled and oversaw things. It wasn't until he actually Overblotted that the "listen to me and only me" thing came out- buuuuuuttttttt I'll get to that part in a bit.
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Next: Leona and Scar. While we honestly didn't get to see a lot of what went on behind the scenes in the Outlands in terms of how Scar even met the hyenas to begin with at all, one thing can honestly be said- Scar worked very hard to get where he was. I mean, it's not like you can get an entire pack of rabid, hungry hyenas onto your side in the course of a single day, or maybe even a week (especially as a lion, no less). No, something to that extreme takes careful planning, wording, and stringing along to ensure that nothing goes wrong along the way. The way Scar spoke to Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed made it seem as though he had known them for a looooonngggg time before this- that's where that behind the scenes planning comes in. And then...you have Leona. Leona, from what we can tell in Chapter 2, planned the idea for the "endgame" alright- but he didn't actually act upon any of the plan for himself. Ruggie did. Even in the Lion King, we see that Scar had no problems whatsoever getting his paws dirty a little within his own scheme to take his "rightful place" at the head of Pride Rock- but Leona quite honestly did not a thing once Ruggie was in motion. See where this is starting to head?
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Azul and Ursula. Ursula, the Disney baddie queen of my heart Ursula, the Sea Witch. She was known all around the ocean floor for helping out poor little merfolk in secret, wasn't she? Yet, nobody ever really seemed to catch wind of the whole "her turning those who didn't quite fit the bill into polyps" thing, did they? That was one of the things that made her such a honest threat to Ariel herself- because Ursula was cunning. She did things behind the scenes, and sure- we could catch onto it out in the audience (annnddd maybe Sebastian and Flounder as well), but nobody else really seemed to, right? Azul is the complete opposite in this standpoint. He instills direct fear into his "workers" and those even beyond and within his dorm. Like- basically most knew that this dude was bad news to begin with. Azul, mostly, seemed to hide his cunning facade behind a fake yet still seemingly "soft and genuine" smile and act. But all in all, he didn't really attempt to "hide" anything- hell, he even proclaimed his entire plan of what everyone with those things on their heads were gonna do for him in the open! At least when Ursula sang as Vanessa, she was in an almost perfectly enclosed room with nobody else around.
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Jamil and Jafar. This comparison here, given what occurs in the movie Aladdin, is honestly one of the biggest possible indicators of this reoccuring theme I shall clarify in a bit. Jafar, while being sneaky, was known for being a more "out there" Disney Villain in terms of his personality alongside that of his partner Iago in the film. He would smile in a sinister way, he would crack jokes out in the open, and let us not forget his crazed yet oddly interesting laughter. Jamil? He's the exact opposite. Given his past and what he has had to dealt with growing up with Kalim, he is much more reserved and barely releases a chuckle or cracks a smile at all. His personality is a lot more repressed than that of Jafar himself throughout the film. Jamil has been so used to having to hold himself back thanks to his parents in favor of Kalim's family, he doesn't seem to know how to "let go" whatsoever. Yet Jafar, while still maintaining that sneaky side of him as well, has no problems whatsoever letting a little hang loose whenever he so chooses to.
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Vil and the Evil Queen. This one honestly may be a bit more self explanatory than the others- but the difference between these two is their expressions of themselves. The Evil Queen was the very first animated counted Disney Villain within Disney's history- yet, she barely had any lines throughout the film at all. Her ranges of expression were almost little to none thanks to the era in which the movie was released in- but she always looked like she was pissed, huh? Vil is the exact opposite of her in this sense. He is able to fully express himself through his various facial expressions, theatrical abilities, musical experiences, fashion style, and even how he behaves. Vil is able to do so much more than the Evil Queen did or could do within that time period, that it's almost a little staggering if you fully picture it.
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Idia and Hades. Now, now. We haven't honestly seen too much of the flaming blue boy yet in TWST, but one thing is apparent here right off the bat- in terms of his personality? He is the exact opposite of Hades. Idia is much like Jamil but to a more "geek" degree- he's extremely introverted, shy, a bit snippy, yet mainly keeps to himself and his gaming tech. Hades is most often renowned as the Disney Villain with the most personality- and the best humor. Hades has no problem whatsoever being "out there" with his crazy puns, sassy remarks, anger, and even mocking behavior. I mean, please, guys- I haven't been this choked up since I got a hunk of moussaka caught in my throat!
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Finally, Malleus and Maleficent. Ooooohoooooooo boy. We have to count out the live action movie Maleficent for this one (sorry horned queen fans). One thing that basically everybody even with their toe in the water in that of Disney movies kind of knows this fact- Maleficent is c r u el. She's got a bizarre set of dark powers and an even blacker heart than that. Hell, we basically had to "soften her up" a little bit in Maleficent thanks to just how seemingly irredeemable her character is in that of Sleeping Beauty. I mean, c'mon now- cursing an infant? And we get no explanation for that in the original? C'mon, now. Anyways, Malleus? As we all can tell by now, this dude is the compleeettteeeeeee opposite. Sure, he has those repressed bits here and there too, but it is evident that this dude has a heart crying out for the MC and it is big, bold, and golden to the core once you look past how he looks. He sent the MC a card for winter break, for crying out loud. Yeah, let me know the next time you see Maleficent do that smh.
Now, I have avoided using a certain word up until this point to see if anybody could catch on to what exactly is happening here. Did you figure it out? Reverse. The boys that either have Overblotted already or intend to Overblot soon stop holding out on us, Chapter 6 have had the exact opposite personalities compared to that of their Villain counterpart- until one prime point in their "character arcs". Their Overblot.
Riddle wished to have all bow before him and obey his rules.
Leona led his entire dorm into ruin and nearly sanded away the entire school in the process.
Azul let himself finally free of his personal shackles entirely and "took what was his".
Jamil finally let himself go and opened up more in his personality, almost seeming to be driven insane in the process.
Vil wanted to become the most beautiful one of all and would kill anyone within the way of that goal without any hesitation whatsoever.
The moment that the boys' Overblotted, that was the exact moment when the "soul" of their Disney Villain counterpart took control. Keeping that idea in mind, that should mean that this will happen in the upcoming chapters and their Overblots:
Idia will show off all of the personality, powers, and intelligence that he has been keeping down within this introverted self of his.
Malleus will become so broken by being left out and alone in the cold for the final time that he will turn into a completely cruel Fae and possibly nearly kill either the MC or the representation of Prince Philip within that Chapter in the process.
(Hello, my dear Readers! Guess who is trying to get back into her bigger pieces of writing? This gal right here~ feel free to drop a comment and tell me what you think of this theory- I'd love to hear your thoughts! 💕)
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emilyblame · 2 years
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ok, kids, here we go!
so, for those of you who may not remember, around a week ago i asked you if you would fill a survey about Waterparks for me. the questions were:
1. which ablum cycle was the band on when you started listening?
2. which one is your favorite EP or album?
3. pick your top 5 favorite songs.
i didn't tell you then, but the main questions i wanted to answer with this survey were:
1. which is the fan favorite album?
2. when did you guys started listening to Waterparks? (just out of curiosity)
3. is there an asociation between the cycle you started listening to the band and which your favorite album is?
4. which song is the fan favorite? (again, just curious)
before going right into it, i wanted to thank all of you who participated in this. this was super fun to watch happen in real time (yes, i checked the results every day.) i was expecting maybe ~40 people to fill this out, but there was a total of 174 people who filled this (including me). that’s so many of you taking time off your day to do something kinda silly, so thank you so much.
ok, let’s go through my questions one by one! i made charts, obviously.
1. which is the fan favorite album?
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not gonna lie, i thought for sure it was gonna be Entertainment. i also thought GH was gonna get more love than Fandom. guess i was wrong left and right with this one huh. but it’s pretty much self-explanatory: you guys voted, Double Dare won. honestly, i think this the order most people would choose the albums from most to least favorite, right? i mean, i wouldn’t, i would say: Entertaiment, Fandom, DD, GH, main studio albums, let’s forget for a second about all the other things. but, no? where was i going with this? nevermind.
2. when did you guys started listening to Waterparks?
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i was surprised to see two people have been here since before Equal Vision. fucking war heroes. like, how did you put up with all the shit for so long? anyway! most of us showed up during the Entertainment cycle. which makes sense, i think, since it’s around the time they became more popular. not many people in this last cycle, but to be fair it’s only just starting, so...
3. is there an asociation between the cycle you started listening to the band and which your favorite album is?
now this is where it gets interesting! i made a heatmap of cycle and album, here:
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you have cycle on the y-axis (vertical) and album on the x-axis (horizontal). as you can see on the legend (number of votes), the darkest blue means 0 votes, and the lighter the blue gets, the more votes that particular combination got. now, this can totally be a coincidence (i haven’t done any actual statistics analysis on this) but most people who started listening to Waterparks over the Double Dare cycle, chose Double Dare as their favorite album. we can see the same thing kinda happening with Entertainment too. and at the very least i find that fascinating. like, i now people say this all the time, that your favorite album is the first one you heard, or the one they were touring-- but to actually see numbers, like, a tangible sorta proof that fuck yeah it could be true. i don’t know, i’m geeking out a bit about it tbh.
moving on! last one!
4. which song is the fan favorite?
now this one i had already asked before, but it was different: back then i made you choose your favorite song from each release without restricting it to one song per album. so it was a little over the place (you can check it here if you weren’t around or forgot it existed). now, however, i asked you guys to pick 5 songs, no more, no less, out of e v e r y single song ever released (i even put the demo album there, which technically isn’t an official release, but Glitter Times is in my top 5 and i make the rules here (?)). here’s what happened:
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(you’re gonna have to really zoom in this bitch if you wanna see anything). i’ll tell you guys what the top 5 were, but basically we’re all still in love with Not Warriors coming in number one with 23% of total votes. in close second came Rare with 20.7%. tied in third place are Take Her To The Moon, It Follows, and Fuzzy, with 16.7% of total votes. in fourth place Royal with 16.1% (love of my life.) and finally Gloom Boys with 15.5% of total votes. fun note: Pink and Peach came tied in 6th by literally 2 votes. i was a little shocked that Paranoid didn’t get any love at all, i thought it would win something. i think it was around Tuesday? maybe? Magnetic was getting all the votes but then it kinda stayed there where it is now and Fuzzy took the lead within GH. i’m also surprised about It Follows, that’s a deep cut.
general final note: i kinda wonder what would’ve happened if we’ve done this outside of tumblr. like, cross-social-media-fandom. but i’m not gonna lie, i’m scared of twitter. so again, thank you so much to everyone who participated, and if anybody has any questions or comments, my inbox is open. let’s make this fun! just, you know? be nice.
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staplernpaper · 3 years
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Harvey who (Spencer Reid x reader)
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Summary: Spencer accidentally overhears your conversation with Penelope. After hearing the conversation, he thinks you're dating a man named Harvey. But Harvey isn't exactly what spencer thinks he is.
Word count: 3.7k
Warnings: Mentions of divorce
Author note: Ten points if you can guess whose Harvey. What did the nut say while chasing the other nut, I'm a cashew.
It was really rare for Spencer to befriend people within his age range. You however were one of those few exceptions. Your friendship started out as work colleague status which eventually blossomed into a friend outside of work status. Even though that was expected when joining the BAU; when someone new joins they slowly integrate into the family. This was different. Since you were both close in age, you never really saw him as a kid but rather an equal. It was refreshing on his part.
Being in the same age range wasn't the only reason he considered you as a friend. Turns out you are very similar to him in terms of personality and preferences. You both didn't enjoy spending your weekends at noisy clubs but rather enjoy the silence of your home with a good book in hand. You both shared a love of sci-fi shows, his vast knowledge made movie nights more fun as he'd be able to point out the fiction from facts. His rambles were one of the many things you looked forward to at work, so when word got out that you actually enjoy hearing it, he'd obviously started rambling more during your hangouts.
While you were close with Spencer, he obviously wasn't your only friend on the team. You considered everyone on the team to be your friend, but other than Spencer you'd also considered Penelope to be another close friend. While he and you shared some interests, there are just some things that he doesn't understand. Especially newer and recent pop culture. So whenever you needed to geek out on a new video game or tv show, you'd usually talk to her. Because of this, it was a really common occurrence for you to run away to the 'Batcave' during lunch hour. Which exactly was what is happening right now.
For the past week, you've been hanging out a lot with Penelope. During your lunch hour, you'd either go to the 'Batcave' to hang out or go out to have lunch with just the two of you. Spencer was obviously saddened by this cause he was starting to miss being by your side. Of course, he didn't want to intrude on your Garcia time. Therefore, he thought it would be a good idea to buy your favourite pastries and beverage from your favourite café. He wanted to see you just for a bit and see your smile. Seeing that smile would really make his day. So with drinks and pastries in hand, he made his way to the 'Batcave'. He had food for you, him, and Penelope (he didn't want to leave her out).
As he was approaching the room, he could somewhat hear your conversation. However, as he got closer that's when he could truly hear the words that were being uttered. He stopped on a dead track. For what he heard knocked him out of his mismatched socks.
"Ahhh!!! Pen I gave Harvey the bouquet of flowers yesterday. We're officially dating"
" That's so good for Kitten!!! You've been gushing about that doctor all week"
Spencer was shocked. Never had you mentioned that you were seeing someone else. Let alone mentioned that you were interested in a 'Harvey'. Hearing this made his stomach turned. But he really didn't know why. Shouldn't he feel happy for you? You finally found someone who could potentially be a partner that you could spend your whole life with. However he couldn't help but think, where would he be in this equation. Will you have to forgo your friendship to spend time with this Harvey. His brain was running through the many possibilities that he didn't hear the door opening.
" Oh hey Spencie, glad to see you here," you remarked. There you stood at the door with those beautiful (y/e/c) eyes staring back at him.
"Hi there (y/n), I umm.. decided to go to that café you liked to pick up some coffee. While I was there I thought I'd also pick some pastries and drinks for you and Penelope. Uh here you go." he stated as handed the foods and beverages to you. Judging by your smile, you were very delighted by this surprise. You handed Garcia her drink and food.
"Ohh Spencer you are truly a sweetheart" Garcia thanked him. She had also offered Spencer to join them. A part of him wanted to, this was finally a chance to be with you. But another part of him dreaded it, for he was afraid that if he joined the topic of conversation would be about this Harvey. Weighing out the odds he declined Garcia offer.
" I'd really like to but I can't. Derek asked if I could help him with his paperwork umm.. as he seems to be a bit behind so I ahh.. really need to get back to work. I'll see you later." he fumbled with his words as he tried to come up with a good enough excuse. Hopefully, Derek would be willing to play along later.
" Okie Dokie then I'll see you later then. Bye-bye," you responded with a wave. Spencer returned the wave and made his way out of the room. As soon as he was out of your sight, he made a dash for it. Maybe Emily or Derek would know more about this 'Harvey'.
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Since lunch hour was almost over he knew he could find them at their respective desks soon. He took a seat at his desk while waiting for either Morgan or Emily. While waiting, his brain kept running through the many possibilities of what this 'Harvey' guy is like. What made you attracted to him. Was it his looks? His Personality? How did you meet? He kept asking himself all these questions, but of course, his train of thought would be disturbed.
"Umm Spencer, you okay?" Emily concerned seeing him stare into space, it was definitely out of character for him.
Even though Spencer's first intention was to ask Emily and/or Derek about Harvey, the rational side of his brain thought that this was a bad idea. This is your love life, maybe he shouldn't be such a busy body. "Oh, it's nothing” Spencer tried to brush it off maybe he really shouldn’t pry into your love life.
Even though Emily didn’t buy it she didn’t want to pry him further. He’ll tell when he's ready. But of course, Spencer's brain wouldn't let him rest. How long have you been dating? What if you got married to 'Harvey'? Oh, screw it!!!
“Has (y/n) mentioned seeing anyone?” Spencer hesitantly asked Emily
“No. Not That I'm aware of”
Spencer was obviously saddened by this. He was hoping that someone other than Penelope would have intel on Harvey.
"Why is she seeing someone?" Emily was truly shocked. Seeing the way Spencer and you interacted, she thought you two would have a major crush on one another. I mean It was pretty obvious on Spencer's part.
" I mean I'm not too sure. I overheard her conversation with Penelope..." Spencer explained further the details he heard to Emily.
As soon as Spencer finished explaining to Emily, Derek made his appearance. What perfect timing.
" What you two gossiping about?" Derek inquired. Seeing Emily and Spencer so close to each other meant that whatever they were talking about had to be juicy.
" A guy named Harvey stole Spencer's chance on asking (y/n) out" Even though she knew Spencer was having an internal meltdown on this situation, she couldn't help but tease him.
" Hey, I don't have a crush on (y/n). I just wanted to know if either knew more about Harvey. So far the only thing I know is that he's a doctor "
" Wait, I think I know who this 'Harvey' guy is." As soon as Derek stated those words Spencer turned his head and focused towards him.
Spencer was shocked. I mean Emily didn't know anything about Harvey. The girls of the BAU rarely kept secrets from each other. How would Derek know? Or was he just trying to trick him the way most older brothers do to their younger siblings?
" Yeah if I'm not mistaken he's a doctor who works in a clinic. Penelope was telling me how (y/n) would totally be interested in a guy like him. From what she said he's a kind-hearted coffee addict who's into jazz and model planes"
Recalling back from the conversation, Penelope did mention that he was a doctor. Therefore, the Harvey that Derek was telling them had to be the same Harvey he overheard. This was exactly what Spencer wanted, he wanted to know more about Harvey. He got what he wanted yet he felt despaired by this info. But why?
His sad facial expression was obvious to Derek and Emily. You didn't need to be a profiler to be able to see it.
" Hey, Spence don't be sad. Maybe this relationship won't last and then you'll have another chance to ask her out" Emily joked trying her best to reassure him.
" For the last time, I don't have a crush on (y/n). Sure I'm a little bit sad that we won't get to hang out like we used BUT I'm not sad that she finally found a partner. A partner that will spend their whole life making her happy" Spencer tried to convince Derek and Emily. But the way he was explaining it was as if he was also trying to convince himself.
" Really?" Derek raised an eyebrow. He obviously wasn't convinced.
" Yes. My feelings to her are 100% platonic" trying to further convince them.
" Your sad at the idea that she'd likely spend less time with you right?" Derek asked Spencer.
" Yes"
" Why would you be sad in the first place. You weren't sad when JJ started spending less time with you when she and William started to get serious"
" That's different. The dynamic that I have with JJ is different from the dynamic I have with (y/n)"
" Oh really, how so?" a smug tone was now evident in Derek's voice.
" I don't know," Spencer was somewhat frustrated with this interrogation that Derek was conducting.
" The way I see it is your jealous of the idea of her spending time with someone else because you want her to use that time with you"
" That doesn't prove that I have a crush on her," Spencer tried to rebuttal.
" That's not the only thing pretty boy, you also bought drinks and foods for her just so you could spend time with her. You spend most of your time talking and thinking about her. Which is exactly what we're doing right now," Derek continued listing all the other signs that proved that Spencer had a crush on you.
" Well, there you go. All the signs of a crush. Therefore you have hots for (y/n)," Derek teased Spencer.
Maybe Derek was right. Maybe he did have a crush on you.
Shocked at the newfound feelings he had for you, he decided to take a sip of the coffee he bought. He stopped drinking when he realized that this wasn't his drink, but rather Gracia's. He was contemplating if he should return it or wait for Garcia to retrieve her rightful drink. However, since it's been a good 15 minutes since his visit to Garcia's office, he knew he would have to make the first move.
" I'll be right back. I accidentally took Garcia's drink."
Once spencer was out of hearing range, Emily started her own little interrogation.
" Hey! I thought we ALL agreed that (ship name) should and will happen. It was Garcia who came up with the name for goodness sake. Why would she Garcia set (y/n) with somebody else?"
" Trust me Harvey is not who you think he is"
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At this point in time, he thought all conversations of Harvey would halt. He was so wrong. But what he heard this time, made him sick to his stomach.
" If I play my cards right, I should be able to propose in roughly two weeks. After proposing we'll get married after three days. Then I'll have Harvey as my beloved husband" Your chipper voice most likely reflected the immense joy that you were feeling. This was such a huge contrast to what he was feeling. He had this really uneasy feeling in his stomach. A sense of hopelessness, anguish and despair took over his body.
This was a bad idea. You've only just started officially dating yesterday but now you have already planned to get married in less than a month. In their line of work, you should have known better than jumping into a relationship like that.
For a second he thought that this was simply jealousy speaking. Maybe it wasn't right to interfere. But after a second thought, he knew that this was crazy. He will try to talk you out of this little senseless escapade later. For now, he'd stick to his original plan
With a knock on the door, he made his entrance. He handed Penelope her correct drink and she returned his back. Thank whatever deities existed that prevented Penelope from taking a sip from spencer's coffee.
" Hey Spencie, since I should be getting back to my desk let's walk back together" Before even waiting for a response, you instantly made your way next to him. You both said your goodbyes to Garcia and made your way back to your desk.
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Since you planned on proposing to Harvey in two weeks, he knew he had to confront you today and the sooner the better. Throughout the whole day, Spencer has been meaning to talk to you. First, it was during your walk back to the desks. He thought he could broach the subject, however, since it was the end of lunch hour a whole slew of people was in the halls. He couldn't have a private conversation with you.
He made another attempt when he saw you alone in the break room. Even though the break room had an open concept, it was already 5pm therefore half of the people on this floor had already left. Though he wanted to have this conversation in private, this opportunity was better than nothing. He was about to get up from his desk but then he saw Anderson making his way to the break room. He then started a conversation with thus ruining his chances to talk to you ALONE in the break room.
Alright, third times the charm. There he stood outside the door of your apartment. He was kind of hoping you wouldn't be home however he could see the light coming through from under the door and hear your footsteps from inside. He was practically shaking like a leaf, his hands were clammy and rehearsing was he was going to say under his breath. It's now or never.
DING DONG
Once he rang the doorbell, his heart had begun pounding rapidly and a sense of doom began to surface. A part of him wanted to make a run for it, in fact, he was about to make a run for it. But then the door opened.
" Hey Spencie, surprise to see you here. What brings you here at night?" Spencer had been practising on what he was going to say to you the whole day. Before reaching your apartment he had already decided which version of the speech he wanted to say. But now standing here and seeing you in your pyjamas, he ended up fumbling with his sentences. It was a mess.
Your face contorted in confusion, no denying you were puzzled at the words Spencer was trying to say. However, since you were only wearing your pyjamas and still standing at the door, the night air started nipping at your skin. Since the cold was starting to get to you, you invited Spencer inside. Hopefully, he'll be able to properly compose his word inside.
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Spencer was currently sitting on your couch while you were in the kitchen brewing up some coffee. He felt somewhat defeated since he couldn't get the right words out. His shaking hands were the evidence of his nervousness. He needed to calm down.
Breathe in
Breathe out...
Breathe in
Breathe out...
You did always say the breathing exercises did help calm your nerves. Now he was a little bit more calmed and composed. His hands were a little bit shaky but definitely more steady. Rehearsing what he was going to say, he felt like he was ready. He planned to say something around these lines:
1. Tell her what you overheard. Don't forget to apologize for listening to their private conversation.
2. Congratulate you on your new relationship.
3. Try to find out more about Harvey. Maybe she'll tell him something about the relationship that is a major red flag (besides the upcoming proposal)
4. Tell her about overhearing her wanting to propose. Don't forget to apologize again for snooping on a private conversation.
5. Try to put a stop to the engagement. Statistical facts would help to suede her to not propose.
In the many versions of his speech, he did include confessing his feelings but decided against it. It would have been selfish of him to do so. If you did find your true love he'll try to support you the best he can, even if it kills him. But he definitely could not support you in getting married so soon into a relationship. Even if he didn't have feelings for you he would still try to talk you out of it; it was a crazy idea in general.
His internal speech rehearsal was interrupted when he heard the door's of the kitchen opening and the closing. You made your way to the couch with two mugs in hand, you handed spencer's his coffee and set yours onto the coffee table.
" At first I thought your surprise appearance was because you wanted to hang out. But seeing you agitated and fumbling with your words, there's obviously something you want to tell me," Although your voice was calm and soothing, he couldn't help but feel like he was being called out, it just made him nervous.
Nervous to the point where he decided to forgo his original plan
" You can't marry him!!!" Spencer burst out to you.
" I'm sorry, Marry? Marry who exactly?"
" Harvey. I sorry but I overhear your conversation with Garcia earlier. I heard how to were going to propose to Harvey in two weeks"
"Spencer," You called his name in order to stop him. it didn't work.
"From what I heard you only began officially dating yesterday. Also congratulations to that"
"Spencer"
"But I think it's way too soon to propose"
"Spencer"
"Did you know that research surveyed 3000 people, those that dated one to two years dropped their likelihood of divorce by 20 percent at any given time point and those who dated three or more dropped to 50 percent. And..."
" SPENCER!!!"
Spencer stopped his ramble midway. The room became silent. But then your laughter broke said silence.
" Spencer I think you need a little bit more context," you said while rubbing the tears from your little laughing session. "I think instead of telling you maybe you should meet Harvey"
You went to your room to retrieve your laptop to bring it to the living room. Then, you made him sit right next to you so he could see your screen. After clicking on an icon of a chicken on your desktop, the screen opened up to a quaint tune played and the word 'Stardew Valley' appeared. At this point, Spencer was already able to piece it together.
On the screen, your farmer woke up from their bed
HARVEY
Then you had your farmer water the crops that were growing
IS
Then your farmer made their way to the town
The farmer then heads to the clinic. You then click on a brown hair character.
A
"Spencer say hi to Harvey"
On the screen out pops out a dialogue box. Next to the dialogue was a pixelated art of a man with a moustache and glasses. At the bottom of the image was the name of the character: Harvey.
VIDEOGAME CHARACTER
Harvey is a videogame character
Spencer felt a wave of embarrassment wave throughout his body. This moment could easily topple the ranks of Spencer's other embarrassing moments.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Judging by the prominent blush on his face and the lack of eye-contact, you could tell that he was embarrassed by this predicament.
" So let me get this straight, you thought I was gonna marry someone I've only been dating for less than a month. And you came here to talk me out of it?" confirmation of his action would help understand this situation better. Plus it was cute to see him blush.
" Yes," he answered timidly.
" In our line of work, I don't think so," hopefully a joke would bring back his spirits.
" That's what I thought of too" Spencer chuckled.
The feeling of comfort was present in the room. Now would be a perfect time, here goes.
" You wanna know why out of all the other town's folks, Harvey was the one I choose"
Spencer gave you a confused look
"Cause he's one who's the most like you. You're both shy, love your coffee way too much and plus you kinda look alike. I guess what I'm trying to say is the reason I'm dating Harvey is cause he's just like you. And I uhh.... really wanna date you cause I like you," now it was your turn to avoid eye contact and fumble with your words.
Throughout your confession, Spencer just sat there quietly with his mouth agape. " I completely understand if you don't feel the same, we can continue to be just friends if you want..." you continued on using whatever reassurance needed to be said in order to save your friendship.
Your little ramble stopped when Spencer uttered these beautiful words:
" I feel the same way. I like you too"
With the two of you knowing your true feelings for one another, you looked at each other with a loving look. "So now that I know I don't have to compete with Harvey, How would you like to go out on a date with me?" Spencer asked.
" I'd loved to go on a date with you"
249 notes · View notes
marky4l · 3 years
Text
Step by Step / Mark Lee
step by step / mkl
pairing: Mark Lee x Reader
From an innocent childhood friendship to a juvenile high school rivalry to a forced pairing for a Psychology paper, it seems you and Mark just can’t avoid each other. But something’s a little different now.
genre: fluff, angst (a little bit), suggestive themes, childhood friends (barely mentioned!) to enemies to lovers, college!au
notes: lia yeonjun chan hyuck jeno all make tiny appearances 
word count: 17.2k 
hi!!! this is my first work nd I’m really excited to put this out I’d looove if you could give it a read :^) hound me on my inbox if u wanna i take anything
“Remember when we were best friends in fifth grade?”
His voice is a little quiet, and there’s a very obvious undertone of boredom, but you hum softly anyway, nodding, as if to question why you would ever forget. Fifth grade was a suburban brew of Star Wars marathons, figuring out the world, and Harry Potter merchandise littering your house. Fifth grade was lemonade and oatmeal, knitted sweaters, and sneaking into your mom’s vanity to swipe her makeup. And fifth grade was Mark—bright eyed, geeky Mark, with his Death Star replica and weird electronica music. 
Mark, who had an affinity with Troy from High School Musical and Spiderman, and wanted to be just like them. Mark, who would show up grinning to your front door everyday, pie dish in his nimble grip. He was the one who had opened a lemonade stand at the corner of your block so he could buy you the Gryffindor scarf you’d been nagging your mom about the entire holiday season. He was the one who learned the chords to your favorite Jonas Brothers song and sang it to you each time you requested it.
“Yes, I do,” you answer instead, clearing your throat. 
You attempt to push down all the memories that just ran through your head and adjust the grip you have on your pen. “Well,” Mark continues, “that was ages ago. Beats me why it ever happened.” 
The timidity is replaced with a tidal wave of teasing, and the annoyance that had disappeared is beginning to crawl all over you. Again. You roll your eyes and pull up the slides your professor had assigned. “Beats me why we even ended up in the same university, let alone the same class,” you jab, “if you thought I forgot about how you outright failed our Spanish classes in high school, I didn’t.”
Your friendship with Mark had reached its unfortunate demise to the hands of middle school, where you had branched out with your interests and began to stick to societal (as societal as school can get) norms. He had joined the geeky, cool kids; you hadn’t joined a specific social circle, but you had a best friend, Lia, and you were generally good with everybody. 
Somehow, despite you both being in good graces with everyone, you had a deep-seated dislike for one another that stemmed from an intense academic rivalry. Specifically, the competition to become school council president. That had ended now, seeing as though you were both in college, but the abrasiveness of your banter had never worn off.
“Oh, because you were so good at Physics?” he says, voice even. His brow is raised. “We all have our strong suits, you know. You’re one to talk.” You decide to pay him no mind, instead jotting down the criteria for your final project in Psychology 1—something about the stages of grief. You’re supposed to relate it to a different human process and show how they fit with one another. 
It’s absolute fucking bullshit, and the fact that Mark Lee became your partner among a hundred students is beyond you. Absolutely beyond you. 
He nears your screen, reading the content of your project, eyes squinted—you’d noticed his lack of decent eyesight years ago, but it seemingly hadn’t improved. “Relate the stages of grief…hold up, what? That’s difficult as hell. What are we supposed to do, lose a loved one?” You roll your eyes, turning to him. “No, Mark. The point is to find another process that happens gradually and relate it to this—denial, bargaining, anger. Get it?”
He stares back at you. “No.”
You groan audibly, turning back to your notebook. “This is impossible. Can we just switch partners so I won’t have to deal with you?” He smirks, kicking his feet up on the library table. Absently, you note how nice his sneakers look. Reclining onto the seat, he shuts his eyes as if to contemplate. 
“I heard through the birdvine our professor’s the type to pair up people she thinks would look good together for shits and giggles. Girls and boys, boys and boys, you name it. Johnny”—he’s referring to a guy who’s a year above yours, studying Biology—“tells me over five couples have been born out of this class. Isn’t that nice?” You scoff, scrolling mindlessly through the slides to keep yourself distracted. 
“It really is. A shame we won’t be adding to that list, because I can’t fucking stand you.” He laughs loudly, the vibration of it remaining in the deadly silent air. “I can stand fucking you, though,” he says, and then, before you can even blush, “All jokes. Don’t get your hopes up, ‘kay?” He’s quick to get up, just as flustered as you are at the uncharacteristic phrase that just left his mouth. He collects his jacket and jogs out of the library with a small, half-assed bye under his breath.
Lia’s eyes bore into yours. “He actually said that? I’m telling you, he’s some weird kinky guy under that whole cool geek persona. High school Mark would never have. Oh my god. He’s a furry—he’s a furry!” She flops back onto your bed, laughing. You poke at her waist in protest. 
“It’s because he’s surrounded by too many weird classy fuckboys. You know, those that think that they’re all that because they haven’t roofied a girl.” You’re half-joking, and you’re really only referring to maybe two guys you’ve happened to see Mark with. As if to read your mind, Lia continues. “Hey, I heard some of them are okay. They’re not, like…those ‘nice guys’, if you get me.”
“I do,” you quip. “But I guess I’m just trying to find a way to justify the whole 360 in Mark. I mean, in high school, he was still nerdy—well, you know. Shy. But jump to sophomore year of uni and he’s suddenly some…” You rack your head for a proper term. “Sex god?” your friend asks, holding in a laugh. “Oh, eat shit,” you fire back, “really, eat shit. And while you’re at it, feed me some, too, because I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to turn in at the end of the term. Like, Jes—”
There’s a faint knock at the door, and then. “Lia? It’s—uh, it’s me, Daniel? Er, Daniel Choi.” Your wide eyes can’t possibly match Lia’s as she tugs on a decent-looking pullover and puts it on. As she swings the door open, you manage to sufficiently hide yourself under your duvet and attempt to hear their conversation. 
“You know, it’s okay if you leave out the whole…saying your full name at the door part. Trust me…I know you,” she jokes, and you hear him laugh before you detect the crinkling of a plastic bag. “Chinese. Uh, I bought some extra for your best friend, because I’m not gonna pretend I don’t see the sentient blob on the bed.”
You pull the blanket off and smile sheepishly. “Hey, Daniel,” you say, “thanks for the food. I owe you an empty room next time, I swear by it. It’ll be easy, since I’m gonna be”—you heave yourself off the bed and onto the floor, where they’re both sitting—“holed up at the library for the next few weeks.” 
Lia nods, chewing her chow mein, and then when she’s done, she explains to Daniel your whole huge Psychology end-of-term paper about stages and grief and whatever, oh also she’s partnered with Mark Lee, this guy that we both know from high school, and she dislikes his guts, oh you know him? 
“Wait. You know him?” You repeat, and Daniel nods, ruffling his black mullet. “His room’s, like, three away from mine. He’s studying Theoretical Physics, right? Yeah, he’s always in his room doing school shit, but every weekend he’s out with the upperclassmen. He’s probably out now, ‘cause it’s Friday. How he even charmed them, though, is a mystery.”
Mid-dumpling, you roll your eyes. “Y’know, the hardest part is being partnered with him. But also, even finding what kind of gradual process to relate denial and anger too is weirdly hard. It feels like I could find something, but I haven’t gotten it…quite…” you trail off, your eyes landing on Lia and Daniel across you—they’re smiling softly at each other, and you distinguish their fingers interlocking quietly, as if you wouldn’t notice. 
“…yet. Except maybe I have. How would you want to participate in my end-of-term paper?” Their gazes turn to yours, and you nod frantically. “Oh my god, I’m a genius! Seriously! Falling in love! Yes! It’s denial—anger—whatever, whatever! It makes perfect sense. The end is acceptance, too! Oh god, Li, it’s perfect. I will owe you for life if you help me out.”
“Wait, what? You dove straight into it, what—recap, please,” Lia asks, and you compose yourself before explaining giddily. 
“Falling in love. It happens gradually, and we can compare it to the stages of grief. Seeing as you and Daniel are headed right there, we can use you as some test subjects. It’s not required to have respondents or subjects, really, it’s just an extensive paper, but it might help get the grade up. This is gonna be great, and if you ever wanna back out, you can, because it’s not mandatory.” Lia and Daniel meet eyes briefly, and then slowly, nod. “Okay, that’s pretty smart,” Daniel says, “I’m up for it. Are you?” Lia nods, slowly and hesitantly, and you smile widely. “You two just saved my Psych grade. I’ll be at Giselle’s tonight. Just…not on my bed.” You grab your keys and phone and bound out of your room, straight into the elevator at the end of the hall.
The elevator door nearly closes when a Converse-clad foot steps in, and your eyes rake up the figure, eventually landing on his face. 
“Jesus fuck,” you mumble, “you must be kidding me.” 
Mark enters the elevator with a small, teasing smile, hands tucked into his jacket’s pockets. “Hey, dude, what’s up? Was on your floor on my stop down to get some money Lucas owed me,” he says, “this is actually a godsend, because my genius brain found us a project idea. Relate grief to something else gradual? Easy as pie. Falling in lo—” 
You cut him off before he can finish, “Falling in love, right. I thought of it first, earlier,” you say profusely, absently noting the pettiness in your tone. He whistles. “No need to get all possessive over an idea the previous classes have used before, man.” You continue, ignoring him. “Whatever. Lucky for our grades, I went the extra mile to get us some test subjects. Do you know the two Chois? Lia and Daniel?” 
He nods once, “Yeah, their PDA on Instagram is fucking sickening, but I see your technique, and I like that—we get some extra data from their god awful PDA.” You nod once, and he continues. “It’s nearing 11 on a Friday night. Whose party are you headed to?”
“You’re welcome for the test subjects,” you gripe. “Anyway, I was so giddy about coming up with it, I just left them to…well, fornicate. As a compromise for being lab rats. I texted my…” you realize you’re starting to share too much to a guy you typically dislike talking to, and then there’s a silence in the air that’s painfully awkward. 
“You texted your…?” Mark asks. “My friend, but she’ll be home at 1AM, so I’m out to kill time. No parties, just…I dunno.” He nods again, and then the elevator lets out a blissful ding. You step out simultaneously, and then he faces you. “Look, it’s freezing out, you’re in shorts and a puffer coat, and it’s three hours to 1AM, so I doubt you’ll get far.” You scoff at his words despite feeling your legs shake from the breeze outside. “I’ll be fine, dumbass.”
“Just concerned,” he says, in a tone that sounds more blank than annoyed, but he turns and heads toward the door anyway. He swivels back around briefly. “It’s in Johnny’s apartment. Just a couple people, if you get bored freezing.” He jogs outside then, and you inwardly appreciate the small gesture, but again, annoyance returns just as quickly. You linger a bit before heading out yourself, walking briskly to a local Japanese restaurant. You consider this an opportunity to have some me time, some rest after a shitty week in university. Lasting ’til 1AM alone and entertained would not at all be a problem. 
You last one ramen bowl and head to Johnny’s apartment.
When Johnny Suh answers the door, he’s clad in a makeshift shower curtain gown of sorts, and is flushed and very buzzed all over. He hikes up the top to cover his chest and laughs profusely. “Did Mark invite you?” Behind him is a sizeable group of just about twenty people, which looks like forty in a cramped communal space. You’d been here before—Johnny likes to invite just about anyone to get stoned and listen to Kid Cudi on Fridays, and you had pushed Lia to accompany you before. 
You distantly spot the kitchenette, the small living room, and then the two bedroom doors opposing each other. “The rule was to show up wearing something not marketed as clothing, but Mark didn’t follow the rules, so. Anyway, you’re off scot-free, too…” he pauses, “…if you take off the puffer coat. We’ve got heating, anyway. Free booze and weed, too.” You figure being in a flimsy tank top isn’t so bad—you’re sure half the people here are already getting laid or trying to, and nobody would really pay attention to you.
You shrug off the coat as Johnny steps aside to let you in, hugging it close to your body and navigating your way to the kitchen. The granite counters are filled with various bottles of booze, and you also note the cigarettes and blunts lining the island. You peruse the brands before settling on a sealed can of decidedly not-so-cheap-looking beer, and crack it open to take a swig. It’s warm and fucking disgusting, but there’s not much glitz in an “anything but clothing” off-campus college party anyway. 
There are several people scattered among the living area, passing around a blunt—another group is playing suck and blow. You make your way over to the cheap couch on the far end of the room, taking a seat on the arm and stretching out your hand to claim the blunt. It’s Jae who passes it to you—Jaehyun Jung, an upperclassman whose infamy (for wearing nothing but toilet paper and running through campus) greatly surpasses him. “Who are you?” he asks, and you holler your name back over the Kanye West song playing in the background. “Mark invited me,” you tack onto the end as compensation.
He nods in understanding, watching you take a drag and pass it back to him. He only hands it back, saying, “It’s nearly done, just finish it,” and getting up to probably get some booze or another blunt. 
You scan the area for a better place to cherish your weed, because you’re definitely not going to do it on the arm of a couch housing three couples making out to the high heavens. You spot an open window and a fire escape just beside the kitchen and walk over, ducking into the cool night air. It’s not quiet, it never is, and you treasure the peace that comes with the noise, closing your eyes and trying to milk the last few drags. All that is flushed down the drain when somebody kicks you out of your reverie and your last two drags are falling down, through the grills of the fire escape. 
“What the fuck?” You look up to meet, of course, Mark’s gaze, teasing and mischievous. 
“That wasn’t fucking funny, asshat. Get away from me.” You get up instantly, ducking back into the house and searching for your coat. It’s (very unfortunately) buried under a couple who have escalated from making out to borderline public indecency.
“Fuck it,” you mumble, swinging the door open and mentally preparing yourself for the cold once you get to the sidewalk, floors down. Mark follows suit, a laugh gracing the atmosphere around the two of you. “You know, I forgot how fun it is to make you pissed off. I did it all the time in eighth grade when I told our teacher you knew the solution to the Physics problems.” You’re fucking pissed. However petty, you’re fucking annoyed that you couldn’t finish the blunt, and you pay no attention to him. 
He badgers on anyway. “Hey—it was a mistake, I wanted to say hi to you.” You scoff, finally turning—“Why? Because we’re friends? We’re not. We’re Psych partners, we came from the same high school, we share a couple mutual friends. But you and I are not friends, not objectively, anyway. Please, Mark. I only just re-acquainted myself with you today, but, like, you’re already so annoying!” You’re at the elevator now, and when the doors slide open, you step inside and let them close at once. You barely catch the unreadable look on his face in your annoyance, and you lean against the wall, shutting your eyes and breathing heavily. 
How you’d even get to Giselle’s, or how you would wait out the remaining half-hour before she got home, was just up to whichever higher power happened to be witnessing you that night.
The door of your professor’s office closes with a saddening click. You stare back at her name, embossed on the wood in bold, in defeat, accepting your fate with a heavy heart. Just fifteen minutes prior, you had entered with a whole spiel prepared on how you just had to swap with somebody from your class so you wouldn’t have to work with Mark. This speech had occurred twice now—with your TA, and then once with your professor. This was your second chance, your redemption: so you prepared notes, you prepared convincing words—you had a point. 
But your professor simply shooed you away, muttering how she didn’t have time for you because she was going to be receiving hundreds of papers in a few weeks’ time from a different class and she, quite honestly, couldn’t be bothered. You bite your lip, thinking back to the previous Friday—it was nearing two weeks since your small outburst at Mark. Since then, you’d expected to build a silent rapport of just working, observing Lia and Daniel, and then parting. And that was almost it. You would show up to your so-called “lab rat sessions”, cup of warm caramel latte in hand, and work. 
Except Mark would constantly make noise, jeer, swipe your pen, and do other things that got on your nerves.
“You’re going to have to stop trying sometime,” Lia says, backhugging you. She’d been waiting outside. You let your head loll back onto her shoulder and whine. “Do you know when you’re so frustrated you want to cry? Yeah? That’s exactly how it is, Li. I can’t keep up with this for another two, three months. It’s like he’s not even, like, fuck, like he’s not even trying, y’know? We’re building the foundation of a pages-long paper. This isn’t some finals essay he can bullshit in three hours.” 
You groan as Lia pulls away from you, whirling you around to face her. “It’ll be fine, I swear to you. I’ll help out, anytime you need it. I promise. If I start hating Daniel, I’ll even pretend like I’m in love with him. Head over heels.” You let yourself laugh and pull out your phone as you two begin to walk towards your dorm.
She tsks. “We’re gonna have a thing tonight, right? Like, a lab rat session?”
You nod, squinting over your calendar app. “Yeah, at around 5:30 to 6. It’ll be quick, but Mark and I are gonna have to stay behind to divide the work for the general paper and then start. Hopefully we can get some outlining done by tonight…so don’t wait up,” you sigh. She smiles apologetically, pinching your waist affectionately. 
“Daniel and I will totally help you. He’s a Mark anti now. I told him about the party outburst thing.” You had sent her a slew of texts that night, and like every other story you had told (save for the most private ones), Daniel had caught wind of it. You’re half sure he was capable of blackmailing you at that point. “Good,” you shoot back, “I’m going to need all the anti-Mark force I can get.”
“Why?” You both turn to see Mark standing idly behind you. There’s a beat, and then: “You look like an inane stalker,” you retort, turning to continue walking. Lia follows suit—with the two of you, the vibe of the atmosphere would always come easy. If one was mad, the other would act mad, too. 
“Hey,” Mark repeats, falling into step beside you, “why do you need an anti-Mark force? Tell me.” At this point, your nerves are on fire and your blood is boiling, and you’re beginning to envision beating him up on the quad. “Mark, it’s been great, but we’re going to our dorm, and in case you don’t want to catch a restraining order, I suggest you get off at your floor instead of following us like a creep,” you say sweetly, quickening your steps until he’s far behind you, smiling. Fucking asshole. 
“I’ll see ya this evening, then,” he teases, and you grumble under your breath.
It’s 5:45 when Lia and Daniel leave the library—fifteen minutes early. You and Mark leave ten minutes later, hours before you were supposed to complete your task. You’re fuming, and for once, Mark has the decency to read the room and feel remorse. 
The evening had started off well enough, though—Lia and Daniel had showed up, did their thing, described what was happening, and you and Mark had noted it down. And then, well. Mark spilled water all over your planner, which, in hindsight, was definitely unintentional, but in the spur of the moment, you could do nothing but your natural—everybody’s natural—response to getting something precious ruined. You began to cry. “What the fuck,” you sniffled, “is wrong with you?!” You had shaken the majority of water off your planner, but any and all dates had been smudged and bled, and you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him. “I know I called you annoying, but this is too far,” you had said, watching his face go from teasing to genuinely sorry. “Dude, it was accidenta—” 
“I don’t give a fuck—!” You quickly cut yourself off and wipe your tears when you see a young library assistant heading towards your table. Everybody composes themselves—Lia and Daniel straighten out the things on the surface and Mark sits up straight. “Hey,” he says. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but two students already came in with a noise complaint. We’re gonna have to ask you to,” he makes a gesture, “leave for now and come back tomorrow. Also, the puddle on the table…yeah. I’m really sorry.” He leaves, as if to make sure you have no other choice but to just go, and you slump back onto your chair in exhaustion. 
“You two can go ahead,” you hear Mark say, “I’m really sorry about this. We’ll clean up and apologize.” Faintly, you hear them get up, and you feel Lia’s hand squeeze yours as she promises a text and food later. You let your eyes remain shut, drinking in the quiet, trying to calm your inner turmoil.
Ten minutes later, when you’re out in the cold November air, Mark finally speaks. You had cleaned up and collected your things in silence. “I’m really sorry,” he says, “it was an accident, for real. I know I tease a lot, but, uh, I’m being serious. I would never have done that on purpose. I see you write shit on that thing a lot, so…I know how much you like it. Treasure it…? I don’t—whatever it is, I’m really sorry. Like, really. T’was an accident. If you need me to pay for it…” You shake your head softly, hugging your damp planner closer to your sweater-clad chest. “It’s okay. Thanks, anyway. For helping. I’ll email you what you have to do. Bye,” you turn and begin walking in the direction of your dorm. The sun is beginning to set, golden orange hues casting a vast array of colors onto the landscape of the city. You sigh softly, heart heavy with annoyance and exhaustion, and speed up before you start having a mini-breakdown.
Stage 1: Denial|
Your cursor blinks back at you as you finish typing in your outline for the introduction. It’s early into November, but already, you’ve had to shut your window to shielf yourself from the biting breeze outside. Across you, Lia applies mascara and talks to you. “What are you up to?” she asks, face contorted. 
“This godforsaken paper,” you mumble back, “just finished the introduction outline. I’m trying to give a loose definition for each gradual ‘stage.’” Shoving your Macbook off your lap, you get up to stretch. “Which I’ll probably find on Google Scholar, honestly. If you had to give me a definition—what’s denial?” 
She hums contemplatively, wand on lash, and then pipes up. “I think it’s just a stage where you can’t face the fact that you’re interested in that person. Like, why them? With Daniel, he wasn’t really my type. So the whole denial was denying I liked him, because…well, yeah. But I think it differs. Some people deny it because they’re shy, or ashamed, or weirded out that they even like them.”
You’ve had your fair share of crushes before, and sure enough, you had denied them all. But that was high school—college, though, had only brought short-lived flings and one night stands; you were an overachiever, much too committed to your own prosperity to pay mind to anybody else for too long. (Except Lia.) So you hadn’t really experienced the whole boyfriend-in-university thing—not that you particularly wanted to, but you were just human; you were curious. Lia had gotten it, and it looked wonderful. 
Speaking of—“So, a week without meeting Mark in person, huh? How is that going for you?” You scoff lightly, shaking your head as you pull your hair into a bun. “It’s going just fine. Dandy, actually. We work from our dorms and you and Daniel just update us. It’s a fine arrangement that I regret was not formulated sooner.” Lia nods in understanding, and you watch her pull on a top, mutter I’m out and head outside. For the fifth time this week, you’re alone in the dorm, with nothing but your Alexa playing SZA and your laptop. You pull it onto your lap again, staring at the boldface letters you had typed minutes prior: denial. You had no firsthand experience of being mature and going through denial; not in that way, anyway. You found it stupid that people even denied when it would be less painful to just admit interest.
You blow a raspberry as you research studies related to the term, bored out of your mind.
Two days later, you meet Mark again. 
You’d also had the pleasure of, for a minute or two, meeting a friend of his, Donghyuck Lee from Economics. He’s loud and amusing and, from your viewpoint, undeserving of somebody as boring as Mark. (That’s from a minute-long intercation.) 
At Lia’s insistence (and likely Daniel’s, too), you two met up to properly work and collaborate. In fear of being kicked out again, the four of you had chosen to meet somewhere else—a cafe off-campus affectionately named something along the lines of Saltwater Coffee. Naturally, after Donghyuck leaves, you find yourself sitting idly (awkwardly) beside Mark. “They won’t be long,” he says suddenly, “er, Daniel just texted me. They’re near.” You nod, pursing your lips, eyes trained onto your laptop. “We’re almost done formulating the denial stage and we can start outlining anger and bargaining. This’ll take about a week more—maybe mid to late November? Uh, I know it seems justifiable to slack off with the holidays,” you say, “but I really want us to finish this early. The due date’s in mid-February, so we can pass this on the 14th.” You turn to face him. “Get it? ‘Cause it’s Valentine’s Day.”
He nods. “Okay. No slacking. I get it. The Valentine’s is smart, too.” You nod back in silent understanding, turning back to type frantically into your keyboard. 
You hear the door jingle and Lia’s small “hey, guys”, so you look up and offer a smile. “I’m gonna go order everyone some coffee,” Mark says beside you, getting up and shuffling over to the counter. Daniel joins him, and Lia takes a seat across you, her smile knowing and apologetic. “Everything okay?” You blow a raspberry, but smile, anyway. “It’s not so bad. It could be better, but no more banter, just very annoyed auras…? You get it. It’s just been tough trying to divert my focus to this and ignore all the annoyance I feel.”
“Totally, I get that,” she says, “but all the same, I’m glad he’s matured a little bit and lessened all the ribbing.” You smile at that, agreeing, and then the conversation spirals into one about both of your days—“Professor Callahan totally pops a stiffy over Professor Michaelson”, “Daniel tells me Joshua cheated. Yes, on Jess!”, “Mia dropped out the other day and nobody knows why, hope she’s okay”—before Daniel and Mark return, coffee cups in hand. Mark places one next to you, and profusely, you look up at him, who’s just about to sit. 
“Thanks, but I don’t drink brewed coff—”
“It’s a caramel latte, the only thing you drink. Heard you say that to Lia once.” He takes a seat and pulls his laptop open. 
You stare at him, taking the cup and bringing it to your lips. Sure enough, it’s caramel—thick, and foamy, and sweet. You look up at him again, but he’s busy on Google Scholar, perusing through journals and studies. You shake your head before turning to Lia, who’s already looking at you, expression mirroring yours. 
Sweet, she mouths, but you purse your lips and choose not to acknowledge it. “Thanks,” you say quietly, and he hums to say you’re welcome. 
Your eyes flicker to him. He’s wearing a knitted sweater, but he’s pulled it up to his elbows. He’s typing quickly, and he can use all his fingers, too (you fail miserably at that), and his brows are furrowed as if he’s stressed, or in a hurry. You’ve never really noticed this much of Mark before. It’s probably, you think absently, because you’re confused. Puzzled at the gesture that you didn’t expect—at all.
After an hour, he angles his laptop to yours. “Nailed the intro. High five?” You open the Google doc on your own browser, and sure enough, the word count has increased monumentally. You can’t deny his knack for writing. “There are a few discrepancies in grammar,” you say instead. “But…okay. This is good.” You ignore his hand, in mid-air, and continue researching. 
Lia holds in a giggle, but turns back to Daniel, who, after fifteen minutes, turns to you and Mark. “Lia and I are heading out, guys,” he says, and Lia quickly tacks on. “Hey, if you need me to stay, I can,” she says quickly, but you smile and shake your head. 
“This might take a while. Go ahead. See ya at the dorm, Li. Bye, Daniel.” Mark bids his farewells, too, and they leave you alone in the cafe. It’s nearing a three hour crunch when he abruptly gets up to stretch, a low grunt leaving his lips. “I’m exhausted,” he sighs, “but at least we’re nearly done with this whole denial thing.”
“We’re actually only just starting,” you state, “this is going to go through a lot of editing and proofreading.” 
He chuckles and walks back to the counter to order something, and you shut your laptop to rest your eyes. Your glasses rest uncomfortably on the bridge of your nose as you breathe deeply. You lose track of time, and you open your eyes ten minutes later, fumbling to get up properly. There’s a panini beside your laptop, wrapped neatly in a tissue and laid on a plate. Mark’s is empty, save for crumbs, and he says nothing. 
“Get up,” he remarks teasingly after a while, and you groan in exhaustion. “I am, I’m up,” you mutter, straightening your back and flexing your neck. Inwardly, you wonder if you should thank him for the panini that is obviously yours that you obviously did not buy for yourself. 
Then Mark’s hand stretches out to take the panini, and he takes a bite. “Sorry,” he says, “I had to put my second sandwich in your space. This table’s a little small.” You hum back in acknowledgement, nodding once. “It’s, uh…all good,” you respond, voice small as you type into your laptop. Internally, your body fills slowly with humiliation and confusion, but you stay quiet, and that’s how the rest of the night goes: a silent, steady beat of keyboard clicking and the occasional question. 
No banter, no nothing—it’s a godsend, yes, it is, but you can’t help but miss the abrasive, playful conversations the two of you had built up over the previous several weeks. But really—had you truly assumed he had bought you a panini? As if a coffee wasn’t enough? You felt at odds with yourself for even expecting such a gesture from the guy whose main habit was to annoy you to the ends of the Earth.
“It’s late,” he says, as if he’s reading your mind and knowing you’re absolutely mortified inside. “Let’s head home.” You nod, deeming the night’s work satisfactory—maybe even beyond, considering the amount of effort you both put into the output. You shove your laptop and charger into your bag and pocket your phone, lingering awkwardly and waiting for Mark to finish packing up. He’s particular with it—he has little sections in his backpack for the wires and chargers, and even his AirPods, and his laptop. 
“Very organized,” you find yourself commenting offhandedly, your tone taking on a teasing edge. He glares playfully back at you. 
“Sorry I don’t want my wires to break,” he shoots back, eyeing your flimsy tote bag, “unlike some people.” You roll your eyes and, against your strongest wills, a smile appears on your lips, albeit a small one. His eyes linger on your smile for a little bit before he clears his throat and zips up his knapsack. “Let’s, er, go. Thank Jesus we’re in the same building.” When you exit, the air bites at you despite the jacket covering your body, and you quicken your pace. “It’s cold as hell.”
“Ironic,” Mark says. You hide a smile.
That’s what November brings you—the next week and a half are composed of just slowly learning to get used to working with Mark again and going home late into the night, crunching to the max. 
Your paper begins to take on more and more structure, and two out of the six days you’ve met, Mark has set down a caramel latte for you to arrive to. The acoustic music slowly phases into holiday guitar, and the coat rack at the entrance is weighed down more and more as the days pass, preparing to welcome December. 
You and Mark work silently, save for the rare banter and eyeroll, and very gradually, the annoyance that had bubbled up within seconds before had sank down. You’re not friends, per se—it’s just that the frustration and exasperation had lessened considerably. 
You were civil. That’s it. You won’t try to deny that you’ve been thinking about this a little too much—about what your “friendship” had become with Mark. You hadn’t snapped at him in days, and he hadn’t tugged at your ballpen in even longer. It wasn’t that you had cowered him into silence by crying over your planner—it may have instigated it, but his behavior was…different. 
More calm, more sure. Less childish. He would still tease you, but not as much. It’s nearing mid-November now, and you’ve successfully done much of your introduction and denial, needing less and less of Lia and Daniel’s presence. (Which you’re sure they’re grateful for.) But being left alone with Mark isn’t as bad as you once thought—
“Hello. Earth to you,” you distantly hear, and you whip your head in the direction of the voice as you pace back to your dorm building. Mark stares blankly back at you. “What,” you mumble back. He quirks a brow before continuing. “I was saying, I think I need to take a rain check tomorrow. The, uh”—he clears his throat—“um, yeah.”
You eye him. “Okay…?”
He nods profusely, “Yeah, all good.” The walk continues in silence, the sun finally setting down behind the Manhattan skyline beyond you and the breeze taking on a chillier temperature. You sigh softly, fatigue overtaking you as you stare at the building nearing you. “If you take a rain check, just make sure you write it within the day or after,” you say, half-sternly and half-tiredly. He mumbles a “got it” and you both jog up the steps to the lobby, where you run into, by some weird twist of the day, a small group of anti-abortion protesters.
“Jesus Christ,” Mark mutters under his breath. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You rub the bridge of your nose in your fingers, choosing to tune them out and instead maneuver your way through the door. Before you can even take a step, though, they’re all up in your face with pamphlets and brochures and a guitar. “Excuse me,” you grunt, trying to gently push them aside, but they only come on stronger. “A child is a child,” they say. “If you know anybody who’s—”
“Is this your new initiative? Preying on college students on school grounds, unaccounted for?” Mark asks from behind you. You turn to find he’s filming and stifle a laugh. “I’m surprised nobody’s kicked you out. Won’t be long, now,” he adds with a smile. 
You tune out nearly everything else—it’s really just them telling Mark to stop recording and him retorting with equally snarky phrases. It’s not until maybe after a solid two minutes of back and forth that one of them, a weird middle-aged woman, pulls out a burgundy gummy bear from a bag and pushes it into Mark’s camera. He takes it from her and examines it, puzzled. “That,” she says matter-of-factly, “is the approximate size of a fetus. It’s big. It’s sentient, alive. What, I beg of you, what would you do?”
Mark squints at it. Then he pops it into his mouth, takes your hand, and runs straight to the elevator across the floor. 
“There’s a bunch of anti-abortion people outside, it’s not cool!” He hollers to the receptionist before the doors close with a damning click. 
There’s a beat, and then.
Both of you are doubling over in laughter. “Why the hell would y—why would you do that?! You’re insane!” The response is: “Because they’re not cool! They’re fuckin’ annoying! So I ate their baby!” There are tears in your eyes, your laughter so hard it’s nearing silent—Mark’s, though, is loud and annoying sounding, though you seem to not mind so much. The laughter subsides when the ding of your floor sounds and you straighten yourself up. Getting into a different position reminds you of the very there, very obvious brushing of your hand against Mark’s, which he’d taken just moments earlier, post-baby eating.
You freeze and jerk your hand away. “I’ll, um, go now,” you say, “I’ll see you tomorr—no, the day after.” Against your wills, you meet his eyes, and you’re surprised to find that he’s already looking at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Okay,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours. Your heart beats faster at a very small increment, but you head out and semi-run to your room, swinging it open and leaning against it. 
You look up to find Lia and Daniel engaged in a heated Monopoly match. You make no noise, mind (and heart, but you can’t tell why) racing fast. You watch them play for a second before they both look up slowly.
“You’re smiling like a goddamn idiot,” Daniel says. Your face falls immediately. “I’m, um, no I’m not,” you say casually, pacing over to your bed and flopping onto it. Lia laughs loudly. 
“That sounded so freaked. Like we’re your mom and you just brought weed home kind of freaked.” Pause. 
“Are you hiding something from me?” She rises from her spot to look at you, head in pillow and all, and you let out a muffled “no!”, probably too defensive for your own good. 
It’s Daniel’s turn to snort. You look up and glare at him, “You’re getting too comfortable for your own good. You need to humble yourself, Daniel. What’s it again? Oh yeah, Yeonjun, right?” He rolls his eyes at the use of his Korean name and turns back to the Monopoly board.
Lia flops atop you, eliciting a grunt from your lips. “Are you okay? Did somebody flirt with you? Did Mark finally fuck off and leave you alone properly?” 
At the mention of Mark, your heart races—you will it to stop, and audibly groan in the process. “What is it, you bitch?” Lia asks, tugging on a section of your hair. “It’s nothing, Li! Nothing, I promise.” She glares at you before walking to Daniel and covering his ears. Instantly, he begins to let out a chorus of Lalala, and deeming the environment safe enough, you let it slip.
“Mark and I held hands. But it—”
“You what?!”
“It really, really doesn’t mean anyth—”
“How can that not mean anything? It’s hand holdi—”
“If you would listen to the backstory you’d know!” She pauses, and then uncovers Daniel’s ears and knees him. 
“Okay, get out. Monopoly postponed, Jun,” she says, pushing him out insistently. He barely collects his phone and keys before he’s out, but you swoon silently when you catch him pressing a short goodbye kiss to her forehead before actually leaving. She turns immediately, fire and curiosity awfully evident in her face. 
She nears you. “Explain.” 
And that’s what sparks the story of the weird protesters, Mark’s power move, and the unintentional hand hold that lasted a few moments too long. She nods the entire time, laughing, and then her face straightens out again. You can almost hear the gears in her head turning as she analyzes the situation, and then she nods once. 
“Okay. Perfectly justifiable to freak out.” Another pause. “But why were you smiling?” You stare blankly back at her, head working impossibly quick to formulate a reply. You’ve taken too long now, judging by the way Lia is looking at you with the most shit-eating grin on her fucking face. You groan.
“You like him, you bitch!” 
You shake your head, facing her. “I don’t, dude. Trust me. I just…it was a fun experience, so naturally I’d be laughing. And smiling. But I’m just not interested in Mark! I’m not,” you fumble, being completely honest. 
You didn’t—not even if you looked in the mirror and asked yourself. But you couldn’t deny the feelings you felt in the ten seconds from the elevator to your room, your heart racing and your fist curling and uncurling. When you look at Lia again, she’s still smiling, flushed. “You like him,” she says into her palm, which she’s slapped over her mouth in disbelief. You stare back at her, your expression baffled. “If I did,” you begin, getting up to discard your shirt, “I’d have told you by now. It’s really not that big of a deal unless you make it out to be.”
After that, you and Mark spend nearly three weeks walking on eggshells around each other. While conversations are no longer avoided, and you could talk without getting exasperated or too embarrassed, finger brushes are frequent, and eye contact only makes you extremely nervous. You had worked until the second stage—anger—already, but you’d still been polishing the denial and introduction. Considering November wasn’t over and the paper was due February, you figured you were moving at an okay pace. Besides, a lot of your friends hadn’t even begun.
There are two instances where you rush home, mortified beyond belief.
The first when when you struck up a conversation with the cute, Australian barista. Scrawled in big penmanship on his name tag is Chan. You had brought up, in passing, how often you’re at the cafe and how you probably deserve a free drink. He replied with a low hum, and you dialed down your flirty tone, slightly embarrassed. But not really. You’ve rejected plenty of people before. It’s when you’re already paying for your drink that he replied, handing you your (for a change) iced matcha with a small grin. 
“I’d have flirted with you weeks ago if you didn’t have your boyfriend with you all the time. He’s always buying you your drinks.” You spluttered for a good second, staring at him incredulously. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you finally said. 
He had shrugged, nonchalant. “He sure as hell looks at you a lot for someone you’re not dating. And you do it just as much, if not more. I’m observant, by the way. Not a stalker.” You had taken your cup and paced over to the other end of the cafe, sat across Mark, cheeks heated.
He looked up, brow raised. You shook your head.
The second time was when Donghyuck graced you both with his presence. You quickly found out that he was a magnetic presence and you both shared similar interests. The energy you both created was both amusing and annoying to Mark. 
Although you kept quiet mostly, you enabled Donghyuck’s incessant teasing, which annoyed Mark to the ends of the Earth. “You’re a dork. Isn’t he?” You look up and nod with a smile. Mark rolls his eyes, sending Donghyuck into a laughing frenzy. Mark just grunts and continues typing.
Hyuck had made a joke about how two Physics textbooks discussed why the sad man named Mark owns two of them and didn’t have a life, and you laughed. 
You didn’t usually laugh, not around Mark, at least, since it was safe to say you didn’t have any source of entertainment in such a boring guy. But you laughed at the witty joke, and Donghyuck, without thinking much, had said in passing: “Mark, I guess you’re right about everything about her being pretty.”
Mark said nothing, typing. You said nothing. Nobody said anything, not even a sly Donghyuck or, from the counter, an even slyer Chan.
When you see Mark next, it’s three days later, and it’s, for the second time, in Johnny’s apartment. 
Lia had asked if you wanted to tag along, and you found no harm in going. (“You’re going because Mark is” becomes Lia’s favorite phrase of the night, so much it’s spread to Daniel, who you’d succumbed to and spilled everything to hours prior.) The walk there has something boiling low in your gut and you’re quiet, in fear you might end up vomiting in nerves or saying something stupid. Lia teases you, but her hand clasping yours reassures you, and you squeeze it tightly. 
You get there late—it’s past 1AM, and you have a sense of deja vu walking into the cramped space. It’s fuller this time—people are creeping into the bedrooms to smoke in private or do some other things, but suffice to say it’s crowded as fuck.
“Want a drink?” Lia hollers, and you nod over the music. Johnny’s neighbor is another upperclassman named Doyoung, though he’s mainly referred to as Doie by just about everybody around him.
You’ve seen his girlfriend call him bunny a few times, though you’ve long desired to repress that memory. 
Judging by the fact that you can faintly hear a different song from the next room, the party has probably extended to Doyoung’s. There’s quite a gathering this week—the rich freshman who you’d befriended once before, Chenle, and his horde of friends are here; from Lia, who hands you a drink, you learn that Kun and Sicheng, two incredibly attractive juniors, are here, too—in Doie’s, though. The party only intensifies, which is hard, because Johnny’s apartment is very tiny.
Eventually, you find yourself in the bathroom, smoking a joint you’d grabbed out of the clammy hands of a tipsy Chenle and kicking a couple out under the guise that you’re Johnny’s cousin. Chenle had protested but eventually given in, pulling a new one out of his pocket.
The bathroom light is white and harsh, but there’s a very funky lamp at the corner. From your place inside the dry (and thankfully clean…looking) bathtub, you eye it. It’s a tall one in the shape of a glass of margarita. 
You heave yourself up and find the switch, and then when it’s on, you giggle at the green light emitting from it. You have absolutely no idea why Johnny, Jaehyun, or their roommate Jungwoo (3J, as some call them) have a decorative, margarita-shaped green lamp, and in their bathroom nonetheless, but you shut off the main light and return to smoking your blunt. Deciding your ass aches far too much, you lean against the tile wall and cherish the smoke.
The door opens abruptly, and you curse, pushing it back closed. 
“I have explosive diarrhea,” you say robotically, using the same excuse you did for the previous three couples that showed up. 
From the other side, you hear a shrill laugh and sound of confusion. When you peer over the other side and see Mark, you groan and laugh. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I saw you come in. Like, twenty minutes ago.”
“I’m cherishing the party privately.”
Mark ushers himself into the dark space and shuts the door. He makes a show of locking it, as if to show you it’s possible to do so. The sound of it locking sends a wave of nerves up your spine. 
“I didn’t lock it in case a medical emergency happens and they have to rush inside.” 
Mark quirks his brow. “I doubt they would think to go inside the restroom and not panic and call 911, you know.” 
You shrug in indifference and take another drag, reluctantly offering it to him.
He takes it, and you pause for a second to observe him. His hair, dark, and which usually covers his entire forehead like a broom or at least parts in the middle slightly, is now styled differently. 
He’s in a fitting black shirt and blue jeans, and, upon your closer inspection, silver rings adorn his fingers. You will yourself to look down. It’s dark. “What’s that you’re holding?” You ask instead, trying not to extend your stare at his shoulders.
“Your puffer coat,” he says, tossing it to you. “Left it last time.”
“That time when you annoyed the shit out of me, right,” you retort.
“Yes, exactly that time. That was ages ago. Weeks ago. Look at us now.”
“Us now—what, still disliking each other?”
He laughs humorlessly, but doesn’t entertain you further. He turns to the lamp instead. “Do you know I was there when they moved this in,” he begins, gesturing to it, “Jae got it at some weird, awful flea market, and he had to buy some extra wiring to fix it or whatever. I was doing Physics homework. It was at the start of this school year. And I bet you didn’t know…” he bends down and reaches to the base of the lamp, pressing a button, “that it changes color.”
The room is bathed in red now, and you swallow. “Interesting,” you manage to say, despite the racing in your head. “Very,” he responds, taking a step closer to you. You gaze up at him. He’s tall. You breathe softly. You nod in agreement. You don’t know what to do. You want to punch him and kiss him and leave all at once. 
You want to kiss him, oh God, you want to kiss him.
“Oh God,” you say softly, out loud. Oh fuck. Too much weed?
He inches closer, leaving the blunt on the rim of the sink. “Why?” He smiles a little and you smile back, nervous. He’s so close now, and he smells so good—like cologne and laundry and weed. You shake your head. “Nothing,” you mumble back.
He’s even closer now, eyes boring into yours. You adjust your strap, a nervous habit. He takes your hand and does it for you. “I like this song,” he says casually, like he’s not playing with the strap of your dress. “Do you know what it’s called?” It’s vaguely familiar to you, but you shake your head. 
“It’s Jhene Aiko,” he replies, and you nod. You gravitate closer.
You stare at him. He stares back. “I’m high,” you say. You giggle. “I had a brownie and that blunt.”
“That’s a lot,” he says. “Don’t finish the blunt, ‘kay?” You nod back, and giggle again. In two seconds, your nervous mechanism has kicked in and you’re laughing like a psycho. “I’m high,” you repeat, and then he kisses you, effectively sobering you up.
Huh. He kisses you, effectively sobering you up. He kisses you.
You kiss back, shocked and relieved, deepening it, trying to get as much of him as possible. His hands are big and wide and warm, traveling all over you. You want him. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, lips molding against yours deliriously. 
“Want you,” you say when his hands play with the hem of your dress, teetering closer and closer to your core. “I said, I want you,” you whine, “now.” Mark only laughs, his hands under your dress and playing with the lace waistband of your underwear. 
“I like how this feels,” he mumbles. “Wanna take a look.” You whimper, hiking your leg up and nodding. “Please, just…touch me,” you say breathlessly. “Please.”
“I will,” he says, voice calm. “You’re being good.” You can’t deny the noise you make at the praise, breathy and loud. You pull him in again, drunk for more, your hands raking through his hair. It’s dark, the both of you basking in the small red light. Mark hikes your dress up, inching it higher, slowly, until he sees the hem of your white lace underwear. He grunts and pulls at it. “I love this,” he says. “So fuckin’, Jesus.” 
You giggle against the smile. He toys with your panties for a bit before finally pulling them down, watching them sink to your ankles. “Hot,” he jokes, and you laugh in disbelief. “Why would you even be joking abou—”
“Mark! Let’s go, it’s 2:30!” Donghyuck’s voice is just as loud and clear as it would be if you weren’t separated by a door. Jolted, you and Mark instinctively break apart and stare at the rattling door. “Maaaark,” he sing-songs, knocking to a beat. You stare at Mark, waiting for him to respond.
“I have explosive diarrhea,” he says. You stifle a guffaw, pulling your panties up.
He pouts, tapping your ass. “Bullshit,” Donghyuck says from outside. “I’m cooomin’ in!”
In the span of a minute, where you realize Donghyuck is not bluffing and in fact has a stolen bathroom key from Jungwoo’s bedside drawer, you manage to shove yourself into the bathtub and hide yourself with the curtain. Mark switches the light back on, much to both of your disappointment, and pretends to smoke the blunt you’d left on the sink fifteen minutes ago. Ergo: pre-kiss.
You find your phone on the bathtub floor and grip it, turning the brightness down. You have a plethora of messages and voicemails from Lia, five calls from Daniel, and an interesting iMessage of Donghyuck’s red, weed-induced eyes from an unknown number. It could be anybody, and that scares you.
The texts are all frantic, and they’re the last things that bring you out of your high and back to reality. Where are u, who u with?, u getting railed??!, Have you seen mark?
“Hyuck, if I actually did have a shitstorm coming out of my ass, you’d be so sorry for breaking in,” you hear Mark say. You sink lower into the bathtub, awaiting Donghyuck’s voice. “You were the one who suggested we go at 2:30, and you’ve been smoking weed for the longest time, dipshit,” he says, “now let’s go. I haven’t seen your Psych girl all night, so you can cry about it at home.” You faintly detect Mark protesting and then, “Let me just freshen up! Just go ahead.”
Reluctantly, you peek out and find Mark alone. You get up and fix your dress.
You’re sober now. The red lights are gone. It’s just you and Mark, plain and simple. Your feelings haven’t gone away, though. You’re fucking fucked. You want him to fuck you. Oh, fuck.
“Go,” you say instead, spluttering. “And I’ll see you. Tuesday.”
You leave first despite yourself, not turning around for even a split second, finding a worried (and then relieved) Lia and taking five consecutive tequila shots to down the nerves and denial bubbling in your system. She raises a brow, but you refuse to even meet her eyes, head and heart pounding impossibly fast. You want to kiss him again. So, so bad. But what the fuck did you just let happen?
Stage 2: Anger|
Lia hadn’t pressed, and you were nervous, but it was getting easy to diverge the details of what happened during Johnny’s party. You had instead opted to work alone, too much of a coward to even see Mark’s face. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you feared you might just kiss him if you ever saw him. So you spent days at class working, and then at your dorm working, adjusting your route to avoid, as much as possible, Mark or Hyuck’s buildings and that godforsaken cafe. You did text Mark, though, and the exchanges were brief, not even a “thank you” or “good morning” preceding them. It was awful.
Working alone forced you into a heavy load of retrospection. You would think deeply, like how you are now, spiraling into a series of questions where you studied the play-by-play of what happened in the bathroom, up against the wall. You liked it. A lot. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t let yourself. Why it even happened…God. You mentally berated yourself for giving into it. Didn’t you hate him? Or at least dislike him? Didn’t you take pleasure in scolding him or fighting with him?
“You’re freaking me out,” Lia says from her bed. She’s been staring at you. “You’ve been lying on your bed staring at the ceiling for twenty straight minutes.” She walks over to you, flopping next to you, her arms winding around your body. “You can tell me anything.”
“I know,” you say, nervous. You gulp.
“Okay. If you’re n—”
“Mark and I kissed.”
She sits up and turns to look at you.
“Made out, more like. We were going to fuck if we didn’t get interrupted.” You’re mortified, refusing to meet her gaze. When you look up, her face is even, but you know she’s bubbling over with giddiness inside. “That is so fucking great, dude,” she replies. “Why are you so embarrassed?”
“Because it’s Mark,” you whine. “He’s not…I don’t know.”
She lies back down. “You’re overthinking this.” You laugh, poking her waist. “I know, but I just…I feel like he might not like me much anymore.” You recount the way you left him hanging, despite the lack of awkward air and the potential to talk and become something. She tsks but justifies it, because she’s so good at that, being a mediator, and you continue with your day quietly. 
Your mind is always on it, though, his hands and his lips, and you’ve scoured Spotify for the song playing that he had commented on.
It’s called Pussy Fairy. You cannot make it up. It’s a weird title, but the song is heavenly, and you can’t deny when it’s full blast on your AirPods and your hand is creeping closer and closer there, trying desperately to replicate what you felt in that moment. When you’re not sated, ashamed and sighing, you resort to working on your paper. There are moments where both you and Mark are working at the same time, and you hate yourself for getting all flustered when it happens. 
It’s a Tuesday, in the early afternoon, when you’re out of class and cleaning out the little litter in your dorm, repasting whatever decorations fell off, et cetera. You have the time, anyway, and it wouldn’t hurt to fix the place up a bit. You’re halfway into re-stringing Lia’s fairy lights when someone knocks on the door, jolting you. You curse under your breath, hopping off her bed to swing the door open and reveal—
“What is up?!” Donghyuck grins back at you. His hand is raised in a high-five invitation, which you hesitantly reciprocate. “Mark tells me you’re meeting today, and that I should come remind you, since it seems like you forgot. He says you haven’t texted all day. Since I was on this floor—do you know Jeno Lee? Do you know it’s so amusing how Mark, Jeno, and I all have the same surname? Anyway. I was here on your floor to remind Jeno about an Econ presentation, and Mark texts me and goes, if you’re with Jeno, then remind you—you as in you, you—to come meet me and work.” 
He talks so goddamn fast. “You talk so goddamn fast.”
He just guffaws, high-fiving you again. “Well, you get my point, right? Meet Mark at the cafe and work is all he said to do. If you wanna.” You nod slowly, absorbing his words. “Tell him I’ll be a little late,” you say simply, and as you’re about to shut the door, he talks again, his voice quieter this time. “I know you were hiding behind the curtain.”
You pull the door open again, so fast a minuscule gust of wind washes over both of your faces. “You’re kidding,” you say, “you’re kidding.” You stare at each other for a second before his solem features break into a smile. “I am. Mark spilled everything to me, so I decided to trick you.” Relief and annoyance break over your system as you swat Donghyuck’s shoulder. “You’re a dick,” you spit. “You’re bringing a bad image to Econ majors.”
He merely laughs and closes the door himself, light brown hair fluffing with the severity of his laugh (cackle.) Slightly annoyed, you drag yourself to get dressed, dread building up in your stomach at the prospect of seeing Mark again. Not when your mind conjures up what happened everytime you just see his name. Or the word mark. You’ve been out of it since it happened, not even responding to your usual heated debates with the conservative Trump supporter in class. You suppose the best way to confront it is to simply confront it.
When you get there, though, it’s clear that confrontation would not be an option. Immediately, when you sit, the air shifts into something oddly familiar—the atmosphere between the two of you when you first got partnered up. Except now, Mark won’t even give you a pinch of attention, or banter, instead typing his questions into the document to avoid verbal conversation. (He is a fucking petty bitch, you’ll give him that.)
You stroll over to the counter, pout set on your lips. “Hello,” Chan says politely, and you just smile half-heartedly. “Lover’s quarrel?” He teases, and you roll your eyes. “He’s ignoring me,” you respond, watching him make you a latte. “And we’re not dating. We never were.”
“Mm, right,” he says, finishing and setting your drink in front of you. You laugh a little, taking it. “No. We weren’t. But I’ll update you.”
When you return, Mark’s looking at you, quiet as ever. You break his gaze and continue working, working and working until the sun sets, nestled deep behind the horizon. When you look up again, the sky is already dark, city lights providing solace to the place. You look at Mark quizzically, as if to ask him what time you should both leave, but he just shrugs. “Any time,” he states plainly, and huffing, you get up.
“I’ll go right ahead then,” you say, trying your best to sound annoyed and get your message across. He says nothing, watching you pack up your stuff and sling your bag over your shoulder, and then eventually, leave.
Daniel is the first to see you in your raged, annoyed state—you meet him in the elevator of the lobby, your blood boiling and your fists balled. Knowing you’re headed to the same floor, he presses the button, ruffles his hair, and then lets the silence take over. And then, “What’s going on?” You breathe deeply, turning to him with a tired look on your face. “Mark’s going on,” you mumble, “he was ignoring me the entire time. And to think he was the one who requested my presence! It makes no sense. Why would he ignore me when we can just talk about it?”
“About what?”
It suddenly occurs to you that Daniel knows about your weird feelings for Mark, but not how they culminated. You splutter. “Um, about us. Everything.” Daniel looks amused, but the doors open, and you thank them for the temporary exit from the topic. He stops you right outside, though, and pulls out two ticket, card-looking things. “Wait, um. Listen, Lia and I are going to reach our seven-month…anniversary, I guess, of, y’know, being a thing. I know it seems really small, but I want to give her a little something out of appreciation, so I got us a room at this ski lodge outside the city.”
“That’s so sweet,” you say honestly, “but I must admit, it comes on sort of stalker-y. Like you’re whisking her off out of the city.”
He beams even louder. “That’s why you’re coming. With Mark!”
You gape back at him. “Did you miss the whole I-hate-him thing that happened in there?” You jab your finger towards the closed elevator doors, disbelief written across your face. He laughs. “Sometimes you can’t keep hiding behind”—he begins walking to your room, and you follow suit—“emotions, like anger. When I liked Lia, there was a point where I was just pretending to alienate her so I wouldn’t have to face that I was starting to love her. Like her. And you know, she did it right back.” 
“Oh, quit it,” you scoff, insistent. “You’re lecturing me like you’ve been married a decade.”
“That’s what I want,” he says, and you gag. “The first step to that would be ski lodge trip, so you’re coming!”
You’re in front of your room now, and you pinch his wrist as he reaches for the handle, gaining his full attention. “I’ll gladly go,” you whisper, “if Mark’s out.” Daniel just laughs, shaking his head. “No, no. An overnight trip would delay your paper severely. Plus, they have two beds per room.”
“We’ll be staying in the same roo—hey, Li,” you say, quickly cutting your angry rant off when she opens the door, her face confused (to say the least.) 
“Mm, hey,” she says, ushering the two of you in. “How long were you two out there?” Daniel shrugs, ruffling his hair and then pressing a kiss on Lia’s forehead. You boo from your place on your bed, buried under your duvet. “You both suck,” you holler, “always sexing it up in a sacred space. AKA my room.” Lia just grins and jumps on top of you, drawing grunts from you both. Daniel seats himself on the floor and busies himself with his phone. “How was Mark,” she whispers into your hair, and you groan.
“Bad,” you respond, “I’m so annoyed. We’re back to square one.” She makes an apologetic noise and gets up with a sigh, adjusting the strings of her pullover and then hugging Daniel. You watch them. You want to kiss Mark again. Life sucks that way.
Predictably, Mark turns down the offer of the ski lodge. He’s polite about it, too, especially since he and Daniel have grown a little bit closer since the start of your project. Daniel is, by no means, a “Mark anti”, but he would participate in the ribbing sometimes. Still, he’s insistent on the trip, saying it’s the best way to welcome December and that the forecast predicts a nice, thick layer of snow. It takes a week and two coffees everyday for Mark to give in, under the condition that he buy his own room when you get there.
Which, honestly, really, you have no problem with. Really, you think to yourself as you unceremoniously shove a knitted sweater into your bag. Really. Lia, who had graciously accepted the surprise, watches you abuse your bag, shoving sweater and scarf inside like they want to murder you. “Relax,” she says after a while. You laugh, playing it off (not so) casually.
The drive up there, courtesy of Daniel and a borrowed Prius, is fun, and cramped, but still decent, considering it was just an hour long. You’re in the back with Lia, and Mark is in charge of the AUX, which, of course, comes with its own bout of jokes. You even find the heart to participate and laugh in a few, not daring to meet his eyes. But all his songs are so fucking good. Frank Ocean, Jhene Aiko, SZA, and smaller indie artists flow from the speaker under his phone. The car ride has its share of epic karaoke moments—Mark plays ABBA, and Queen, solely to make sure everybody is belting out to the high heavens.
You get there when the sky’s purple and orange and there are some skiiers scattered around, though, since it’s not the proper holiday period, not too much. You trek over to the main lodge and that’s where Daniel pays for his reservations, and he and Lia retire to their room and promise to get up for dinner. You’re, again, alone with Mark in the lobby as you both stare at each other, willing the other to get up first. He does, to buy his own room like he said he would, and you can faintly hear the exchange from your seat on their nice, fluffy couch.
“I’m sorry, sir. We’re renovating a majority of the rooms for the holidays. That’s why reservations were a prerequisite for staying here.”
Mark sighs. “Okay, right. I’m so sorry. Um”—it’s at this point that you go up next to him, polite smile on your face, ready to take the room key and fuck off—“could we just get an extra blanket, please? For one of the beds.” The receptionist gives a curt smile, handing over the keycard and nodding. “That’ll be one queen-sized warm blanket, then,” she hums, typing away. The receptionist beside her goes to the back, presumably to get the blanket. Mark nods, smiling. “For two queen-sized beds, it must be a big room for both of them to fit comfortably,” he comments offhandedly, fiddling with the card.
The receptionist chuckles. “There is only one bed, sir.”
Oh, God. “Oh, God,” you whisper. “One bed?” She nods with an eye-crinkling smile, like her words have not just rained hell upon the two people across her. “One bed and a sofa,” she corrects herself, reading the information on the computer by the desk. Not wanting to risk your last shred of sanity, you smile profusely, walking quickly towards your room which, thankfully, is on the same floor, at the end of the hall. It’s a small, quaint place that would be honest-to-God perfect if not for the fact that—
“There’s one bed,” Mark sighs, the truth clicking into place. “Daniel is a fucking shithead.” You drop your bag onto the carpeted floor, surveying the room with a scrutinizing gaze. It’s sizable—a bed, a couch, a window. There’s a small wooden desk that looks like its legs can barely hold its weight, and then another door, leading to the bathroom. It’s not bad at all. But you’re exhausted, the sun’s long gone, and your resolve is shredding away as the seconds tick by. “Take the couch,” you say dismissively, “or the carpet.” You make a beeline for the bed, but Mark’s arm wraps around your waist, effectively stopping you.
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod “Shut up and let go of me, dick,” you stutter out. Mark loosens his grip and you shove him off, glaring at him. He gazes back down at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We can’t just make up terms without negotiation,” he says matter-of-factly, and you blow a raspberry. “Fine. Let’s negotiate then. I’m a girl and that puts me above you because chivalry isn’t dead, thus, boom, I get the bed.”
“I was in the uncomfortable passenger seat all day and my lower back hurts,” he counters.
“My legs are wobbly.”
“Bullshit. My back aches.”
“You already said that, it’s invalid.”
The back and forth only intensifies, your arguments growing more and more bizarre, until finally, your volume is so high Lia says she can hear it faintly, four doors down. 
“The couch looks comfy,” you try, but Mark stands firm. 
“Do you know what? The bed is big. It’s a big bed. And we’re not going to take up much space. If we divide the bed with the sofa pillows…” you pick up the cushions and line them up neatly along the middle, “…then we can sleep beside each other without having to make contact with each other.” He seems convinced, stepping closer to the bed and nodding. “Okay. I get first dibs on the shower.”
“Asshole,” you mutter, but you let him anyway. You’ve unpacked nearly all your things and he isn’t done yet, so you’ve resorted to scrolling mindlessly through Tiktok and laughing at just about everyone that pops up on screen. Mark finally exits after what feels like forever, and you keep your eyes trained on your screen to avoid looking at him. From your peripheral vision, he is very much shirtless. There are no words exchanged, the thickness in the air only building bit by bit.
Three hours later, post-dinner, post-abandoning the thought of working on your paper, you’re stumbling into your room after helping the very tipsy couple of the night into theirs. You’re beyond tired now, and you can tell Mark is, too, despite the lack of eye contact or communication between you. You don’t even look at him, brushing your teeth and removing your makeup and clipping your hair up into a bun. It’s when he does the same, and you’re both in bed, using your phones, that he finally breaks the silence.
“I’m not mad,” he says. His voice is even and calm, and you quickly shut your phone off and sit up, peering over the pillow boundary you had created. You look at him expectantly before he sighs and continues. “Why did you leave?”
You stand up, getting out, trying to increase distance. You’ve never really liked confrontation. “I was weirded out,” you spill, “and scared…? I guess with the nearness of being caught, and with all the lights on, I was just shocked back to reality.”
He sits up. “What’s reality?”
“I don’t—know,” you splutter, getting back on the bed. “Not kissing you?”
He laughs, and then it becomes silent. “Right. Let’s sleep, then.” Without another word, he pulls his lamp off, and only the white moonlight is left illuminating the both of you. Shucking yourself under the covers, feeling your heart practically thump out of your chest. You honestly think he can hear it, or at least feel it. Suddenly the boundary doesn’t do much. You turn away from him, nervous, and you can faintly hear his breathing even out. You shut your eyes for a second. When you open them again, he’s looking right at you. “Just checking to see if you’re asleep,” he says quietly. You nod. And then you lean upwards, just a touch, so your lips nearly brush slightly. “Night,” you say, before turning to sleep for real.
You’re not sure when. And how. Sure, you faintly remember digging your legs sleepily through the sheets to find warmth and tangling Mark’s in your own. But still—when you’re up, the pillow fort is at your feet, hanging precariously off the four post bed, and your back is against Mark’s chest. His breath fans lightly over your hair and you blearily register what happened overnight. His arm is slung over your middle, it’s quiet, and oh Christ, he is hard.
It’s fairly late. He’s hard. The antique clock mounted up on the wall tells you it’s around nine, which essentially gave you seven hours of sleep. He’s hard. You bask in the warmth of Mark for a while before your resolve solidifies and you gently push his arm off from its position on your hips. He only comes on stronger, wrapping fully around your waist, mumbling incoherence into your hair. He’s hard. You squeeze your eyes shut, summoning sleep to overcome you quickly, but it never does. Dread overcomes you as you feel your underwear grow damp.
“Mm,” Mark grunts, his hand around your waist loosening. You move away but his head suddenly lolls into the crook of your neck, his lips touching the side of it. You whimper. He’s a fucking asshole, even when he’s asleep. You pinch his arm, jolting him to half-awakeness, and you roll away, despite your body’s protests.
He blinks his eyes open. “Sorry, shit,” he says, voice deep and ridden with sleep. You’re fucked.
“It’s okay,” you splutter instead. “Just go back to sleep.” You faintly register that you sound just as exhausted as he does, and you bury your head back into the covers. Everything, plus the sound of his voice, has you dripping, and you breathe in deeply to poorly disguise a whimper. He chuckles, already half-asleep, from where he is, and it’s quiet for a few minutes before you realize he’s fallen asleep. Knowing Lia and Daniel will be busy for a while, you pull a spare pillow over your head and chant to yourself before falling back asleep, too.
When you awaken, the bed is cold and empty, and the shower’s running. You check the time to find only an hour has passed, but you’re much more awake now, getting up and knocking incessantly on the bathroom door. “Hurry,” you demand hoarsely, “I want to go skiing.” You hear a muffled okay and scurry over to your bag to find the pair of leggings you had packed for this. You also find your parka, and you pull off your shirt to clasp on a bra.
“Not that I don’t mind,” Mark says, eliciting a yelp from you as you tug a sweater on at record speed, “but generally, that kind of thing only goes unnoticed in nudist colonies. I could research some for you, if you’d—ow! I was joking, God!” You bonk him twice over the head with the Bible on the bedside table, your brows furrowed angrily. “You looked, asshat,” you say, collecting your things and locking yourself in the bathroom.
When it becomes increasingly evident that Lia and Daniel have no plans of exiting their room, you grumble and resort to skiing alone. But as you’re shuffling out, bundled up, you spot Mark leaning against the exit waiting for you. He looks up and tsks. “About fucking time,” he says, holding the door open for you. It’s not that cold out—maybe you’re just used to having snow and chilly weather, and so is Mark—so you barely shiver, walking around and looking for a good place to ski.
“Forget skiing,” Mark says after a few rounds. “Let’s go sledding. I have a thing.”
“A toboggan, you mean.”
“A funny word. Really, just say sled.”
You let up, anyway, the bright sky and cold ground sending serotonin right into you. Sure enough, Mark does have a nice, blue sled that he lets you on, and then the two of you are bolting down the hill at breakneck speed, laughing all the way. It’s quite a long ride, and you’re smiling and yelping so much the cloth you’ve used to cover your neck has ridden down, the cold air hitting your face harshly.
You land very ungracefully—the toboggan hits a small tree and sends you and Mark catapulting in the same direction, your hands clawing at the air for expense. You find Mark’s arm and cling onto it in the split second you’re in the air, landing on a clearing of thick snow. The arm you’ve clung onto pulls you closer, Mark grunting “be careful,” and when the whole fiasco’s over, you’re smiling like an idiot, and you’re right on top of Mark.
You’re not straddling him or anything, but you’ve just happened to land with your face a little above his. You can’t stop laughing, your face flushed and red with the cold air hitting your face. So you laugh. Why wouldn’t you laugh? It was a good day. A good ride down the hill. So you keep laughing until they’re reduced to giggles, Mark laughing right along as you pull down the covering of his mouth and tug his beanie off, ruffling your hands in his hair and dipping down to kiss him.
He kisses you right back, his lips cold but quickly growing warm with the friction. You smile into the kiss, your hands roaming all over his pink face. The kiss is giggly and light, your hands all over each other as the sunlight filters in through the thick trees overhead.
You pull away after a while. “I hate you,” you whisper. He presses a kiss to your jawline and lets it linger there. “You think I don’t?”
Stage 3: Bargaining, Depression|
You’ve begun to type the structure out when Lia tugs on your pajamas, her tone insistent and curious. “What’s up with you and Mark?” she presses, her cheek pressed to your stomach. You fervently hope she doesnt notice how your breathing quickens, and, keeping your voice even, you answer. “We’re…thinking about things.”
Which—you were thinking about things, to be fair. There were things to be thought and you had to think about them. It was a broad half-truth. It had been two weeks since the ski lodge thing, and you and Mark had decided it was probably best to shut the fuck up about everything you had done. (Everything meaning a few kisses here and there, and maybe a little more under the covers.) You’d hated yourself for hiding it from Lia, but you and Mark were actually feeling hesitant about moving forward with whatever you were. There was a lot of ambiguity and questions, and until you could clear it up yourself, you knew you weren’t ready to tell anybody else. You had talked about it already—clearly, the two of you were beyond jumping straight into a relationship after not liking each other that much and then becoming hesitant friends.
But it was, if you had to admit it to yourself, nice having that little secret.
“I’d want to tell Lia soon,” you tease, walking steadily beside Mark. The afternoon sun is warm on your heads, the snow falling intermittently. He turns with a small smile. “I’d want to tell Hyuck, too.” You scoff, burying your head in his chest. You probably look fucking disgusting. Around you, Washington Square Park is full of natives and tourists, and college students like you, all scurrying around and giving you that very much holiday feel.
He buys you a hot cocoa and hands it to you. “Are you heading home soon?”
You take a sip, your tongue hot. “If my ratty dorm counts as home, then yes.”
“Home is a feeling, not a place. Does your ratty dorm feel like home?”
“Kind of. Lia’s there. And so is the rat infestation in the ceiling.”
Mark nearly chokes on his cocoa. “You’re gross as fuck.”
You let out a loud laugh, your beanie nearly falling off with the bounciness of it. Mark reaches behind you to catch it, pressing a kiss to your lips in the process, soft and light and God, you like it. A lot. “Clumsy,” he remarks, pulling it back on and dragging a generous amount of your hair in front of your eyes as he does it. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon, and thank God we’re nearly done with this paper.”
“It was my genius idea to combine bargaining and depression,” you quip. “That’s my gift to you. Merry Christmas, Mark Lee.” He laughs at that. His laugh, you’ve noticed, is goddamn loud, and it’s a literal cackle, but he always looks so happy when he laughs. And buoyant. “You look stupid,” you say, but the smile on your face is undeniable. He glares playfully at you, taking your hand and walking you both in the direction of your building.
“New York in the snow,” he hums. “Always a great place.”
“It’s full of tourists,” you counter. Always disagreeing.
He chuckles and then, like clockwork—like how you’ve done it for the past six dates—you separate when you’re just shy of a meter away from the lobby entrance. Your fingers curl in search of his, and you jog up the steps, eager to get into the warmth of the building. The lobby’s pretty empty, save for a couple of students. Mark’s ahead of you, already pressing the elevator button and waiting impatiently. 
“We’re alone,” he sing-songs, his eyebrows wiggling. The doors open right as you take Mark’s hand, and you look up to meet Daniel’s wide eyes. Then you look to the right to meet Lia’s.
Despite your inner turmoil, you remain nonchalant, pinching Mark’s wrist instead of holding it like you’d planned. “That’s why our professor fucking hates you,” you say, narrowing your eyes. Your heart is beating a mile a minute, but you muster a neutral expression, shoving your hands back into your pockets. Lia knows you, though, and her furrowed eyebrows and parted lips say everything—but you just shrug, playing off what they could have caught you doing. “Hey,” you say, walking into the elevator with Mark. It all blows over.
AKA: Daniel has to drag a curious Lia away from you, with a promise that you would converse later. You and Mark are alone again, in the elevator, your hands barely touching, laughs loud. It’s all blurry after that. You’re high on a laugh and the thought of a kiss—you drag him over to your room, hands in his hair, breathless, loose kisses. You’re both so exhausted, though, that all you manage to extend your energy to is taking your tops off and making out lazily to the songs you’d recommended to each other.
“Mm,” he says when one of your songs starts playing. “It’s a nice song.” You nod with a smile. “I know it is, it’s one of my recommendations. It’s called Softly.” He plays with the strap of your bra. “I’ll give it more of a listen, then. Also, a red bra to school? Whatever will the professors think,” he jokes lightly, pressing insistent, but soft kisses on your shoulder. You laugh, pinching the inner part of his arm and eliciting a swear from him. “I was joking! I know you wore this for me, stupid.” The wind whistles outside, barely audible from the half-open window across the room, overlapping with the music.
This all feels too real, now.
You pout lazily against his bare chest. “Get off before Lia gets in,” you mumble, your heart beginning to race. He does, for what it’s worth, rolling off your bed with a loud thump and tugging his shirt and sweater back on. You watch him (fondly) annoyedly, your hair draping over you as you get up to properly shove him out. “Out, out,” you chant, laughing, and he giggles, turning abruptly to poke at your waist.
“Shut up,” you groan, a smile on your face. There’s a beat, then he pulls you close and kisses you, running outside right after with a literal guffaw. You watch him, wrapping your fleece blanket around your frame as he runs to the elevator, sweater backwards and hair messy.
Doubts are normal. This you’re assured of, but your head pounds with the sheer amount of things you’re cramming into it. You squint impossibly harder, trying to get the nail polish into the crook of Lia’s nail. You’ve probably overdone it, judging by the way she jabs her knuckle in between your eyebrows, her face contorted in worry. “Are you…okay?”
You narrow your eyes, the inner debate of telling her raging on and on. The nail polish drips onto her fingernail, rolling onto her pant leg, and she yelps, but her eyes are still on you. “You can tell me anything,” she says, softer this time. You know she’s serious—you know you can. You always have. You told her about every fling, one night stand, pregnancy scare, bad grade, hot professor, and spoiled deli food you’d encountered since you ever became friends. She knew you. And you were so sure she knew what you were about to say.
Except you didn’t know what you wanted to say. Your feelings were a mess, and you wanted one thing as much as you wanted the other. You couldn’t place what you wanted, and if you had to narrow it down, you’d realize that you were scared of what you wanted. You were never really one for commitment, or a relationship, or really anything, for that matter. And the fact that you were so hung up on thinking about what you and Mark would become—Mark? It all seemed so dystopian, almost. Like you’d never expected it. Your friendship was a childhood bubble that popped in the span of your first high school semester, and that was that. But just two days ago you were being kissed all over by the same guy you’d had a cutthroat student council president competition with.
It seemed so absurd? Crazy? Those adjectives were a little over the top. Deep down, if you dug deep enough into the parts you didn’t even tell yourself, you knew what you were. And if anybody else were to know, it would be Lia.
“I’m scared,” you choke out, your voice shaky. “I’m scared and sad, and happy and angry, and I want this but I don’t.” You cover the nail polish, shaking your head. “This is all so new to me. I hate how much I feel, especially because it feels so wrong. You know me—relationships are just not cut out for me. They’re scary and new. And people in relationships turn all gooey. I’m scared that this won’t last, but I’m scared that it will, and I’ll be doomed to an eternity of bland, padlocked relationships. It’s weird. I could be feeling this way for anyone, but it had to be Mark? If only I didn’t hate him, then maybe we could’ve gone off on a better foot. If only this whole thing never fucking happened, right?”
“It’s okay,” Lia cuts in. “Being scared is okay. It’s part of the whole process. And nobody said you had to get along like conjoined twins in a relationship. They just go when they go and end when they end. Not every relationship starts as a high school sweetheart thing and ends with three kids and a picket fence. And I’m so sure Mark would be so understanding if you didn’t like him or if you chose not to continue.”
“You knew?”
She laughs. “Of course I knew. I know a post-sex glow when I see one, and I was blinded that morning at the ski lodge.” You groan, pinching her indignantly, hiding your face in your hands as she laughs out of view. “Okay. Take some time and think about it, but for now, I want to get my nails done, so.” 
It’ll be a week before you come up with what you want, and the whole time you generally avoid talking about solemn topics with him in person. 
It’ll be another few days before you finally talk to him personally—with your paper nearly finished, you suggest a meeting at the library. It’s just two days before Christmas Eve, and you know Mark’s going to be driving to Canada, so you want to snatch him away for your own personal time for just a second. The snow has all but thickened as you meet outside the building, the silence deafening.
“Hi,” he says, smiling. You know he’s probably picked up on your erratic, quieter behavior in the past several days, but you gulp and lead him inside anyways, to your favorite section. “It’s almost Christmas Eve,” he says, watching you stall, surrounded by Philosophy books from just about every century. “I know,” you say, hoping you don’t sound too nervous.
“You sound nervous,” he says.
“Do I?” you ask shakily, your voice taking on an unnaturally high pitch. “I mean, er. I guess I sort of am. I guess I’ve been thinking about everything lately—about you and me and everything that just happened so suddenly. Because—because it did happen so suddenly. I just…needed time? Yeah, time. To think about everything. Because it all happened so quickly, I…” you stutter. “I’m scared of these things. I’m not used to them. Relationships? Things that last longer than a couple weeks? I don’t like these. 
I have something bigger I want to focus on and anybody who gets in the way just isn’t worth it. And it’s so weird how it was you out of all people I started thinking about it with. Usually I just have the rare fling and then they’re gone, and I’m not even mad. But you’re different. And I like it. 
But I just needed time to find out if I really liked it. If I really wanted to try. I know it’s only been a few weeks, and I probably sound really fucking stupid, but you get me—you get me, right? And that’s how I realized—if it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. I don’t know why I overthought it. I mean, it’s a good thing and a bad thing that I did. Like, on one hand, I got to really think about how this would play out, and on the other, I’d just end up spiraling. And it’s just weird. I hope you don’t know I hated you. Hate you? Hated you. I was just—it was all so juvenile. Everything just stemmed from that one awfully dumb high school rivalry. But other than that, you were always a cool…see what I mean? I’m kind of rambling—even if I thought I had planned this out. And. Yeah. I dunno. I fucking…I hate you, stop laughing.”
Mark smiles down at you—you’re busy pretending to read a Sartre book to look unfazed, but your flickering gaze says it all. 
“Okay, stupid,” he says, bordering onto a laugh. “If that’s your way of saying you’re willing to give this a try, then I graciously accept. Should I be saying something equally long? I—is that how this works?”
You roll your eyes and kiss him instead, pulling him close, Sartre’s postulates dropping to the floor alongside your tiptoes.
Stage 4: Acceptance|
“Acceptance is just that. Just accepting that you love that person after weeks or months of all the other stages. With her, it was. Like. It’s the whole sitting down after silence, having some time for the revelation to set in before you realize you love them. Or like them? Well, love them, I guess. But I don’t know why you would be asking me this.”
You bury your head further into Mark’s shoulder, your eyes strained from how long they’d been trained onto your screen. You smile up at Daniel, thanking him for the input and beginning to type it in, watching Lia doze off on his shoulder. “We’re asking because we’re not quite there yet,” Mark hums, “it’s just February. It’s barely been two months.” You nod, watching Mark type where you left off on the document. Daniel snorts from across you. “You’re just about, I guess.” Mark chuckles, shrugging so your head bounces off his shoulder unceremoniously.
“Like I’d ever fall in love with that shitstorm,” he says pointedly.
“Oh, and I’d fall in love with this dickwad?”
“You’re perfect for each other. Bullying, but we all know Mark brought back gifts from Canada and that you stitched an initial onto his sweater.”
“To practice my embroidery. Also, I stitched Mark’s initial. M. Asshole.”
“Okay,” whistles Daniel, his hand unconsciously coming up to make sure Lia doesn’t fall off his shoulder. “But hey, you’re just about to submit this paper and I’m fondly remembering all the times you despised each other. And when you”—he points at you, devilish grin on his face—“started gushing to Lia about how he”—he then turns to Mark—“kissed you at Johnny’s party.”
“God, it’s not the time for that yet, we’re still a fresh couple,” you groan, burying your head in your hands. “You have so much dirt on me, Choi.” Mark just laughs, though, loudly, bringing the other cafe-goers’ attention to yours. He bites your shoulder to stifle it, eliciting a laugh from you. “I agree, there should be a certain time requirement for pre-relationship embarrassing stories,” Mark says, closing his laptop. Lia gets up at that point, already half-awake from the ruckus (AKA Mark’s laugh), pulling on Daniel’s sleeve. “Alright, and that’s my cue to get this girl some more coffee and then go.”
“Mm, I’ll come with,” you say, “I need a refresher before we leave soon, anyway.”
You walk in between them, your fingers laced in Lia’s as she squeezes them sleepily. They order first and then they’re off with a smile and a polite goodbye, leaving you to order your drink. You gaze up at the menu, and then down at—
“Long time no see,” Chan says with a knowing beam. “How is your not boyfriend boyfriend?”
“Well, he’s my boyfriend now.”
“See, I always know. What do you want?”
“An iced ca—how did you know?” You ask, tempted.
“It’s just…the energy? It was a hit or miss, but I kinda got that feeling that something was going to happen.”
“Hmm,” you hum. “An iced caramel then.”
“And a black coffee for her best friend!” Hollers a new voice that you could never miss, turning slowly towards the entrance to meet Donghyuck’s crazy eyes. He’s in a suit, which isn’t unusual given the sheer amount of presentations he’s had to do since the new year started. You roll your eyes but put in the extra cash anyway, much to Chan’s amusement. Hyuck nears you with a sly grin. “I hear you’ll be submitting your paper soon. I just want my name in there so I’m in your professor’s good graces.”
“She’s not even going to be your professor, Hyuck,” you say, taking your drink and smiling at Chan. You and Donghyuck both walk back to where Mark’s sitting, you beside him and Hyuck across the both of you. “Yes, but it pays to be in somebody’s good graces, I swear. See what happened? I got you two together. I orchestrated your entire love st—”
“Okay, now you’re just lying, Hyuck,” Mark says with a laugh, finishing up the first few paragraphs and closing his laptop. “We’re not even in love.” But his friend lets out a teasing smile, his eyes narrowed, and he gets up with a loud farewell and alibi about “being needed by my better friends.” You assume he’s talking about Jeno.
You walk to Mark’s room alongside him, thanks to the promise of his roommate, Jaemin, sleeping at a friend’s. Your fingers are intertwined loosely. The sun’s setting and Mark’s room is sheathed in beautiful shades of orange and pink, a vast array of dusk settling over the space. It happens quietly, but full of laughs, which is how it happens when you’re both tired and/or shitfaced. You do this a lot—a routine of sharing new songs or books you’d picked up over the week and then making out while they play in the background or while one of you read. It’s awfully, horribly, terribly fucking intimate. 
“Your bra sucks,” he jokes.
You love it.
“Get better abs and we can talk about it,” you counter, poking his toned stomach. He really, fully guffaws at that, pulling you onto his lap and then tugging his guitar out from where it stands at the corner. You flop back onto his bed, watching him play—and then registering the familiar opening of the Jonas Brothers song you used to request nearly everyday. “Lovebug,” you muse with a smile, singing along to his voice, carried away. You’re sleepy and light, and you know deep down—in that space of yourself where you’re all but honest—that you were going to fall in love with him someday.
Later, when all you’re doing is hugging him as he reads your latest Philosophy requirement to you, he pauses.
“Is this the 21st century idea of love?” He asks idly, unclasping your bra and connecting the moles on your shoulder. You hum. 
“It’s the Gen Z idea,” you say, connecting the ones on his bare back. “And this isn’t love.”
“Corny.” he smiles against your collarbones. You kiss his neck. It’s all very gradual.
hope you liked it :) drop an ask! I absolutely love all types of feedback 
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fandomsonrequests · 3 years
Text
tv trope
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fandom: be more chill
characters: michael mell
reader: gn! 
word count: 1.5k+
summary:  To him, you were the walking definition of those television tropes of the denim-clad, badass person who practically oozes confidence. The people wanted to date or be with you when they got to know you. And he was whipped. Like so whipped, not even Jeremy’s pining over Christine matched up to it. And that alone is saying something. 
a/n: AHHHHH i love Michael mell (and george salazar cos why the hell not) so much ;^; he’s such a dork i just wanna hug him
Michael Mell always thought you were so cool— like The Matrix kind of cool. You weren’t really popular but you had a reputation around the school for being this tough kid who always stood up for themselves and didn’t take any shit being thrown at them. And, when circumstances permit it, you rode your freaking motorcycle to school. Not only that, you didn’t really flaunt anything off and spoke up when you needed to.
To him, you were the walking definition of those television tropes of the denim-clad, badass person who practically oozes confidence. The people wanted to date or be with you when they got to know you. 
And he was whipped. Like so whipped, not even Jeremy’s pining over Christine matched up to it. And that alone is saying something. 
But at the same time, he was scared. He wanted to talk to you so badly, to get to know you past the television trope he saw you as. He wanted to get to know you for you. And he probably would’ve done so already if all his insecurities and anxious thoughts wouldn’t come crashing down against him like a violent wave. 
For example, in Chemistry class. You were situated in the seat right in front of him and when Mrs. Clarke requested the students to pick a partner for the lab activity, Michael hesitated in reaching out towards you. His heart was all in for it but his head was telling him otherwise. 
What if they could smell the weed on you? What if they find your Pac-Man pin collection on your bag childish? What if they think you’re weird? What if they don’t like you? 
The poor boy would retract his hand and shrivel away as he watches you get whisked away by one of his other classmates. Now he understood what Jeremy felt before he got with Christine— talking to your crush was much easier said than done. 
And the cycle repeats daily. He works up the courage, getting some hype from his best bud, which slowly crumbles the second he comes within a five feet radius from you. He turns on his heel and runs away back to his locker, scolding himself for chickening out.
But fate was getting tired of this beating around the bush and decided to take matters in its own hands. 
Michael decided to go to the library to pick up some books he needed for school while he waited for Christine and Jeremy to finish up with drama. So imagine his surprise when he saw you in the corner of the library in the “reading nook”, a very familiar comic in your hands. His favorite video game had released a few issues of their new comic, a spin-off to the main plot in the game. Of course, he bought all of them— out of impulse— and was already halfway through the first half of the series. So when he spotted the bright cover of the comic amongst the warm, monotone colors of the library, he couldn’t help but be intrigued. 
Before he knew it, his feet were dragging him towards you. He took note of the faded Mötley Crüe shirt you wore along with a pair of acid-washed ripped jeans and your scuffed sneakers. A pair of earbuds were plugged into your ears, your head bopping along to whatever music you were listening to as you read your comic. 
He fiddles with the frayed sleeves of his red hoodie covered in those iron-on patches, thoughts of what he was going to say to you running through his head. He eventually ended up just backing out and settling with pining for you from afar but his movement had caught your attention, making you look up from your comic book.
Michael freezes up as his nerves took over him- eyes wide behind his dark-rimmed glasses. You quirk a curious brow, plucking out one of your earbuds before offering a small smile. “Hey Mell,” You greet cooly. “What’s up?”
You knew his name??? 
“Wh- wha- wait you know me??” The boy stammers as he nervously meets your gaze. 
You let out a soft chuckle and he couldn’t help but fall in love with the sound. “Yeah, you’re in a few of my classes. Of course I’d know you.” You uncross your legs and close your comic book to entertain him. 
“Oh, wow.. Uhm, it just seems l-like, uhm,” Michael continued, voice shaky while his hands grew clammy. “It, I mean you, you just s-seem like the type to not r-really know others.” 
You nod in understanding at his defense. “It’s the vibes I give off isn’t it?” You sigh and shake your head. You look up at him again and scoot over to the other side of the couch situated in the reading nook to offer him some space to sit on. “Well, I hope you believe me when I say that I’m not really scary.” 
He looks over to space you had made from him and back to you before going back to the space. It goes on for a couple of moments before he decides to sit down- but on the opposite side of the couch. You two say nothing for a while, just observing one another before you speak up again.
“Anyway, is there anything you need?” You tilt your head curiously, the small smile returning to your lips. 
“Ah, no not really,” Michael admitted and scratches the back of his head. “I just saw that you were reading Apocalypse of The Damned: The Laboratorium and I kinda just… gravitated towards you.”
Your smile morphs into a bright grin and the speckled boy decided right there and then, there was nothing brighter than that rare, million-dollar-smile of yours. “You know Apocalypse of The Damned?” You ask excitedly and clutch the comic book to your chest. 
“Like the back of my hand,” He replies as confidence starts to flood his system. “I practically bought the whole series.” 
Your hands fly to your mouth to muffle your excitement, shifting in your spot to look at him properly. “Have you finished it?”
“Halfway through it. But don’t worry, I’ll try not to give out any spoilers.” 
You let out some kind of excited squawk, red coating your cheeks at how stupid you sounded. This was definitely something Michael hadn’t expected. He expected you to be cold, aloof, maybe even a bit grouchy like Jade from Victorious but your personality was quite the opposite. And he couldn’t help but grow more enamored by that. 
“I wish I had friends that geeked out with me about these kinds of things,” You huff after your small laughing fit. “They always make fun of me for it.”
“What?? Are they crazy? They’re assholes for doing that to you.” 
“No, no. They aren’t really mean but they think it’s too dorky.”
“Well,” He motioned to you. “They’re clearly missing out on things.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, bashfully looking down at your hands while toying with the loose end of your earbuds. You nibble at the inside of your cheek before piping up again. “You’re pretty cool, Mell. We should hang out more often.”
Michael’s jaw almost drops at that. Not only did you invite him to hang out with you, but you had actually found him interesting. That you didn’t find him or any of his quirks weird. It was such an elating feeling, one that spurred his confidence even more.
“Does this weekend sound okay for you? We could go out, grab some sushi and maybe binge read the comics together at the old drive-in.” He offers, a bit sheepish, and you nod beaming from ear to ear. 
“Sounds great,” You fish out your phone and hand it over to him. “If you don’t mind, can I get your number? So we can coordinate this whole… I guess date later in the week.” 
Michael’s face turns a deep shade of red and you couldn’t help but giggle at that, your own cheeks flushing the same color. He was so damn adorable, you wondered why you hadn’t spoken to him sooner. He types in his number and hands you back your phone, smiling uncontrollably at what was happening. 
You glance down at the time on your device, seeing that you had to go home soon. “Well, I better head out. Keep in touch will you?”
“Y-yeah, roger that.” 
You stood up and gathered your things, turning back to him as you flashed him one last smile. “I’ll see you around, Mell.” 
He waved goodbye as you walked to the exit for the library, the lovestruck expression never leaving his face. He sighs dreamily, knowing full well that if his friends saw him now they’d tease him for being so whipped for you. He didn’t mind though because at least, he had something to look forward to this weekend.
Michael gave himself a mental pat on the shoulder for working up the courage to get to know the real you as he picked up the textbooks he needed. At least he knew now that you weren’t some tv trope but someone so much more. 
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B2:S - Chapter 5
Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.
Here be lots of Viren deets, Best Boy Soren deets, some writing/continuity stuff, worldbuilding appreciation and half of a theory, Detective Rayla, Moon Temple geeking, Claudium and dark magic, and more!
Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.
(I know for darn sure that I wrote up a post for chapter 4, but I can't find it anywhere so I guess Tumblr ate it and I'll have to redo it at some point, but today is not that day)
Viren, my evil dude, my bad guy, coming in clutch with the worldbuilding and backstory again! If you want to know decades of information, you gotta talk to Viren. Or read his scenes, at least. Here, he seems to not sleep much when he has a big problem to analyze his way through. Solutions trump pretty much everything else in this guy's life, and he's had a really hard week with a lot of new and complicated problems. Of course he's getting sleep-deprived trying to find his way through them all.
Harrow put so much trust in Viren when he made him High Mage! He just threw himself extra hard at that Lady Justice blindfold, didn't he? Didn't really want to see what Viren was doing in his magic study, so he left Viren to his devices. And Viren has a lot of devices.
Also, this is fascinating: Viren made the secret passage to his "less official study" in Katolis Castle! And he was inspired to do so by the way his own mentor kept the Puzzle House. What else could a Puzzle House be, except a place with secret passages? Yay! secret headcanon that "the Puzzle House" is just "Katolis Castle" from Kid Viren's perspective tho
So either Viren built all of those passageways, or at least the ones to his dungeon. Which means he has to have, or know where to get, a stash of those glowing blue Moonshadow crystals. Hmmm.
I can't wait to learn more about Kpp'Ar and young Viren, btw. From this description of Viren and all his literal secret ways, it feels like another parallel between Viren and Runaan, with the whole "secretive paths, members only, insider knowledge" type stuff. Only the really cool members of this cult club get to know the secrets, and guess what, kid, you're cool now but you can never tell anyone, okay? Our secret.
Yeahhh, that'll never backfire in any way for either of them.
Kpp'Ar calling puzzles and secrets "man-made magic," though. Yes sir, knowledge is indeed power.
This chapter mentions Runaan by name, from Viren's perspective. Generally that would imply that Viren knows his name, even though assassins do not share their names, and Runaan didn't seem to give his to Viren in the first book. However, there was a scene in book one where the last paragraph switched perspective from Viren to Runaan - a technique that's very common in visual media like movies and shows and gives you that "ohoho they left the room and didn't notice this, but you do!" vibe. Using Runaan's name there in book one, where Viren couldn't see it but readers could, helps them keep track of the assassin's story arc while maintaining Viren's racism.
So in book two, in which Runaan has no onscreen scenes (alas), using his name in a scene that calls back to the events in book one helps us remember what happened in that dungeon cell. It would be a bit muddier to recall the specifics if Viren kept thinking about Runaan as "Elf." So I'm cool with the perspective nudge because it serves a narrative purpose: clarity. But I'm also enjoying the angst of considering that, somehow, Viren learned Runaan's name either during or after the coining spell. Mwa ha ha haaa. (Obligatory "Keep my pretty name outta your mouth" goes here)
Okay, back to Viren's scheming! He took the mirror because it was human-sized in a dragon lair. He knew it didn't really fit there, and that made it interesting, so he stole it. But he realized it was really powerful when Runaan wouldn't tell him squat about it - the assassin's instinct to protect Xadian secrets from human hands meant that Viren was holding a very powerful Xadian secret. And that just made him want it all the more. Ah, Runaan, if only your relationship with lying was, like, the exact opposite of what it is. Nyx could've spun Viren a believable tale in 2 minutes flat.
Also of interest: Viren considers his cursed coins to be a final fate. He expects Runaan to remain in his coin forever. With the Chekhov's coins still extant in the storyline, we can assume that they'll come up again eventually, but Viren has no current plans to do anything with his elf money except carry it around.
It's worth noting that Viren admits that he got impatient when he trapped Runaan in the coin. Runaan's first fate in Katolis was supposed to be death at Soren's hands, but Claudia "saved" him from that. His next fate was to become spell components, but Viren's frustration with his stubbornness "saved" him from that fate, too. So now he's in a coin, where no one can chop him up at all. Yay? No, boo!
We get one last line about Runaan before Viren shifts gears: he makes a point of noting for us that Runaan's shackles are still locked shut. However much of Runaan made it into that coin - body, soul, hair care products - he was magicked there, pulled right out of his restraints.
The creepy black liquid that Viren pours right into his eyes is the last of a powerful potion he got from Kpp'Ar, and its recipe is ancient! Humans used it back in the age of Elarion to see through the illusions of the world. And we get a delightfully creepy bit of description about the preparation of this serum, which makes it abundantly clear that it's a Moon magic-based concoction, harvested from eyeless vipers on a moonless night, with the threat of irrevocable madness ("madness" by whose definition, though) if it's done wrong-
Hang on. Hold up. This is a Plato's Cave reference. OH MY GOD.
No no I'm fine, this is brilliant. Sorry, sorry, I couldn't figure why there was so much description for a potion prep that Viren didn't even have to perform himself. But now I get it. I see the light. HA. I should make a separate post for this, it's amazing.
Anyway, for reference, the humans who used this serum were called the Oracles of Ophidia, and Ophidia is a taxonomy group that includes all modern snakes. Can you say "creepy ancient snake rites"? I can! Woo!
Viren activates the serum with a spell, but apparently he's never done it before. He's not sure if it's supposed to be hot and bubbly, and he worries that it's been tainted by moonlight.
Oh, I do hope so.
The magic potion hurts, a lot. Viren will do just about anything, to himself or anyone, to do what he believes is necessary. He just risked madness and blindness to find out what this mirror does! Viren. Can you just. Take a nap or something. Have a Snickers.
This chapter gives us a fun clue that I don't remember from the show: when Viren's vision clears and he can see, his reflection has white pupils and the room reflected in the mirror has inverted colors. You know where else has inverted colors?
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You know who else got white pupils for a hot second?
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Okay, now it makes sense! Viren and Lujanne were both seeing into the realm beyond life and death. Him with his moon magic potion, and her with her moon powers on a full moon night at the Moon Nexus. Which is Very Interesting! Is it a direct hint about Aaravos's location, or just a separate cool detail? Orrr, does it look like a direct hint because Aaravos is actually trapped in the world beyond life and death, but it's actually separate and we'll see something about white pupils again later on?
Viren really does have self-esteem issues, we all picked up on it with his rant at his reflection. He throws a fit when he catches himself wondering if he's actually worthless. In the book version of his tantrum, he shoves the mirror and hurls a candelabra instead of flipping a table. He didn't need to shove the mirror to set the fire, but it's in here. Foreshadowing that perhaps, if push comes to shove, Viren will choose himself over Aaravos? Giving Aaravos time to peek through and see that the coast is clear?
Soren, my boyyyyy. He has a rough night at the Moon Nexus because two sides of him are fighting with each other. He struggles to understand Callum's friendship with Rayla, and he also fantasizes about chopping off Rayla's head. One of these is a pretty ordinary thing to do. The other is Soren's internalization of what he needs to do to gain his father's approval. If he brought his dad a chopped off elf head every week, he'd probably feel a lot more confident because Viren would praise him a lot more.
Okay, okay, omg, is it just me, or does the "Moonshadow Madness" story, as it's told in the book, seem like Soren just doesn't know what a monsterfucker is? He thinks an elf bite puts humans under a spell. But vampires are sexy, and some people want them to do more to them than just bite them. A passionate kiss under the moonlight could look very bitey, especially if one of the participants has horns and you're already culturally trained to hate them. No yeah, I'm already headcanoning an actual human-elf kiss that got misunderstood by an observer long ago.
it's Lujanne isn't it, we all know, because what is a love spell but a sweet soft illusion, I mean how else does she get supplies for her Caldera, I ask you, and also Corvus was totally sent to investigate once and he told Soren at camp what he saw
And then back to magefam angst: Soren pretending that his sister's nose-tapping is stupid, even though he actually thinks it's cool, just because their dad thinks it's stupid. Viren, istg. Let your kids like harmless things. It's so cute that Soren taps his nose back at her, though! Like they have their own sibling code. I hope we get to see the nose tap again, especially now that they've chosen different sides. It could mean so much, that they're not too far apart yet.
Rayla knows what buttery pancakes smell like. I love this. Do Moonshadow elves have butter and pancakes, does Rayla eat a stack of eight giant pancakes in the morning? Orrrr it is just illusion food? I don't care, let Rayla have pancakes! Everyone loves pancakes. Pancakes will save the world. this message brought to you by the fact that I can't eat pancakes rn, send help
I love that Rayla is both sus of the pancakes and hungry, and that combines into a very motivated "I will get to the bottom of this" attitude. She kind of goes into Poirot Mode when she inserts herself into Soren and Ellis's conversation about Ava, explaining about the wolf's illusion leg and segueing into her claim that the pancakes taste sus. Claudia confirms she used dark magic, and Rayla is furious. It's different than the show's version in that it puts Rayla in detective mode, as the only Moonshadow elf in the scene, and boy does she take that role seriously. Also, she doesn't actually swallow the dark magic pancake bite. It ends up on the ground just like Lujanne's grubs from that earlier meal. These poor kids are so nutrient-starved. You guys gotta eat!!
Rayla's determination and prejudices and the fact that she super knows Harrow is dead all dovetail to make her try repeatedly to persuade Callum that Soren and Claudia are Not To Be Trusted. It's nice that the book keeps taking the time to point out that Rayla is Well Intentioned But Flawed, just like Callum and pretty much every other character in the show. No one is Right All The Time, no one Knows More Than Everyone Else.
Callum loving the sound of Claudia's unique voice is so wholesome. When you like someone, it only makes sense that you like all the things about them that they can't change - like the sound of Claudia's voice. Her choices with dark magic, not so much!
Claudia seems to have the same concerns Soren does about Callum's relationship with Rayla, but she comes out and asks him. The inherent possession implied in "your elf" is interesting, though. Elves are not people to Claudia. They're enemies who can be disassembled for the magic inside them. So maybe more like robots than living beings, if she knew what a robot was. Maybe she heard Soren's "Moonshadow Madness" story and realized he totally missed the kissing implications - but she didn't, and now she's genuinely worried that Rayla could kiss Callum under a full moon and enchant him to do her will. Good thing it's only a half moon, then!
Okay, Callum nervously making a puppet hand and then not knowing what to do with his hands and freaking out about itching and moving and pointy elbows is such a ND mood. The sudden stress of knowing that someone else is noticing your existence and maybe you're Not Existing Right, amirite? Ugh, poor Callum.
The Moon Temple! Omg it's so pretty in the description! Made to be beautiful and useful, full of knowledge but also allowing light and life inside (butterflies and vines). Lujanne, when can I move in, please? Also, it's all the more angsty because Lujanne is the only one who gets to see this beautiful place, but it has lots of chairs and shelves and tables, and it was meant to be used by lots of people. :(((
Claudia knows some of the runes on the walls. She isn't in a hurry to copy the rest of them down or anything, either. Her spellwriting is very precise, and she's a skilled mage. Her father would have made sure she was aware of the dangers of drawing sloppy runes, as much as he made her aware of the dangers of doing dark magic wrong. And the whole point of dark magic is that it's easier to learn than primal magic. Claudia supports her dad and their shared knowledge and life path. She's not gonna go nuts over an elf library she can't translate.
Side note: Between Claudia knowing some Moon runes and Viren building a secret passageway and a dungeon and lighting it with the same blue crystals that Lujanne and Ethari use for light--and Claudia exclaiming that she loves ruins--I wonder once more if there are really Moonshadow ruins somewhere in Katolis, which Viren has found and looted. Father-daughter relic hunting trip, maybe while Soren is away at camp? Omgsh that would be so wild!
Callum out here having a Viren moment with his "I feel powerless unless I've got magic that lets me help" vibes. God. I love their complicated mirroring. One of the hard differences between them is that Callum is very sure dark magic is bad because you have to kill stuff and take its power to cast spells, and he doesn't want to be a person who kills and takes like that. The line he walks to be nice to Claudia on their tour of the Cursed Caldera because he likes her, while telling her that he doesn't want to do her magic, like, ever, is so fine that it might as well be a shifting shadow on the ground. It's a very fitting conversation to be having during the half moon, with its tricks and little white lies.
Callum being out of the castle and his comfort zone, having to deal with the fact that the Claudia he loves is not quite the Claudia who's chasing him down across the kingdom, but of the two of them, he's the only one with a problem with this.
They say that if you really want to get to know someone, you should spend time with them outside their comfort zone - in heavy traffic, with a small baby, taking care of a new pet, trying a new skill, following unfamiliar directions, etc. While the castle is familiar territory for them both, Callum's never really found his comfort zone yet, while Claudia is pretty comfortable with her growing skill set. The creepy part starts to kick in when Callum begins to realize that Claudia's comfort zone encompasses a whole bunch of stuff that seems like it should make her uncomfortable... but it doesn't. But that'll be for a future chapter!
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safertokiss · 4 years
Text
Concentrated Interests
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A/N: Hola my friends! This fic was my entry for the Secret Fic Swap I participated in with a couple of close friends on here and it was written and dedicated to @nerdgirljen​. It was so much fun to write and thank you guys so much for all the support and love!
Pairing: SPENCER x READER
Category: Fluff and SMUT
Word Count: 3.3k
ENJOY:)
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MASTERLIST
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Spencer had never really understood the concept of soulmates or love at first sight.
In his mind, it defied pretty much every scientific law about human interaction out there and was simply a coping mechanism for those who were romantically unlucky. At least that was what he had thought until a certain tech analyst walked through the BAU’s doors and into his life. 
He was frozen. Totally and utterly enamored by the woman his eyes were currently attached to. He watched her stumble into the bullpen, a large box situated in her arms, seemingly impairing the entirety of her vision and coordination, evident by the way she kept bumping into things in her path. It wasn’t until she hit a particular desk corner and spilled the contents of the box, her belongings scattering across the floor, that Spencer broke out of his stupor and took action. 
“Woah there, let me help you with that!”, he exclaimed, immediately rushing to her side and starting to collect some of the fallen items to put back into the box.
“Oh, thank you so much. Gah, this is so embarrassing. I promise you I’m not always this uncoordinated and clumsy”, she explained with a nervous chuckle. After everything was picked up and they both had stood up from their crouched positions, she hurriedly straightened out her skirt before outstretching her hand. “Hi, I’m Y/n.” She immediately noticed the slight panic that crossed his features at her gesture and was momentarily confused.
“I-uh-I kind of don’t, um, do the whole hand shaking thing. Yeah, uh, the number of pathogens spread through a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to...oh god I’m sorry you didn’t ask for a full-out science lesson. It’s, um, really nice to meet you, I’m Reid. Doctor. Spencer”, he sputtered out nervously.
Chuckling softly, Y/n retracted her hand, opting to instead lightly nudge his shoulder. “Well Reid Doctor Spencer, it’s nice to meet you too”, a teasing smile adorning her face as she spoke. Spencer quickly felt a warm blush spread across his features at the absurdity of his introduction.
“S-sorry about that. What I meant to say is that my name is-”
“Pretty boy!”
Both of their heads swiveled towards the sound, searching for the source, before landing on a man across the room.
“Hotch needs us in the briefing room. Stop flirting with the new girl and get your ass in here!” They watched him walk away chuckling before turning back to each other.
“Pretty boy huh? Well I guess it’s fitting, I mean you do have really nice cheekbones and dimples. And your eyes are kind of beautiful. Not that I ummmm-not that I think you’re beautiful or anything, it’s just uhhh...um...I’m gonna stop talking now.” Spencer could feel the blush returning to his features, watching the same happen to her, from the frenzied rambling that had just poured from her lips, but he found it endearing on her and quite honestly, really adorable. 
“I-uh I gotta go, you know, um deal with that, but it was very nice meeting you”, he sputtered out, sending a small wave in her direction. She shyly giggled at his nervousness which was surely reflected on her end as well. “See ya around Reid Doctor Spencer.”
“Spencer. It’s um-it’s Spencer.”
“Spencer”, she repeated back softly, nodding him off with a gentle smile on her face.
~~~
Spencer Reid was in love. The longer she was around him the more he realized he was completely and utterly in love with her, all of her. She was perfect in his eyes, intelligent, funny, a bit nerdy and just so adorable. The problem was just that he had absolutely no idea how to tell her how he felt. He had never really been the type to express his feelings to someone, especially to a girl as beautiful as Y/n. 
The female species wasn’t exactly his strong suit and he was very aware of that fact, painfully aware. However, he stayed hopeful that someday soon he’d muster up the courage to express his affinity for her. Realizing that today was definitely not that day, Spencer tried to push his conflict to the back of his brain so he could try to get some work done. Not before noticing that Y/n was slightly late, though.
Less than a minute after he noticed her absence, she came bursting into the bullpen with the largest grin adorning her features, an obvious pep in her step. Spencer watched as she skipped over to the rest of the team who were gathered around Emily’s desk, close enough where he could pretty much hear the majority of the words exchanged and profile their reactions.
He heard JJ ask what was making her so chipper this morning, and he chuckled softly to himself as he heard her immediately start rambling about whatever had her so elated. 
“Oh my god guys, you’ll never believe it! So a couple of weeks ago a good friend of mine asked me to help her with her website, because well...tech geek and all, so I got to mess around with all the software and went crazy! I was able to fiddle with the source code a bit and authorize a super high CRO and SEO to get her website out there. Not to mention all the growth hacking I was able to curate! Cool right?”
Y/n stopped to take a breath and noticed that the entirety of the team was staring at her with vacant expressions on their faces. She looked on with widened eyes as she asked, “What?”
“CRO?”, JJ questioned. Morgan awkwardly chuckled out a similar questioning tone, “SEO?” Of course that left Emily to bring up the rear. “Did I hear growth hacking in there?”
Her face scrunched up in confusion at all the questions that had just been hurled her way so suddenly. “Huh?”
“Baby girl we have absolutely no idea what any of the things you just mentioned are or what they do”, Morgan explained with a sympathetic smile on his face, as the other members nodded in agreement.
Spencer watched as Y/n’s face quickly morphed into one of utter disappointment at the knowledge that her colleagues had no clue what she was going on about. She had seemed so excited when she entered the bullpen earlier so he assumed she was probably very much looking forward to getting to talk all about it with her friends.
“Oh...that’s ok. Sorry for bothering you guys, sometimes I just get a little too excited and tend to ramble. I’ll um-I’ll talk to you guys later.” Y/n flashed them a small smile before making her way over to her desk, situated across the room near Spencer. 
“Hey Spence”, she shyly waved as she passed, a deflated look on her face. Trying to lift her spirits at least a little, he returned her gesture with a huge grin and wave, happy to see her smile brighten a bit at his enthusiasm. 
Once she was seated and facing away from him, he immediately found himself feeling overwhelmingly upset over her predicament. He hated seeing her look so defeated and down, she didn’t deserve to ever feel like that. She was simply too angelic for those kinds of feelings to permeate her mind. 
Spencer wished more than anything that he knew what she was talking about so she could go to him. He’d let her ramble to him for hours on end if it meant he could listen to her melodic voice and see her beautiful face up close. 
All of sudden Spencer slapped his hand against his head and groaned, “Of course you dipshit”, before pulling up a couple tabs on his computer.
For the next few hours his work was forgotten as he studied and learned pretty much everything there was to know about technical analysis and the programming that Y/n seemed so ecstatic about, anxious to give her, at last, a companion to discuss her passion with. 
~~~
“See you later Reid!”
Spencer’s head snapped up as he heard the people around him saying their goodbyes and goodnights, realizing that he had been distracted by his screen the entire day and that it was already time to go home. He watched as his friends walked out together, all laughing about something that Morgan had said, before noticing movement in the corner of his eye. 
As he turned his head he noticed that the only person who was still there in the bullpen with him was Y/n, and she was staring at the posse that had just exited the room, a longing look plastered across her features that broke his heart. Taking a deep breath and deciding it was now or never, he rose up from his seated position and made his way over to her, hoping that he had learned enough to lighten her mood.
“Hey there!”, he exclaimed when he had found himself right behind her. As soon as the words started escaping his lips, she jumped in her seat, her hand flying to her heart.
“Jesus Christ Spence! You scared the complete shit out of me!”
Chuckling softly at her overreactive response, he moved to sit on her desk, facing her heavily breathing sitting figure. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you that you were still here and was wondering why you hadn’t left with everyone else?” She quickly looked down and blushed at his questioning, embarrassed of her answer.
“Oh I-um they just looked like they were having a lot of fun and I didn’t really want to interrupt so I thought I’d stay back for a little bit to-uh finish up some stuff.” Once she finished her unconvincing explanation, Spencer leaned back a bit and studied her. While this was something he found himself doing often, always getting distracted by her spectacular figure, he focused on her body language more than anything, noticing the dark circles underneath her eyes.
“Y/n, you look absolutely exhausted. Have you even been sleeping lately?”, he asked, genuine concern laced within his words.
“Y-yeah I haven’t really. I’ve kind of been pretty preoccupied in the last few days helping out a friend. It’s really fun, but it’s also very time consuming”, she stuttered out, a small smile gracing her lips.
“Oh right! I had heard you mention that earlier today! That must be awesome getting to basically build your own website!”
“I swear I feel like a kid in a candy store doing that kind of stuff. I just find it so relaxing and exciting at the same time!”
“I totally get it. I was really impressed with how well you were able to manipulate the site’s conversion rate optimization-did you know that a site’s CRO and SEO are considered as two of the most essential tools required to run a thriving website or online business. It’s actually astounding how much the results differ between competition depending on their efficiency.”
All Y/n could do, while Spencer rambled on and on about her most passionate subjects, was sit there in complete awe. The sound of the tech-geeky words that spilled from his beautiful lips was simply orgasmic. Never had she met someone who seemed as enthused as her when it came to all her technical endeavors, and she didn’t know exactly how to react. Her biggest crush on the entire planet was sitting in front of her spouting off facts like they were going out of style.
However, amidst all the wonder that circulated through her being, confusion washed over her.
“Wait hold up! What’s going on Spence?”
“Uhhh, what do you mean?”, he questioned shyly, a blush coating his face.
Narrowing her eyes at him she expanded her questioning. “I’ve known you for months now and I can guarantee I have never once heard you mention anything even remotely technical. In fact I’ve heard you explain time and time again how confused you are by the complexities of the simplest of technology. Spill, pretty boy”, she demanded, maintaining eye contact with him.
Figuring out that he had been caught, he shyly lowered his head as the blush on his face deepened, embarrassment coursing through his veins. “I-I noticed how excited you were this morning when you came parading into the office, the wide grin that adorned your face, the skip in your step. And I heard you ramble on and on about your friend’s website and you just seemed so damn happy and then they basically just shut you down right away because they didn’t understand and I-uh I hated seeing you like that and wanted you to have someone to talk to. So I spent all day today researching and learning so you could have someone to talk to, so you wouldn’t feel alone. I-I’m sorry if that’s creepy or if it’s too-”
Spencer was suddenly cut off mid-sentence as lips smashed against his own, effectively shutting him up. His eyes immediately widened at the bold action, before he melted into the kiss, desperately responding to her fervent advances with an equal passion. 
Y/n moaned into his mouth as his tongue probed at her wet lips, begging for entry. The feeling of their tongues entangling was euphoric and they both wanted, needed more. Spencer gently grabbed her and, turning so they were both facing it, lifted her onto the desk and stood between her legs. As the kiss deepened, their hands began to tear at each other’s clothing, Y/n hastily undoing his tie and dress shirt as he all but ripped off her blouse, groaning at the sight. 
“God Y/n you’re so fucking beautiful.” He watched her eyes roll back into her head at his words as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer. “Please Spence, I need you. I need you so much baby.” His eyes sparkled at her desperate plea, mirroring her need wholeheartedly.
Backing away slightly he unzipped her skirt and dragged it down her legs along with her panties, quickly reaching up to also unclasp her bra. “You’ve got me baby, you’ve got me.”
She surged forward and reconnected their lips, her hands weaving their way into his hair and tugging hard. The groan that escaped his throat lit her body on fire and further ignited her need for the man in front of her. His hands, that had been cupping her face, drifted downward stooping to briefly toy with her breasts before reaching his intended destination.
She moaned loud and deep as his hands cupped her sex, gently rubbing his fingers against her. He could feel her buck her hips slightly, searching for more. Receiving the message loud and clear, he inserted his pointer finger into her, reveling in the throaty groans that poured from her lips. As he added more digits into her and gently rubbed her clit, their lips moved rapidly against each other.
Y/n needed more, letting her hands lower to the obvious bulge that was straining against his slacks, palming him incessantly. Moaning hoarsely, he pulled away and quickly undid his pants, desperate for some sort of relief. As he stepped out of his slacks and boxers, he watched her eyes widen as they took in the sight in front of her.
“Woah.” He nervously chuckled at her response.
“Uh t-thanks?”
Giggling at his uncertainty she reached out and dragged him in once again, feeling his swollen tip bump against her, both of them moaning at the euphoric feeling. Realizing how fast things had moved, he pulled back slightly to search her eyes. “Are you sure baby?”
Falling even more in love with him, her smile widened as she nodded. “I am so very sure Spence. I-I love you.” She watched the grin that spread across his face at her confession.
“God Y/n, I love you so fucking much.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he lined himself up at her entrance and swiftly thrusted into her dripping heat. The overwhelming feeling caused both of them to let out matching groans of pleasure, Y/n latching onto Spencer and wrapping her arms around his shoulders to get a grip. Once he was sure she was ok, he started slowly thrusting in and out of her, soon setting a steady pace.
“Oh Spencer! You feel so perfect inside of me! So, so good!”, you exclaimed, cries of pleasure leaving your mouth.
“Baby you’re so warm and tight around me, I love you so much!” 
“I love you t-too!”
He gradually increased his already brutal thrusts, Y/n feeling herself fastly approaching the brink of ecstasy at the hands of the resident genius. Leaning back on her elbows, Spencer used the opportunity to pound even harder into her wanting body, his own release just around the corner. 
“Are you going to cum for me pretty girl?” She couldn’t control herself after hearing his dirty words, unaware that he was capable of such a thing, feeling her eyes roll back once again. She nodded fervently, about to crash over the edge. All rational thought was out the window once his fingers found her throbbing clit, rubbing incessantly, catapulting her into her climax, her pussy clenching around his rigid cock as she came.
“Oh my god Spencer!”
Her reactions were simply too much for him, groaning and moaning uncontrollably, finding his thrusts sputtering out of control as his cock twitched deep inside of her, quickly reaching his highly anticipated orgasm. She felt his seed fill her up completely as he panted out her name over and over again, both of them coming down from their highs, breathing deeply.
“Wow. Fucking wow,” she blissfully sung, a wide grin coating her lips.
“Y/n, baby, that was insane. You’re insane.”
He helped her off the desk so they could redress and finally leave the office, noticing how late it had gotten. They couldn’t help themselves from sending each other giddy smiles as they put on their clothes and eventually made their way down to their respective cars. 
Neither one of them seemed ready to leave each other just yet, some unspoken feeling crackling in the air between them. Taking the initiative, Y/n leaned forward, gently connecting their lips in a kiss that held the same passion from earlier, but was much more relaxed and romantic. Pulling back after a few moments, Y/n’s eyes sparkled up at Spencer’s as she spoke.
“Spence, what you did earlier...no one’s ever done something like that for me. You have no idea how much it means to me that you would go out of your way just to make me feel comfortable and happy.”
“Y/n, I promise you I wanted to wholeheartedly. Nothing matters more to me than your happiness. I just-I just love you so damn much. I think I have since you walked in and dropped all your shit on the floor”, he said chuckling. 
“Heyyyy, that was one time jerk”, she defended, a matching chuckle evident in her voice. “But I know what you mean. I think I’ve loved you since you introduced yourself as Reid Doctor Spencer, that memory will forever be embedded in my mind.” She couldn’t stop the light giggle that fell from her lips at the thought of their first meeting.
Meeting her eyes, suddenly a bit shy, he gently cupped her face, “What if, from now on, I introduced myself as your boyfriend?”, he asked cautiously, anxiously waiting to see how she reacted to his proposition. Instead of answering right away she jumped forward, throwing her arms around his neck and connecting their lips once more.
“I would love nothing more, my gorgeously intelligent boyfriend.”
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wienerbarnes · 3 years
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Much Ado About Nothing (1/6)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Word Count: 2,726
Warnings: enemies to lovers, talk of wedding and marriage stuff
A/N: enjoy the first part and let me know what u think!
MAIN MASTERLIST | MUCH ADO MASTERLIST
The ride back to New York feels a lot longer than the ride to Croatia, Bucky decides. HYDRA wasn’t kidding around when they said cut one head off and two take its place, whatever. No matter how hard Earth’s Mightiest Heroes try, there’s another facility that pops up at one point or another.
Bucky tries to think positively; they should be off HYDRA duty, if they keep up the consistent schedule of finding a new facility every three or so months, for a bit now.
“What’s the first thing you guys are gonna do when you get back? I’m gonna get some hot chocolate from the little cafeteria in the main building.” Sam hums from the seat directly behind Bucky.
Bucky’s in the passenger while Steve pilots and he gives his own answer at the same time as Steve,
“Shower.”
“Propose to Sharon.”
A small pause for the boys to ensure they heard that correctly.
“Wanna run that by us again, Cap?” Sam pipes up.
“When we land, I’m going to propose to Sharon.” Steve repeats nonchalantly.
“Since when?!” Bucky asks. He knows for a fact that Steve and Sharon adore each other, but Steve has never brought up marriage once in the time he’s dated Sharon, and clearly he hasn’t done so to Sam, either.
“Listen, I know we haven’t been dating long, but I know I love her and I know she loves me, so, what’s the point in waiting?” He explains.
“Is this about what happened earlier, Steve?” Bucky asks, knowing his best friend all too well.
A bomb was in the facility, of course, and Steve and Bucky tried to disarm it while Sam rallied the rest of prisoners out of the building.
Now, while Steve has obtained most of his training through his serum-fueled muscle memory and military experience over the last few decades, he is extremely lucky. Steve has successfully disarmed twenty-nine bombs throughout his Avengers career. Not a single failure. With no bomb training.
So when he cut one of the wires confidently and the timer started ticking faster, it made him nervous. And it made him even more nervous when he clipped a different wire and the time counter automatically set to zero. He froze in shock and was lucky Bucky was able to fling the two of them out a window and away from the direct blast.
“Okay, so, yeah, maybe I got a little scared. But, listen, it’s not a lie that we lead dangerous lives. Why should I hold back on the things I want if I know tomorrow isn’t promised?” Steve defends.
“Steve, you can’t marry a girl because you’re scared of dying!” Bucky exclaims.
“I’m not marrying her for that, Bucky, I love her!”
“I know you love her, but -”
“But?! -”
“Alright, alright, listen,” Sam interrupts their sibling bickering, “If this is what you want, I’m with you 100%, Cap.” Sam reassures.
Steve gives a thankful smile and looks back to Bucky, hoping for the same.
“You know I’m always on board with you, you punk.” Bucky slaps a hand on his shoulder.
“Thanks, guys.”
“Ah, big man’s gonna be engaged!” Sam throws his hands on Steve’s shoulders, jostling his body in the tiny pilot’s seat, and Bucky joins in on the teasing.
“I’m gonna tell everyone to meet in the hangar for when you ask her.” Sam says, pulling out his phone.
“You’re not gonna tell the Geek, are you?” Bucky groans.
“Of course, I’m gonna tell her. I don’t know why you don’t like her, man.”
Bucky rolls his eyes at the thought of the little lab rat. Sharon’s best friend. A young girl, born and raised in New York though thoroughly traveled through your work experience. Been to over fifty countries offering your expertise to combat cyberterrorism and have helped locate some of the hardest-to-find and worst people in the world.
You act like you’re all that just because you’re considered one of the youngest geniuses in the country and one of the greatest hackers in the world as well as the Avengers’ best tech expert of all time.
Whatever, big whoop, Bucky could care less.
As the jet lands, hugs and cheers are exchanged as the group of friends reacquaint themselves once again after a long mission. After greeting everyone, Bucky hangs on the outskirts of the group, waiting to see how Steve is going to pop his big question.
“C’mon, punk, don’t lose your courage.” Bucky talks to himself.
“I don’t know if you noticed, Bucky, but no one’s listening to you. You can stop talking.” Your voice pipes up next to him.
“Oh, hey, Little Miss Geeky, don’t you have some codes to hack, or something?” He bites at you.
“I told you not to call me that!”
“I told you not to call me that,” Bucky mocks you in a higher pitched voice.
“Geez, how does anyone stand you around here? I don’t get how all the female trainees are infatuated with you.”
“They definitely kiss my ass because I train them and I have the final say on whether or not they move on to second-class training, but even if I didn’t,” Bucky turns to face you now, “They’d still love me because every woman here loves me except for you, it seems.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m not interested in getting involved with anyone or anything right now, I don’t even know I’m capable of that, anymore.” Bucky finishes.
“Women everywhere are lucky, then. You’d make a horrible boyfriend. I’m glad I have no need for romance, either.”
“Hopefully you keep it that way, any guy that ends up with your catty ass will end up with his face scratched up.”
“Well, if his face looks anything like yours, a good scratching would only make it look better.”
“Alright, alright, enough, you two. Can’t even be civil around each other for five minutes.” Sam interrupts, slinging each of his arms around both you and Bucky’s shoulders, shoving himself in between the two of you.
“She started it.”
“No, he -”
“Stop! He’s about to do it.” Sam shushes you.
“He’s about to do what -”
“Guys, guys, I want everyone’s attention.” Steve’s voice calls out, and everyone quiets down immediately.
Steve turns to Sharon, “Sharon, you are the most beautiful, the strongest, the kindest, and most amazing woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He begins.
“I’ve known for a while now, and I know you have, too, that I love you with every fiber of my being. You make me a better Captain, and a better man every day I’m with you. I truly and deeply believe that you’re my soulmate and I won’t ever find another girl like you in my life. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. So, I don’t want to waste anymore time,” Steve lowers down onto one knee and a few gasps echo from the group.
Bucky sees you slap a hand over your mouth in shock and Sam sniffles beside him. A small smile appears on Bucky’s face, too.
“Sharon, will you make me the happiest man alive, and marry me?”
“Yes, yes, yes! Steve, yes I’ll marry you!” Sharon cries out, jumping into Steve’s arms as he stands again, and the group claps and cheers for them.
They share sweet kiss after sweet kiss, relishing in the new step in their relationship.
Sharon’s voice catches everyone in their celebration, though, “Let’s get married now!”
Collective what’s come from the group of friends that surround them, “Like you said, babe, let’s not waste anymore time!”
“Sharon, if you think you’re not getting the most gorgeous and lovely wedding you deserve, you’re mistaken.” You tell her.
“For once, I agree with Techie, Shar. I mean you don’t have a dress, Steve doesn’t have a tux; hell, the two of you don’t even have rings!” Bucky says.
“I can make it happen in a week.” Tony’s voice booms from the group. Everyone looks to him.
“I can get you guys rings, I can get Sharon a dress, and Steve a suit, I can set up the smaller ballroom for a pre-wedding party for everyone tonight and get the bigger ballroom ready for a wedding by next Friday.” Tony offers.
“Consider it a wedding gift.” He smiles.
Sharon and Steve look to each other before looking back at Tony, “Next Friday it is, then.”
The group goes back to congratulating the newly engaged couple as well as conversing about the future wedding.
...
“Hey, did you guys hear about the rumored wedding?”
Bruce Banner pipes up in the empty lab after returning from downstairs. Well, not empty, of course, but empty of you, the intern’s tech leader in their internship.
“What idiot would want to get married, nowadays?” John pipes up.
The only reason he’s here is because his step-brother, Sam “The Falcon” Wilson insisted on getting him this internship gig. Everyone was always saying how he wasn’t going to live up to his big brother’s legacy, and he hated the fact that that was only ingrained into his existence further by the fact that Sam got him this position.
“Your brother’s best buddy.” Clint Barton enters and answers. Always roaming around the building, he is.
“What, that pretty boy, Steve?”
“That’s the one.” The archer confirms and plops himself down in a spinning chair.
“Huh. And I guess he’s marrying that pretty girlfriend of his? When did this happen?”
“That he is. It happened just downstairs now that they’ve returned from that mission. There’s a party tonight to celebrate.” Banner informs him, hoping the sound of a party will liven the kid’s spirits a bit.
Banner can see the kid’s frustration in living in his brother’s shadow - or feeling like so - and hopes that allowing him the opportunity to make some good memories will make his time here feel a little less miserable. Despite the connection to his brother, John’s incredibly smart for a nineteen-year-old, a teenager, and deserves to have a little play among all his work.
“Hmmm. I think I’ll go. Who doesn't love a good party, right?” John says, satisfying both Avengers in the lab with him.
Meanwhile, John’s fantasizing, he’s going to get into trouble around here.
Sharon, Tony, and you sit around a small table in the cafeteria while Sam waits for his hot chocolate across the room.
“If only I could find a guy in between Steve and Bucky. Steve’s too vanilla and Bucky’s too… Bucky.” You say.
“Keep thinking like that and you won’t find anyone.” Tony tells you.
“Well, good. I pray everyday that God doesn’t send me a husband. Ugh, and especially not a guy like Steve or Bucky; I can’t stand those beards.”
“Maybe you’ll find a husband that shaves.” Sharon offers.
“I know I’m not hearing my darling Geeky and husband as topics in the same conversation.” Sam finally joins with his cup of hot chocolate.
“You’re right, you’re not. I’ll start looking for a husband when they make men out of something other than trash. Speaking of which, I know Steve is America’s Golden Boy, or whatever, but you make sure he treats you right.” You say.
“I second that.” Sam agrees.
“I third it.” Tony follows.
Sharon laughs, “Guys, guys, I appreciate it, but I don’t need you guys to have that talk with me, Steve is amazing, and you all know it.”
“Yeah, yeah, anyway, I’m going to go shower for the party tonight, I’ve been holed up in the lab all morning.” You stand and go to exit the cafeteria.
Bucky’s way ahead of you in that aspect, following through with what he said on the jet and retreating up to his room to shower as soon as the congratulations were given to the happy couple.
Showering is a special ritual Bucky follows after a rough mission. Of course, everyone showers after a mission, but Bucky makes his post-mission showers extra special.
He double shampoos both his hair and his beard, lathering them up with a smooth conditioner after, while he washes all the dirt and gunk from his body with a lavender and grapeseed oil body soap.
He applies a face mask while he cleans up any wounds he might’ve sustained on the mission, as well as polishing and scrubbing his metal arm clean. Once he’s finished, he painfully reminds himself that he can’t just sleep for the next sixteen hours. He has to get ready to go to a party.
He sighs to himself, “Let’s get this over with.”
Everyone in the ballroom is dressed to the nines for the last-minute engagement party. There’s music, dancing, drinks, and just about everyone that works in the tower is in that room.
The group of friends all find each other eventually, and of course all of the attention is on the future bride and groom. Talk of colors and themes and cakes all overwhelm the couple - the question of whether or not Sharon will wear a garter makes Steve blush.
Quite honestly, they’re on the verge of just eloping downtown and saying to hell with all the parties and festivities.
“Okay, okay, can we talk about something else? I don’t want all this wedding stuff to be the only thing I hear about for the next seven days.” Sharon finally interrupts.
“Okay, what do you want to talk about, Miss Bride-to-be?” You ask.
“Well, how about when you’re going to find yourself a husband?” Sharon teases her friend, knowing how much she despises talking about her own love life, or lack thereof.
“Oh no, absolutely not, not this again. I’m going to get a drink.” You wave her off, stepping away from the group and making your way back towards the open bar.
“I hope I didn’t arrive just as we were talking about relationship stuff.” Bucky says as he arrives and finally finds his friends.
“I’m afraid you did.” Natasha confirms beside Sharon.
“In that case, I’m gonna follow Geeky’s lead and get a drink; I’ll certainly need one for that conversation.” Bucky excuses himself, the shadow of his dark blue suit follows the flow of your navy gown worn tonight; you surely matched by complete accident.
“Imagine if they were married.” Sharon thinks aloud to Natasha.
“Who? Barnes and Geek-a-Chic? Please, they’d kill each other within a week of being married.” Natasha argues.
“I hope y'all aren’t talking about our Barnes and Techie, because there’s no way in hell they’d be caught dead with each other like that.” Sam butts in, Steve by his side.
“C’mon guys, think about it. It’s like opposites attract and all that. Plus, I think they are the only people that are a match for their own wits.” Sharon explains.
“I don’t know, babe. They’re constantly at each other’s necks; I don’t even think they’ve had a normal conversation with each other without insults or bickering.” Steve says.
“I suggest we do the impossible.” Tony interrupts, clearly having had a few too many drinks.
“While we wait for the wedding to come, we are going to set those two up together.” He hiccups.
“Tony, you’re crazy.”
“That’ll never work.”
“I’m with it!” Sam shouts, excited to play along and work with Tony on his shenanigans.
“Atta boy, Sammy! C’mon, Sharon? Nat? Steve? Where’s Clint, I know he’ll be on board with this.” Tony whips his head around in all directions looking for the archer.
“C’mon, guys, it’ll be fun! The worst that can happen is that we fail.” Sam tries to convince.
“I think the worst that can happen is that we succeed! Imagine Barnes and her together!” Natasha exclaims.
“I just want her to be happy. She deserves a good boyfriend and husband.” Sharon says sweetly, Sam words slowly convincing her.
“I agree.” Steve chimes in, wanting the best for his own best friend as well.
The five of them turn towards the bar to see Bucky and their favorite tech nerd pushing and shoving at each other’s shoulders, clearly fighting about something once again.
“Alright, I’m on board. Let’s do it.” Natasha finally agrees.
John watches the happy friend group from a distance. He sees his brother smiling and laughing with his friends; his famous, talented, skilled friends, his friends who are soon going to be married and live happily ever after.
Not if he can help it, anyway.
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nerdified · 3 years
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Procedural Notes: Patient #3 (FKA Hugo Jensen)
NOTE: [At the time of this audio recording, Mr. Hugo Jensen (NKA Norville Nerdlinger) has just begun the process, and is restrained. The identity of the speaker is unknown. This transcript is reproduced here in order to assist with identification of this man, who has since disappeared, absconding with an undisclosed amount of the process agonist. Efforts to locate him have, to date, been fruitless. If anyone knows anything about this man or his whereabouts, please report the information to Central Command.]
[BEGIN TRANSCRIPT]
Quiet, now. It’s no use struggling.
I’m not going to hurt you. Quite the opposite.
I see that look in your eyes, like you don’t think I could hurt you. You’re probably right. I’m not much of a fighter. But I know what you think of me, and other guys like me. I’ve been listening to you on the phone, you know. Hacked your telecommunications. What was it that you called me, on that call with the client yesterday?
Oh, yes, I remember. A walking pocket protector. I’ll admit, that was a new one for me. I’ve had “pencil-neck” and “four-eyes” and the good old-fashioned “nerd” lobbed at me before, but “walking pocket-protector”… Heck, it’s got a little poetry to it!
Shh. I know, it feels strange. It’s a little unsettling, at first, I’ll agree. But you’ll get used to it. It’ll go easier for you if you just relax and quit fighting it. In time, you’ll even begin to like it.
I’m sorry about the gag. Unfortunately, it’s just the beginning of the process, so I have to leave it in for…twenty-three more minutes, at least, if my calculations are correct.
Ha! Who am I kidding – my calculations are always correct.
I can see from your eyes that you hate my guts right now. That, too, will change.
You see, what’s about to happen to you isn’t out of the ordinary, or even very noteworthy. As far as I can tell, it happens to a lot of guys, especially those that zip through their twenties and then hit that speed bump called thirty, bank accounts empty and career opportunities shot. Those of us who didn’t win the genetic lottery couldn’t get by just on our looks and our charisma, like you did.
I remember how it felt when I was in high school, and guys like you were all A+ students and perfect jocks, too… gosh, it’s enough to make me swear.
But no. You couldn’t leave well enough alone. You couldn’t just be a jock, be good at sports, and leave the academics to the rest of us. We didn’t ask for much, you know. We just wanted to be left alone in our science labs, and in our tutorials, in our lives.
There's no escaping guys like you. You’re everywhere, and you’re spreading. For a time, we ignored it. Figured it was some kind of anomaly. But it wasn’t – it was a trend. And despite the fact that we didn’t see it coming, we are now prepared for its end.
Like I mentioned – it won’t surprise most people to see you change. Maybe a few of your close friends will worry about you. Express some concern. But by that point, you’ll already have accepted your new self. You’ll be able to say “This is just who I am,” and it’ll be their choice how to proceed. That’s a side benefit, by the way, of the process. You get to find out who your real friends are – and, spoiler alert: they’re not exactly big football fans.
You have to be prepared for some major shake-up in your life, though. The good thing about the process is that it won’t faze you in the slightest. Everything will be gee-whiz gosh-darn super-duper spiffy keen neat-o, if anyone asks, and for you, it will be.
Now, I know those terms are a little outdated. We’ve had to make a bit of an adjustment to the process in your case. The earlier version wasn’t quite strong enough for you, so we’ve had to over-compensate in a few directions. You won’t just be a little bit nerdy, you know, a couple of odd quirks, some new hobbies. For example, Derek – well, that’s his dead name, he goes by Derwood now – Derwood can sometimes get by in normal society. He even kept a few of his old friends. He’s just more into things like superhero movies, and he’s left behind all knowledge or passion for sports. I think I even saw him reading a comic book the other day, come to think of it.
But that’s not going to be you. Oh, sure, you might develop a taste for superhero movies, but if you do, it won’t just be a passing interest. You’ll become a rabid fan. I believe…obsessive…is the operative word, in fact. Yes, you see, that earlier version of the process would have worn off, and you’d have been back to your old self in no time, which would wreak havoc on your psyche, not to mention put our entire operation in jeopardy. We can’t have that.
It looks like some time has passed, but not quite enough for me to remove the gag yet. Do you feel your perfect white teeth shifting around in your gums, almost impatiently? Nod once for yes.
You don’t have to nod at all, not if you don’t want to. I don’t need you to confirm for me what I can already see happening in your eyes. Speaking of your eyes – how’s your vision? I can see you starting to squint every now and then. Trying to see past that blur? Don’t worry. I’ve already got your glasses, right here, for when it gets too bad for you to see. Talk about your Coke-bottle lenses - my calculations again predict that you’ll settle somewhere around…hm…negative six diopters, which is even worse than mine.
To put it simply: you won’t even be able to read the big E on the eye chart without your glasses on.
I know, you’ve never been to the optometrist in your life. You never needed to. And don’t think about getting contact lenses, either. I mean, go ahead and try, if you really want to embarrass yourself.
Oh, I can see it now: timid, nerdy little guy like you, shuffling into the doctor’s office – you say you want to get contact lenses, and they get you in the back for a fitting. They show you how to do it, you know, hold your eyelids apart and then just plop the lens on there. But you have to do it three times before they’ll let you leave with them, and you won’t even be able to get one in, because you’ll keep blinking it out. I wish I could be there to see it, honestly – you, all frustrated, trying to swear, but only able to say things like “Fudge!” and “Gosh darn it!”
It’ll be so beautiful. I’m getting teary just thinking about it.
I’m glad you’re starting to settle down a bit. Let me know when you need your glasses. Maybe while we wait, I’ll get started on your hair. That trendy fade has got to go, and so does that scruff on your face. At the start, you’ll have to shave a lot, but as the process continues, you’ll start producing more of a 5-alpha reductase enzyme. This will convert your testosterone into dihydrotestosterone, or DHT, which will actually miniaturize your follicles. Kind of like using a shrink ray on them! Oh, and there will be no taking of inhibitors, like finasteride or anything like that – our process contains a potent agonist, with an affinity of 0.25 to 0.5 nM for the human androgen receptor.
It’s all very scientific, I assure you. And with the miniaturization of your follicles, your sebaceous glands will begin to over-produce sebum, which results in – you guessed it! Acne. Pimples. Zits. I know you’ve never had to deal with that before, so I’m just preparing you for it now. Pizza-face, I think the popular nickname is. Get ready for a lot of that.
Let’s see…what else can I tell you.... Gosh, this is kind of like the orientation for a new job, isn’t it? Ah, yes. I know. Speaking of jobs...
Yeah, this is the tough part. It’s all very natural, I assure you. Just like with your friends, your co-workers will come to see you in a different way. I know you have quite a few cutthroat underlings who would eat one another alive to get your corner office, and the moment they sense you’re not as much of a threat as you used to be, they’ll swarm.
I give it two weeks, tops, until you’re gone. If you choose that road. Or you could make it much easier on yourself and resign. You won’t be financially ruined – not with all that new information surging through your brain – you’ll be an asset to the right company, the right department. Maybe IT will take you. Or accounting. Maybe you won’t work corporate. Maybe you’ll work retail.
God, that’s cruel even for me. I wouldn’t wish retail on anyone, even a jerk like you. But there’s no telling what could happen. For all I know, once the process has completed, you could end up one of those Geek Squad guys at Best Buy! Have you seen the uniform they have to wear? It’s company-mandated dress code. You’ve seen them, haven’t you? White, short-sleeve, button-down shirt. Black polyester clip-on necktie; black, pleated trousers; black lace-up shoes…and white socks. Yes, white socks, kept completely spotless and bright. All this is enforced, too, with routine inspections, to make sure you’re being compliant!
You see, there’s really an infinity of possibilities for you. If anything, this is a new chance for you – a fresh start. I know it feels scary, all this change. But change is the only constant. Everything is always in flux. Heck, every seven years, your entire body regenerates – every cell is new and different, so why shouldn’t your personality and identity change, too?
It’s logical, isn’t it? Nod once for yes.
Good! You’re starting to come around, aren’t you? Like I said, it won’t be so bad if you just accept it. If you don’t fight it. That sudden urge to position your tongue up behind your teeth when you say ess. Eth. Eth. How your voice keeps breaking, and in the most unfortunate ways, and at the most unfortunate times – all of this is being etched into your muscle memory as I speak to you.
There isn’t much longer now until I can remove your gag, and I can see that the physical alterations are beginning. Too bad all that hard work at the gym all these years is so easily eroded by our process, but then, those muscles were mostly for show, weren’t they? Well, no longer. It isn’t exactly sarcopenia, but it’s close. You’ll be at least one and a half, possibly two, standard deviations below the relevant population mean, and no amount of exercise will restore your former abilities.
Yes, the ropes are looser now, because you’re much smaller. Rapid onset muscle deterioration. You could struggle out of them. Maybe you could even escape. You could try. But there’s no way you’d make it very far without your glasses. Who would believe you, anyway? What would you even say?
Like I said, you might as well give in. It’s not so bad, once you get used to it. And you’ll have me. I’ll be with you for the whole beginning process, so you can acclimate to your newly nerdy life. You won’t be able to continue living in that luxe apartment you’ve got – no, you’ll be moving into a nice little basement apartment I’ve got fixed up for you, in the suburbs outside the city. The landlords have just got it refurbished, with some nice wood paneling, and there’s a spare twin bed that should be just your size! There’s also tons of room on the walls to put up all your posters. You won’t need much room for anything else, really. You definitely won’t be needing that enormous closet of tailored, fitted button-down shirts, or all those sneakers, definitely not those expensive Under Armour boxer-briefs. What a waste. No, the new you is way more frugal with his money, seeing as he’s paid so little of it. The new you doesn’t even think that much about clothes, or fashion.
This must be a lot to handle. Maybe I should have a little mercy on you.
Tell you what. I’ll let you choose your underwear. How’s that, pal? That make you feel any better? Nod once for yes.
See, I’m not that bad. That’s right. So, here. You can choose…Hanes, or Fruit of the Loom?
Oh, I see. You thought I meant what kind of underwear. Haha, no. You’ll be wearing tighty-whities from now on. Sorry, them’s the rules. Besides, you won’t need much support…down there, if you catch my drift!
Don’t look so horrified. You won’t even notice that it’s gone. Mostly. You’ll still have some length, just, you know, not a lot. You won’t be able to call it a “cock” or a “dick” ever again, either. Oh, look how cute – you’re blushing just hearing me say it! You might call it something else, like your ding-a-ling, or your wiener.
Okay, okay, I can tell you’re getting embarrassed, you’ve gone all red and blotchy in your cheeks. We don’t have to talk about the … “no-no place” anymore, little buddy.
All right. Here’s your glasses. I’ll just set them on your nose, for you…there. Wow, they sure do make your eyes look tiny!
I can tell you’re getting near to the end of the process, and I’m curious to see how big your two front teeth have gotten. From that bump in your upper lip…gosh, it looks like you might be giving Bugs Bunny a run for his money!
You’ve really been behaving better, so I’ll bring you a mirror, okay? So you can see for yourself. I must say, it’s already quite the improvement. I wasn’t expecting your hair to turn so red, or get so curly. Maybe if you can’t get a job at Best Buy, you could run away and join the circus as a clown!
I’m just horsing around with you, pal. Don’t pass out on me. You promise not to scream? I hate it when they scream. Nod once for yes.
You’re a little excited, aren’t you? It’s okay. You can tell me. I bet you get a little more excitable than you used to. Maybe you even get a little clumsy, with the loss of all that hand-eye coordination. Trip over your own two feet and go sprawling.
But who knows. There’s so much potential.
And you’re just the beginning, too. Let’s just say that my proposal for introducing you to the process wasn’t well-received by Central. What do they know? They have this power, and they don’t use it. Well, you snooze, you lose, by golly! If you have a gift, you use it, otherwise it goes to waste.
Anyway. Enough of the supervillain speech. You don’t need to know anything more. It’ll probably be wiped out in the massive crush of nerdy trivia about Star Trek and Star Wars that’s going to download into your brain soon, anyway.
So, this is it. Are you ready to see? Nod once for yes, and I’ll pull the cloth off this mirror here.
Alrighty, dweeb, you asked for it. Here goes.
Say salutations to the new you!
[END TRANSCRIPT]
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sinner-as-saint · 4 years
Note
Okay but hc on Cherry!Mob!Seb fucking reader up after catching her on another man in the club- feed me this content, I beg (love you btw)
Cherry p1
Hmm, interesting because someone else also requested a part 2 to Cherry.
Mkay, here we go...
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So
The mob boss would often go out of town for a couple of days
But then he always came back to you, for you rather
But this time, it had been 2 whole weeks and there was still no sign of him
You were a little worried at first, given the nature of his job.
But then the worry turned into annoyance and finally anger by the end of the second week.
He was clearly fine and well, probably having the time of his life with other women
So sulking over his departure was a waste of time.
You taught yourself to move on.
Sure, without his huge amounts of money, you earned much less every day
But it was still better than nothing
You had gained new clients, a couple of regulars too
One night, you were doing what you do best; performing for a very loaded man who showered you with money bills
The man even gave you his gold chain at some point; with his initials on it
Good thing you weren't wearing the collar given by Sebastian
And speaking of the devil...
Once you threw a quick glance around the dark room; you saw him immediately
Surrounded by his guards, hands in his pockets, dressed in a dark suit
Sebastian
His blue eyes glared at you
And just to fuel his very visible anger and discomfort, you moved even sinfully across the man's lap
Your scandalous outfit was perfect as well.
It showed just enough of your body to grab anyone's attention
And your actions clearly angered the mob boss even more
He knew you saw him, so all he did was point towards the private rooms and walked into that section of the club
He knew that sooner or later, you'd follow and join him eventually
And you did, after purposely keeping him waiting for quite a while
"Oh look who's here. What happened, you lost your way?" you sassed.
He kept quiet as he sipped on his liquor; sat on the dark red couch like it was his throne.
He studied your appearance
Your white lacy lingerie
Your excuse of a see-through cover up
Your slightly smudged dark lipstick
The golden chain around your neck, replacing the very expensive diamond collar he had given you a while ago; with his last name on it
But the thing he hated the most, was the bundle of cash tucked into the waistband of your thong
And you were disrespectful enough to show it off
He clenched his jaw as his eyes roamed your body
He had missed you
And he even hurried his way back, eager to find you and have you on his lap while he finally touched you and told you about the time he'd been gone
But no
He return to find that his girl defied him.
"Come here" he simply said, authority dripping from his words
You approached him, thinking he would just be a bitch about what he saw earlier but then he would finally give in
But no
Oh no
The mob boss was furious
He pulled you into his lap and gripped your jaw
"Get your hands off me!" you slapped his hand away
But he placed them back, gripping your face harder this time; it hurt just a little
"Why are you being like this? What the fuck were you doing just now, outside?"
You almost laughed
"My fucking job! Now go get fucked somewhere else!" you were mad too, but under your anger was hidden hurt
You could've sworn you heard him growl the moment you tried get off his lap
Ans within a second he had you pinned down on the couch
He held you by the throat gently
"You will not disrespect me like that, babygirl" he dared to move
You chuckled
"Or what huh? I have nothing to lose, Sebastian. I'm just a whore to you anyways." you sounded as though you were questioning his power
And he hated that, amongst others things
"Just a whore huh? Well, let me show you how I treat one," he'd whisper before going absolutely crazy
He'd tear off your lingerie in less than a few seconds
And you'd let him
You had missed him too, truth is you'd take whatever he'd give you
But he did go a little over the limit
I'm thinking Sebastian would just not care
He'd be degrading
To a point where it hurt
"I was stupid to even give you my attention! Should've left you out there, to be used like a whore"
He spoke while he separated your legs and settled in between them
He was quick to push himself in you, not even bothering about your whimpers
"I was stupid to put you on a fucking pedestal and call you mine. But I leave for a couple days and you get back to where you truly belong. Guess whores never learn, huh?"
He wanted to push your limits; physically and mentally.
He knew his words hurt, but he wanted you to feel how he felt when he walked in to find you on someone else's lap
You whimpered as he filled you up, he didn't give you time to adjust to his size; he just started rocking his hips against yours
You moaned at how good he felt, but then he quickened his pace
He was relentless
"You'll do anything for money, huh? Tell me, did he fuck you like this as well? Did you let him?"
He asked as he merciless pounded into you, pinning your wrists above your head
He grabbed the golden you wore and yanked it off your head, throwing it somewhere on the ground.
You moaned out loud, struggling to keep your eyes open as it started to water
You weren't sure if it was out of pleasure or because of his choice of words
At some point, he'd pull out, turn you around, pull your hips up before pushing into you again from the back
You'd whimper at the intensity of his thrust
"Aww, what is it? You can't take my cock? But isn't that what whores do? Fucking shut up and take it then!"
He'd keep going
You'd cry out his name as the pressure would built in between your legs
"You asked for this, well then fucking take it! What else is a whore good for, huh?"
You felt the tears fall, at the same time your body betrayed you and you came all over his cock.
He grunted as he felt your walls clench around him, milking him perfectly as he came right after you did
Sebastian pulled out and pulled your naked body onto his lap
You had missed his warmth so you instantly clinged to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pushing your face into his neck
You let the tears fall, and sniffled at they did
Sebastian's heart broke
He had been rougher than usual, and rude... He knew that
Sure, he had been angry and rude but he was the only safe place you knew. Or had.
He regretted everything he told you
He was ashamed aa he stroked your bare back gently
"Baby?"
You didn't respond, instead you sniffled again
"Baby, I'm so sorry" he spoke again, his voice a stark contrast to what it was just a minute ago
"You're mean" you finally spoke, voice strained and tired
You sobbed softly, still holding him tightly.
His heart broke a little more. Once he was done, you could've easily left, but you didn't
You stayed because you had no one else, and you needed to be held and taken care of.
"I'm sorry baby, i know i was rude and bad. But it's only because i thought you wouldn't be mine ever again. And I couldn't live with that" he explained.
You sniffled again.
"Still. You were so mean" you spoke, pulling away to look at him with tears in your eyes.
He wiped your tears away and pulled you into him
"I'll make it up to you, I promise. Will you please forgive me, baby"
"No" you simply said, avoiding his blue eyes.
He sighed, knowing you'd come around.
He put his suit jacket around you and carried you out of the club through the back door and into his car.
He sat you down gently and drove as fast as he could.
The silence was heavy, but not unpleasant
"I didn't wanna do it" you said, leaning against the window
He was confused
"Do what?" he asked
You wiped some more tears away and took a deep breath.
"I didn't want to perform for the man. But I'm running out of money, and I have to pay this month's rent or my landlord will kick me out."
You finally confessed
"You could've just told me that, Y/N" he said, sounding more caring than you wanted him to.
You almost chuckled through the pain
"You were gone for a week, Sebastian. Besides, that's my problem, not yours." you made it clear.
But he didn't like that.
He stopped the car abruptly.
"You are mine! All your troubles are mine, okay? You don't have to worry anyways, you're never going back to work in that club"
You knew that possessive tone, and it only entailed surprises.
"What do you mean?" you questioned further
"I'm buying it. You can run it." he spoke as if it were nothing at all.
You were shocked.
"Seb, what-"
He cut you off.
"You heard what i said, baby"
"But why?"
"Because i want you all to myself. I want you to be with me."
You scoffed.
"This is how you ask girls out?"
He looked at you and smiled.
"Not girls, just you." He caressed your tear stained cheek lazily.
After talking about it, after he constantly apologized for his previous behavior and a few playful banters later, he started the car again.
"Where are we going?" you asked
"Home." he replied.
"Your home?"
"Our home." he corrected you. And you almost cried again.
"Why? Haven't you had your fill?" you teased.
"I have. But every king needs his queen by his side. And I need you. I'll keep you safe and happy. Forever."
a/n: *sobs* y'all-
Everything tag list:
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2K notes · View notes
oh-boy-me · 4 years
Note
:0 could I have a beel,asmo,belphie,lucifer,mammon, satan (not including levi) and diavolo playing videogames? I thought it would be kinda funny since they're all really old- except for levi of course haha
Ohhh this should be fun!
Decided to do individual HCs for this one instead of a group thing so they wouldn’t be limited to multiplayer games.
Most of them, save for a certain prince, have been exposed to games a fair amount by proximity to Levi.
---
Lucifer:
Lucifer has a Mononoke Land account so that he’ll get the email notifications for events and can therefore keep track of Levi’s whereabouts.  He’s never played the game, though, nor downloaded the app, and he has no intention of doing so.
In general, he’s not much of a gamer.  The most gaming he gets done is minesweeper on Windows XP.  He doesn’t have the time, and it was never something he could get into.
That isn’t to say that he owns zero games, though.  His favorite genre is turn-based strategy, because he can afford to look away from them, and they make him think and plan.
He doesn’t like the hyper-realistic ones, though.  Things like Civilization and Here Be Dragons are up his alley, Hearts of Iron not so much.
He doesn’t care too much about the story, but a good soundtrack is mandatory.
Also he’s an old man so the controls also have to be intuitive or he just won’t be able to play.  Why is he jumping when he presses A he thought that was the attack button.
The type of player who needs to get every achievement.  A completionist.
When the group gets together for the rare multiplayer night, he has no idea what he’s doing and yet still manages to do well.  It’s kind of infuriating.
He won’t make alliances with anyone, no, it’s every man for himself.  He also actively targets Mammon no matter what game they’re playing.
The fact that he doesn’t really get it protects his pride when Levi inevitably wipes the floor with him.
Mammon:
Mammon actually does game a little bit in his spare time, mostly with Levi.  He’s got a couple consoles and is more open to different genres than Lucifer is.
He thrives in any game where the main goal is to rack up as many points or as much profit as possible.  He’s undefeated in tycoons and pinball.  (Tetris is an exception; he’s terrible at Tetris.  Stupid spacial recognition.)
The RNG elements boil down to his insane luck, but he’s actually very smart when it comes to investments and stuff, so it’s not like he’s only using his luck to get by.
If the games have multiplayer, even better!  Nothing like kicking Levi, MC and Belphie’s asses in a game of Fortune Street!
He also tends to like the action-focused games that Levi plays.  Not so much into turn-based RPGs, but he enjoys stuff where the enemies spawn, like in Zelda or Rune Factory.  And he’s great at button mashing in fighting games, although Levi, who actually knows how to play them, always beats him.
Mammon uses items as soon as he gets them, and is too busy rushing a boss to care about learning its patterns and strategizing.
Skips cutscenes even on his first run.  Levi and Satan hate him for it.
Like mentioned before, he gets an unfair disadvantage in game nights because everyone targets him.  Especially in those games with RNG, because otherwise he WILL win.
He’s banned from PTW games because he will indeed PTW.
Satan:
Satan is another one who doesn’t play too many games, and that might be for the best because he’s a nightmare to play with.
The sorest loser, and a pretty nasty winner too.  He insists on the hardest difficulty and then rage quits at the slightest inconvenience.
He will play when prompted, though; he’s not above hanging out with his brothers.  His favorite sorts of games are ones with a good story and/or good puzzles.  His planning is more on the tactics side, as opposed to Lucifer’s strategy, so he would love Fire Emblem.
He WILL drop a game if the story isn’t holding his attention, and he’s done so in the past.
Overly cautious and hoards resources.  He takes the safe route every time.
Also another completionist.
Beel would often ask Satan to help him find out which art pieces were originals and safe to buy in Animal Crossing, and Satan got a little bit interested and ended up making a resident on Beel’s cartridge so the donations could be in his name.  He went on a mini-campaign to drive out the residents he didn’t like, but one of them turned out to be Beel's favorite and he felt terrible about it for weeks.
During family game nights, everyone is always torn between appeasing Satan and telling him to deal with it when he loses.
He also gets angry if he catches on to the fact that they’re letting him win, though.
Probably a genwunner.
Asmodeus:
Asmo enjoys video games.  They don’t fit into his aesthetic so he’s never really tried to understand them, but he doesn’t dislike them by any means.
Gaming is becoming more mainstream though, right?  That’s a whole new audience that could appreciate him.  Maybe, just maybe, he can let himself be a bit of a geek.
Unsurprisingly, he’s got a penchant for games with customization options.  Surprisingly, he also really enjoys FPS games.  If he and Levi ever played at the same time, it would be chaos in the House of Lamentation.
As opposed to his in-your-face attitude, he likes to play sniper units.
He said he wants to tap into the gaming community, but he’s not very good at most of the games he plays so he’s too embarrassed to actually do so.  He does, however, play the Sims on livestream.  He does his best to make the steamiest and most dramatic scenarios happen, and he’ll hold strawpolls to let his viewers make some choices.
Asmo also plays Animal Crossing like a few other brothers, but his island is so well groomed and with just the right residents, it feels like you’re touring an uncanny dystopia and Asmo is the dictator.
When the group gets together, he usually ends up doing the worst.  He’s more interested in executing perfect combos than actually dealing damage, so he’s not aggressive enough to get anything done against players like Levi and Satan.
He’s also not very good at teamwork; he starts yelling at his partner very quickly.
Beelzebub:
Beel doesn’t have a lot of “gamer” in him, but some of his brothers seem to like it so he decided to give it a go.  Turns out his hands are too big, but he makes do.  Kind of.
You’d expect a sports game to be the best for him, since he’s so athletic.  However, it’s BECAUSE he’s so athletic that this sort of game isn’t in his library.  He gets too antsy and bored tapping buttons instead of actually playing the sport.
Beel’s also not an aggressive player in any sense of the word.  He feels guilty even hurting the most basic of slimes.
No, no games are better for Beel than the stress-free, casual life simulators.  Animal Crossing is no surprise his favorite one right now.  Satan handles the museum for him while Beel gets to do whatever he feels like in a world where the biggest threat is a wasp.
He’ll also play other low stakes games where living your life is the main goal, like Harvest Moon and Stardew Valley.  His big heart can never choose who to marry in those games.
Horror is also ok for him, because while aggression is hard for him, self-defense is not.
He got the Cooking Mama app on his D.D.D. and bit the device in half, so he’s not allowed to touch that franchise anymore.
When the gang meets up, his non-aggressive side sticks around.  In fighting games, he’s more likely to dodge and steer clear of the others, and in other versus games he’s so open to compromise you’d think you were on the same team.
Satan did get him his favorite resident back.
Belphegor:
Belphie probably games the second most after Levi; it’s something that keeps him entertained but doesn’t require him to move very much at all.
I actually have no idea how to describe his preferred genres, but League of Legends and Dark Souls is basically all you need to know.
League lets him socialize a bit, and it’s the game that he and Levi play together most often.  As for Dark Souls, he loves the sort of game where learning your opponent’s every move and outsmarting/outmaneuvering them is the only path to victory.
I guess that would be described as “really hard action-adventure” games?  He’d also like Sekiro.
He also has his own copy of Animal Crossing to visit and play with Beel, but his island is so underdeveloped you’d think he started that same week.
Belphie is the true wild card of family game nights; sometimes he sleeps through the whole thing, while other times he can take down even Levi.
He has everyone’s habits down to a T--Mammon charges in, Asmo does too much setup, Levi’s overconfident--and he knows how to counter each and every one of them.
For someone who’s so much of a cunning player, though, he also misclicks a lot.
He’s the most likely out of his brothers to make alliances.  He’s also the most likely to break alliances.
If he doesn’t think he can win, he’ll choose a player and start sabotaging the game in their favor.
Diavolo:
Lord Diavolo had read about like, Mario?  The little blue hedgehog guy?  But he’d never owned a gaming console before.  He probably thought Neopets was peak gaming.
Levi swore to fix this grievous error, and this was also a mistake, because now Diavolo keeps trying to get Lucifer to play all these hack and slash games with him.
He has legitimately told Lucifer that “if you don’t play Devil May Cry with me THIS devil may cry!”
The games need to always have something happening in them or he’ll get bored, kind of like Satan’s need for a good story, except with action.
It’s also worth mentioning that “play a game with Diavolo” actually means “sit in the same room as Diavolo while he plays.”
And oh boy… is he terrible at these games.
He just button mashes until either he dies or all the enemies die.
Never uses any of the items he gets because he’s sure he’ll need them more later on.  When, Diavolo?  During the staff roll?
Will bomb a door before trying the knob.
Since he’s usually only around Lucifer, who doesn’t want to get sucked into this, and Barbatos, who honestly couldn’t care less about this, he’s been left alone and free to develop these terrible gaming habits.
It’s rare that he comes to family gaming night.  Legend has it that Lucifer’s piercing glare is somehow connected to the fact that his brothers always let Diavolo win.
Masterlist
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obeymeluv · 4 years
Note
Ohhh how about the boys reacting to a lower demon hitting on reader? Like aggressively hitting on them that it’s already quite uncomfortable? Or it could be the shy, almost sweet type?
Hey there! Holy wow, how long has this been here? I usually check Tumblr from my phone and I guess message notifications don’t come through? So sorry T_T
Either way, Nonnie, this isn’t good :o
Divider from Glitter Geeks
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“It cannot be helped, for I am born of sin and they inspire it in me.”
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Lucifer
This is the BIGGEST, ULTIMATE NO
Like, all of Mammon’s past transgressions don’t POSSIBLY add up to this insult
At first Lucifer pays no mind because you seem to be integrating into the Devildom and furthering Diavolo’s grand plan. Good!
Then it starts to gnaw at him and he really pays attention. Call it the keen eye of an ex-angel, to watch over humans
Half of him is earnestly trying to plan things to say on the way over, not hearing how his own footsteps echo thunderously with impending doom, but half of him can’t even concentrate due to the overwhelming sense of wrong.
You seem very uncomfortable, this lesser demon is more incompetent than he thought possible, and there’s something hot and nauseating burning in him. It almost hurts to clear his throat, honestly
It feels like the part he’d forgotten about...almost all that Satan was. He honestly thought he didn’t have any wrath left in him, for pride seemed far nastier a thing to be stuck with
He lets those big black wings, once the pride of the Celestial Realm, unfurl in a great and terrifying display. He used to shine in the Celestial Realm when he revealed his true form, but in the Devildom it translates as pure heat
He fans his wings to cool the air around you but the lesser demon now knows his looming shadow and his terrifying presence
If the demon is bold enough to stick around, Lucifer introduces you as the resident human transfer, discourages them from making you late, and suggests any further interaction happen in the presence of one of your seven guardians (“Of which I am one.”)
Although he mentioned seven guardians, it’s clear that he’s the key guardian. The one who will oversee all, and that’s enough to send the demon skittering away.
It takes a few minutes for the air to cool and his wings to fold back in and Lucifer uses that time to glare a burning hole into the lesser creature.
Finally he looks at you and asks you how you’re feeling. Nothing bad happened? Do you need to file paperwork?
Would probably consort with Diavolo to cast a minor enchantment so you could protect yourself if one of the brothers weren’t around
Mammon
You think another demon’s going to get close enough to talk to you? While in the presence of your NUMBER ONE MAN?! Ha!
Mammon may complain about having to go to classes and tries to convince you to ditch more often than not, but he really does look out for you
And boy is Greed’s Avatar so he’s not going to skimp on the company
That also means he’s not going to share your company when he doesn’t feel like it
Mammon may not be openly flirtatious like Asmo, but he knows all about swindling people for their heart (for it is just as valuable as money) and he knows when this demon comes slithering up that he’s BAD NEWS
He’s clever with money-making schemes, has successfully stolen from almost all of his brothers to pawn things, and has brokered deals with witches in such a way that he’s barely affected. Boy’s going to know how to dodge a creep
And for a while, it works. He teaches you back passages and all sorts of little things
But, inevitably, you have to face it alone. He’s not going to always be there.
And he kicks himself when he’s not. Seems he’s only minutes late but ANYBODY who knows you--like your number one man!--knows you’re uncomfortable and THE GREAT MAMMON has to do something!
What does he do? The biggest, loudest, flashiest thing possible. THE BIGGEST SIGN YOU COULD GIVE ANYBODY
If the demon isn’t discouraged from Mammon yell-talking at you halfway down the corridor, Mammon gets to see the delicious way he deflates after he throws an arm around your neck and starts apologizing to ‘his human’ about being late
If he’s in a bad mood that day, he’ll probably toss the demon a single Grimm and tell him to get lost or go buy himself something nice.
The height difference is probably pretty significant so it’s easier for him to just scoop you under his arm and carry you down the hall. Or let his tail wrap around you and walk you down the hall.
Leviathan
I’d be interested to see Levi in this position, honestly. Part of me thinks he’d be too shy to do anything, instead sulking in his room, but part of me thinks once he sees you as a friend (or something more) he’s going to go to bat for you
If it’s that second one, he’d be slyly demeaning. Being the third-born, he’s probably got an intelligent sarcastic streak like Lucifer and a subtle underhandedness like Mammon.
As the Avatar of Envy, his main game is to make the lesser demon feel insignificant by pointing out how little they know you. They’re not your real friend like him so obviously they’re nothing.
He’s much better, anyways. They’re an NPC, he’s Player 1.
I’m also very, very curious about his position in the Devildom Navy. Is that some kind of a switch-flip moment where he can command a room no questions asked, or is it some kind of wickedly good strategy innateness?
Being a background person (and having Asmo as a brother), he probably overhears a lot of gossip. He’d probably drop some real gossip, something embarrassing. Probably say you were needed by Lucifer, as that’s more to-the-point and believable
The aim of the game is to send the demon away, to create distance. Mission accomplished.
Satan
He won’t intervene until he gets the idea that you’re uncomfortable. It’s a whole process with this one.
On the one hand, he wants you to be able to handle yourself. If you are not enough to send the creature away, then he’ll intervene. Partly because he’s technically responsible for you, partly because he cannot stand idly by and entertain this idiocy.
Satan has many tricks but his favorite one is to freeze the demon out by ignoring him.
Totally dominates/inserts himself into the conversation. Makes the demon feel like he isn’t there.
If that doesn’t work and your scrambling to corroborate him or just back out of the conversation, Satan speaks for you. (”We’re studying later.”, etc.). If the demon tries for another day, Satan just coolly adds ‘and tomorrow’ or ‘for the rest of the week’ until the point is made.
The longer this issue continues--despite his help--the more the Avatar of Wrath begins to reveal himself. That aura alone is usually enough to send anything running.
Kinda feels like he made an ass of himself no matter what, and apologizes after you two are alone. Is very cute and embarrassed.
Gives you a biting book. It’s an enchanted tome you can train not to bite certain people. You two are the only ones that can hold it. He looks forward to seeing how many people it bites before the week is over (a little too happy). 
Asmodeus
Oh the many ways this could be handled! Asmo has so many ideas!
At first his little heart skips a beat because how cute is this?! A cliche romance unfolding in the halls of RAD between a human and a demon? Then his little ‘radar’ begins to ping and he realizes not all is well or cute
He was kind of glad, honestly. You could do MUCH better (like him!)
It could be as easy as Asmo sliding in and charming the lesser demon to leave you alone, walking away in a stupor, or more complicated and sinister
Asmo’s never done anything truly, intentionally sinister but rumor mills can be pretty devastating. The lesser demon may find himself at the center of some unsavory rumors that cause him to slink around the general populous
The narcissistic fifth-born probably has something of a following. He may appoint some of his followers as body guards or just extra eyes to keep you safe
Or he could do a total 180 and make this lesser demon seem totally dreamy to others so they get chased and leave you alone. Yes, he quite likes that one!
Then there’s the traditional route, the most obvious (which Asmo prefers because, honestly, you two would be the CUTEST couple) where he’s your boyfriend and you guys didn’t want to tell anyone but OOPS! SECRET’S OUT! Great, now go away! Wait, take a picture for his Devilgram first! Okay, now go. 
Beelzebub
Probably takes Beel a bit to notice your discomfort. If he’s not distracted with food, it’s because he didn’t want to act in bad faith. What if you actually liked talking to that demon? What if you were just awkward like Levi? It’s a delicate matter.
Beel is no fool, though. He’s very friendly. If he introduces himself and the lesser demon doesn’t quit his behavior, Beel will then turn serious.
Tries to emphasize to the demon that you’ve said no
May show muscle or offer up a challenge. Sometimes people are hard-headed like that and need action.
“You want to date them? Beat me in an arm-wrestling competition.” (they won’t)
Beelzebub can be down-right crafty. “You want to date them? Beat me in an eating competition.” (he’s the undisputed champion).
I think he’d use his size in a good way. If this demon keeps cornering you/pestering you, Beel’s going to make a habit of walking between you or just picking you up until the demon gets the hint that if Beel’s around, he’s not talking to you
Belphegor
The smallest part of him is too tired to deal with this but he’s powered by the sheer amount of HELL NO and decides he has to fix it.
Fix it once and it stops
Belphie, like Satan and Lucifer, has  a low tolerance for stupid things. This demon is one of them.
Very cut-throat and point blank. “They’re not interested. Go away.”
Lord Diavolo and Lucifer expressly mentioned they couldn’t use their powers on YOU, not other demons. Belphie can probably make people really sleepy. He’d make this demon so deliriously tired that he couldn’t flirt with you
Definitely the type to make the demon pass out in the hall and leave him there. Head injury? No clue, he had to go to class. It’s okay, the other RAD students probably won’t step on them.
So mad about the demon. “Honestly!” as he fluffs his pillow angrily after you two have settled in your next class. It’s the angriest nap he’s ever taken.
I don’t think he takes his pillow to school but you can bet he’d but a brick or something in it and whack them. Maybe try to suffocate them. Probably wouldn’t risk his precious pillow like that.
I bet he’d fake nap if the demon tries to flirt with you in class. LOUD, OBNOXIOUS, GRATING fake snoring.  
Hope you liked it :)
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adenei · 3 years
Text
Bad Blood
Written for The House Cup Competition - Standard. For this challenge, we were given a list of pairings to choose from and write a story. This is very much out of the wheelhouse of anything I write, so I wasn't going to post it here, but I figure I haven't posted anything lately, and y'all have been leaving my prompt/ask box empty so...
This is a [negative pairing] story about Remus Lupin and Marlene McKinnon. It was so hard to write Remus negatively because I love him. There's not much I know about Marlene, so it was kind of fun to play around with her character! There's a wee bit of Jily thrown into the mix, so I hope y'all give this a chance! It's quite angsty, but I enjoyed writing the Marauders era!
Bad Blood
“Hey, Remus,” Marlene McKinnon called from the other end of the corridor.
Remus cringed as he pretended not to hear her. His feet kept moving swiftly as he made his way to the library where he was supposed to tutor some younger Gryffindors before dinner. Unfortunately, Marlene didn’t give up and leave him alone. 
“Didn’t you hear me calling?” Marlene asked as she sidled up next to him.
“Oh, hi Marlene. I didn’t, no,” he said curtly.
“Are you headed to the library?” she asked. Merlin, couldn’t she take a hint?
“Yes, I’m due to tutor a group of third years, and I’m running late. So if you don’t—”
“I’m heading there, too!” Marlene said quickly, cutting him off. “We can walk together,” she said with a sweet smile.
“Er…” 
Remus always had a hard time saying no. He was the voice of reason with his inner circle of friends, always trying to see the good in people. With Marlene, though, she was getting to be a bit much.
Dismissing his hesitation, Marlene pushed on with her chatty nature. “So, are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?”
“Haven’t decided,” Remus responded shortly.
It wasn’t exactly a lie, since he technically hadn’t. Sirius had his own date with a fellow seventh year Ravenclaw he’d been seeing recently, and Peter was serving detention because he broke a set of glass vials in Potions today. Slughorn was furious. James was trying to convince Remus to join him and Lily, but he had his reservations and didn’t want to be a third wheel.
“Oh, well, I’m free if you want to go together?” Marlene asked while she fluttered her eyelashes up at him.
Remus tried not to outwardly cringe, though he felt his insides shrivel in annoyance. This had to stop. This was the fifth time she’d approached him about going to Hogsmeade together. Apparently, politeness wasn’t going to work anymore. They reached the doors of the library and Remus stopped and turned to Marlene. 
“I appreciate your tenacity, but in tandem with the other four times you’ve asked me this year, it’s a no. I’m not interested.”  
Remus turned quickly so he didn’t have to see the hurt look on her face. He wasn’t Sirius. He couldn’t just turn someone down and not feel anything. So he chose the cowardly way out, as he quickly opened the door to the library.  Marlene was left standing speechless outside the doors.
****
“The nerve of him!” Marlene complained to Lily.
“What did Sirius do this time?” Lily asked with an eye roll.
Marlene laughed derisively, “Not Sirius, Remus! You’re awful at paying attention to things ever since you let James into your life.”
“Remus would never hurt a fly—” Lily started to say.
“Ha! That’s what he wants you to think! But you weren’t there. Nooo! You didn’t witness the way he treated me outside the library!”
“Mar, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Lily defended, in an attempt to keep the peace between her friends and James’.
“It most certainly is not nothing! What have I done? I didn’t even specify that I wanted it to be a date! What is wrong with him that he won’t let anyone else in besides James, Sirius and Peter? Is he hiding some dark secret or something?”
Lily shoved her nose closer to the parchment as she wrote her essay, hoping that Marlene wouldn’t catch the slight blush on her face. She’d only just learned about Remus’ condition, and had sworn to James she wouldn’t tell a soul.
“Maybe he’s just introverted,” Lily offered, hoping to take Marlene off the scent.
“Well, he doesn’t have to be a jerk about it!” Marlene complained. “Maybe I just wanted to go as friends! To get to know him a bit better! Not everything has to be a date just because we’re seventeen!” 
Lily shot her a look. “But you want to be more than friends, and you and I both know it, so stop trying to talk your way out of that.”
Marlene stuck out her tongue in a rather unbecoming manner. “Correction: wanted to be more than friends. Not anymore! Now, what am I going to do? Go to Hogsmeade alone? Stay in the castle and be bored out of my mind?” Her pout turned into an evil grin when she developed another thought. 
“Ohh, what if I go wherever Remus goes. If he stays here, I’ll just happen to stay back in the Common Room or the library to study across from him. Give him a constant reminder of what he could have had if he just gave me a chance!”
Lily set her quill down. “Marlene, you’re crossing the line to creepy. Just let it go. Why don’t you join James and me at The Three Broomsticks for a drink? That way you can get out of the castle and not be alone all day. Then, you can go do whatever shopping you need to accomplish and head back up to the castle.”
Marlene folded her arms and thought about what Lily had offered. The sour look began to dissolve on her face. “I guess I could do that. Only if James promises not to be a prat, and that it won’t feel like I’m the third wheel.”
“You know I can’t promise a prat-free James, but I’ll do my best to make it not feel like you’re tagging along on a date. How’s that?” Lily reasoned.
Marlene’s eyes turned upward as she thought about the proposed plan. “Okay, I suppose that will work.”
*****
“Wait, wait, wait. Let me get this straight. Marlene McKinnon asked you on a date, and you turned her down?” James asked Remus.
“You weren’t there! You didn’t hear how pushy she was being, James! This is the fifth time she’s pressed the issue! I had no choice, but to turn her down. I’m not interested!”
“She’s not really that bad, Rem,” James countered.
“I never used to think so either, but I can’t stand it when people don’t take no for an answer! If that was me pushing her and she said no, I’d get detention for harassing her!”
“I think that’s a little extreme—”
“It is not! Look, I am perfectly fine keeping to myself. I don’t need to date anyone. I’m too dangerous. It’s bad enough that you three and Lily know.”
“You wouldn’t have to—” James tried to cut in, but Remus held up a hand to interrupt him.
“Can you imagine if she found out? She’s one of the head gossipers in this school. That’d be the end of me! I’ve gotten this far, and I’m not about to ruin it by laying false trust in her. I don’t know how Lily can stand her.”
James snorted. “Is this one of those things you’re going to ask me not to repeat?”
“What do you think? When you and Lily are too busy making eyes at each other in Transfiguration, I have to listen to her drone on and on about who broke up with who, or what the latest trend is in Witch Weekly. Doesn’t she ever get tired of hearing herself talk?”
James wasn’t used to hearing Remus go off like this. He always tried to be a pillar of reservation and neutrality. “Tell me how you really feel, Moon.”
“That is how I really feel!”
“Alright, alright. So Marlene’s just a pretty face, but pushy as hell. Anything else you want to vent about?”
“Have I mentioned how overbearing she is?”
“Once or twice.”
“Then I think I’m good. I’m sorry, I don’t normally complain about people,” Remus apologized.
“No need to apologize, Moony! I’m loving this side of you!” James said.
“Well, don’t get used to it. Looks like I’ll be spending another Hogsmeade weekend in the castle,” Remus sighed.
“Why don’t you join Evans and I? We’re going to The Three Broomsticks this time. Have a drink with us, get out for a bit. The full moon’s not for another week; why don’t you try to enjoy yourself for once. Let loose a bit?”
“I don’t know, Prongs,” Remus said, shaking his head.
“It’s one drink. That’s all I’m asking. Please? You and Lily can talk potions, or whatever it is you two geek out over,” James pressed, knowing Remus would fold when his favorite subject was mentioned.
“Fine, but only one drink,” Remus conceded.
****
James and Remus were sitting at a table in the Three Broomsticks when Lily and Marlene walked in. “Is this some kind of sick joke?” Marlene asked, immediately rounding on Lily.
“What are you talking about?” Lily asked. 
“Very funny, Lily. What is he doing here?” 
Lily looked in the direction that Marlene was pointing, and was shocked to see Remus sitting with James. “I—I have no idea. Why don’t we go and see? I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation—” Before Lily could finish, Marlene was already storming over to the table.
“So, you couldn’t accept my invitation to go to Hogsmeade, but you can come here with James and taunt me over it?” Marlene seethed.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Remus responded coldly to her as he glared at James.
“Well, Lily invited me to spend the afternoon with her and James, so you can go get to your studying, or whatever excuse you had to not accompany me today,” Marlene said with a snarl.
“And James invited me for one drink, so I’m committed to staying for that as well,” Remus said, not backing down.
“I’m going to go get a drink,” Lily said quickly, noticing that there were only three on the table. 
“I’ll come with you!” James said as he shot out of his seat. “I’ll be right back,” he mouthed to Remus.
Marlene and Remus both sat at the table and stared indignantly at each other. It was almost as if they were in a contest of who could glare silently at the other longest. It was Marlene who finally broke the silence.
“What did I ever do to you anyway?” she asked. “I’ve been nothing but nice to you over the last seven years!’
Remus was taking a sip of his Butterbeer and almost snorted it out of his nose. “You’ve been nice to my face, but who knows what you may have said behind my back. I’ve heard the things you say about Sirius and Peter, and even James before he started dating Lily. Why would I want to place myself in the presence of someone as toxic as you?”
He’d probably regret his words later on, but he always tended to get moodier a week before the full moon hit. Controlling his anger was difficult, and of course James had sought refuge at the bar, leaving him completely vulnerable.
“I’ve never had a single mean thing to say about you until this week! You deserve it now after the way you treated me. Apparently, your niceties and caring air is just a facade for your standoffish self-righteousness. I should have known you were too good to be true!”
Lily and James returned as Marlene finished her latest insult. They eyed the two nervously as they sat back down. Remus was seeing red, and it didn’t take James long to catch the wolfish look in his eyes. 
He put a hand on Remus’ shoulder and said under his breath, “Easy there Moony.”
This brought Remus down slightly from the rage he was feeling. “Well, I’m sorry you took my disinterest for rudeness. Perhaps you should grow a thicker skin,” he said through gritted teeth.
Marlene was ready to respond when Lily intervened. “So, how about Sluggy’s Potions essay? I’m personally having a difficult time looking up the ingredients for Mopses Potion without utilizing the Restricted Section.”
Lily’s diversion was enough to prevent more arguing amongst Marlene and Remus, but did not help the next hour pass by any faster. The tension between the two never dissipated, and the awkwardness remained, as neither made an effort to keep the conversation flowing. Eventually, both decided they had enough and took their leave.
“Thanks for the lovely afternoon, Lily,” Marlene said, sarcasm dripping from her words as she glared at Remus.
“Yes, James. It was positively splendid. Now I know what I’ve been missing out on when I stay at the castle. I’ll see you later,” Remus said with a look that told James he’d be receiving an earful later.
James shot a grimace at Lily as they watched the two head for separate exits. “Well, that was a disaster.”
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Text
Spidey Senses (pt. 6)
Peter Parker x reader
Summary: Having to keep up a lie is hard for Peter when you're trying to help him.
Word Count: 3366
Chapter 1 • Chapter 5
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"What do you mean finally?! This is bad. Really, really bad Ned. I shouldn't be thinking about her like that!"
"Dude, it's your feelings. You're gonna feel whatever way you do. You can't control that stuff."
"But this could ruin our friendship. I don't want that." Peter whined over the phone as he put his hand over his eyes, laying on his bed.
"Or~ maybe this could all work and you could score a girlfriend." Ned suggested, amusement laced in his voice. "I mean, I didn't want to be the first one to say this, but..."
"What?"
"Let's just put it this way. She's always had a cute heart. Over time, her heart got cuter and went straight to making her face kinda hot."
"Ned." Peter frustratedly said.
Ned gave him a goofy laugh. "You sound like your getting jealous or something."
Peter quickly sat up. "Do you think that'll happen?"
"Probably." He said nonchalantly. "All seriousness Peter, you should go for it. I always thought you two would be good together. There's just something there, trust me. And hey, you two could be the amazing spider couple. That'd be awesome."
"Spider couple." He smiled and laid back down. "You think people would make that, like, a ship name for us?"
"Dude, you could have a super girlfriend. How awesome does that sound?!"
Peter let out a chuckle. "That does sound pretty cool. Okay, thanks for the therapy session. Night Ned."
"No problem. Night." And with that Peter stayed up to think about you some more.
The next week at school went horribly. All Peter wanted to do was spend more time with you, but you kept pushing him towards Liz at gym class and in Mathletes. He felt so jealous whenever he saw you goofing off with Ned. You were a very touchy person, and every warm hug to Ned felt like Peter's arms were getting colder.
When Liz was finally busy, he went over to you and sat a little closer to you than usual. "Hey Peter." You greeted brightly. "Any progress?"
"On what?" He asked dumbly.
"Liz." You said quietly.
"Oh!" He voice cracked and cleared his throat. "Oh. Um, not really. I think I'm done for the day."
"Aw, Peter!" You rubbed his arm. "You shouldn't give up on stuff that's important to you."
He sighed, glancing at Ned's confused face. "Can't I just spend the rest of the day with you?"
You smiled and nodded, patting his cheek gently. Peter's phone buzzed and it was a text message from Ned.
Not Guy in the Chair: Why didn't you tell her how you feel?
He glanced at you working on your notes.
SM: I don't want things to be weird.
Not Guy in the Chair: The truth will set you free 🕊️🕊️
SM: Shhhh
You then took out left over brownies for Peter. He gladly took one as Flash came over, taking one out of the container as well. "Hey babe."
"Don't touch my stuff and never call me that." You closed your container and put it in your backpack. "What do you want Flash?"
"Just making sure you got a hot outfit for the party. Finally gonna show some skin?"
"I do have a costume. Peter was with me when I got it too. We had a lot of fun." Peter looked at you and smiled.
Flash then rolled his eyes. "Really? How could anyone ever have fun with Penis Parker?"
"Well we do." You tugged each boy at your side into a side hug. "Do you have a special trio that would do anything for you?"
He nervously scoffed. "I have more than two friends. Does every friend seem special to you when you're not popular?"
"If you called one of your friends in the middle of the night and told them to come over cause you're sad, would any of them do it?" He was silent as he looked down. "That's a special friend. Now goodbye."
"Y'know—"
"Good. Bye." You pressed, frowning.
"I—"
"Dude," MJ interrupted. "Know when you've been beat. Walk away."
He then did so, stomping away. You smiled and looked over to MJ. "Why do we not talk to each other?"
"Cause you're a loser." She said, matter-of-factly.
Though Ned and Peter have her a confused frown, your smile only widened. "What are you?"
"Friendless."
"Not anymore!" You exclaimed. The teacher then announced that the club session just ended. "We'll see you at lunch tomorrow then."
She stared at you for a moment. "...Okay, I guess. Bye." You could tell that she held back a smile as you excitedly waved at her before packing up.
You and Peter were walking home, when he asked about MJ. "I don't know." You said, shrugging. "I just feel like she's cool. My spidey senses can feel it."
"You say that about everything." He laughed.
"Because I'm always right about everything. It's a given." He chuckled again. "C'mon, don't you ever have intensified feelings about some things or people?"
He awkwardly smiled and nodded, looking away from you. "More than I should." He mumbled.
"Hm?"
"I said I should hope so."
"Well then, see? I'm right again." You grinned.
"Did your spidey senses feel that too?"
"Yup." You both chuckled.
Over the next few days MJ began to directly hang out with you and the boys, and she said that she would be going to the party as well. "I don't believe in stereotyping geeks out of parties, which is why I'm supporting you guys tomorrow." She explained with an almost unnoticeable smile.
"So generous." You teased back, Ned and Peter smiling as well. "What'll you be going as?"
"Oh, I'll be going as part of the impartial generation of today." She gave a sly smile.
"Nice, nice." You nodded contently before Flash came up to your table again. "Holy crap man, are you sure you even have friends? Why do you keep bugging me?"
"Just wanted to see what the new member of the Penis Parker group was like." He then nodded to Mj, to which she didn't respond. He then rudely waved his hand over her face. "Hello?"
She backed her face up as you smacked his hand away. "Leave her alone."
"What? This is probably the most exciting thing to happen to her. It's not like you guys have interesting lives." You and Peter looked at each other. "I'm guessing that's a no?"
"Well Peter and y/n know Spiderman and Spidergirl!" Ned blurted out.
Flash then did a breathy, wheezing laugh. "Are you kidding me? How would they know them?"
"The Stark Internship!"
"Ned, stop talking." You mumbled. Ned nodded and put his head down. "We met them a few times, so we don't really know them or anything, and even if we did were aren't supposed to talk about it."
"Well Peter," he ignored you. "If you're actually cool then why don't you invite them the the party?"
"Cause we wouldn't want to waste their time by having them go to some fanboy's party." You argued, knowing Peter would choke up if he answered.
Flash shrugged it off. "That's what I thought." He said as he left.
The next day you were talking to Linda while in your costume with your mini backpack slung over your shoulder. She was telling you about the job interview she's getting and how she's saving up the money from Tony's watch to rent an apartment in the building you live it. "I'm so happy right now Linda! You could totally be one of those super nosey neighbors, and I would pretend to be okay with it!"
"That would be a dream come true." She said as you both turned your heads to see Peter coming, also dressed up. "Just a few years older, and I would totally go for that."
You sighed. "You're such a creeper Linda."
"And you should loosen up and be more of a creeper." You gave her a look, and she only shrugged. "Just saying. Press on and go for it."
"Hey guys." Peter greeted with a smile. "Everything okay?"
"Yup!" You hopped off the steps you were sitting on. "Let's go."
"Okay. Bye Linda." Peter politely waved.
"Don't acknowledge her Peter, it makes her weirder."
"Don't be jealous that I'm more fun." She called out, smiling.
Peter chuckled and tried to put his hands in his pockets, only for his hands to slip from there being none. He didn't know what to do with his free hand that wasn't carrying the shield. He probably looked so awkward in front of you right now. This was so nerve wracking.
"Peter calm down." You suddenly said, causing him to jump a little. "It's my first party too, but we got each other. And we know Ned's gonna be there to be a dork, and Mj will be there to remind us how stupid we look. It'll be great."
He nervously laughed, scratching his head. "Yeah, I guess." He then became nervous just thinking about what would happen if you discovered this crush, especially at the party with Flash. "Y/n, what do you see in men?"
The question was unexpected, and your face felt like it was in flames. "What would you ask that?"
"Just wondering. I don't think I've ever seen you flirt with someone." He mentally sighed at the save.
"Mm, I guess he has to be nice, for starters. I'd want him to make me laugh, and care about me. I don't know, that's really it."
"Really? Only that?"
"Yeah?"
"Nothing with looks, or..."
"Peter!" You lightly smacked his arm and giggled. "You know I don't care about that stuff."
"You care about your own looks." He said quietly.
"That's different though." You grinned and tugged on his wrist. "We're here. C'mon."
Ned was waiting on the steps, looking up at you two in major relief. "Guys, tell me you brought the suits."
You both nodded. "Our suits aren't party tricks." You said. "This feels way too wrong."
"Yeah, I'm with y/n. Those suits are worth way too much to use for something like this." Peter added.
"Only for a few minutes. This is our chance for Flash to stop messing with us." Ned whined.
You huffed. "Okay, but only if Flash is being extra annoying."
The three of you walked inside and saw Flash trying to be a DJ, playing some basic techno music. He saw the three of you, and brought out his mic. "Hey Penis Parker, where's your superhero friends? That's not Spiderman, that's Ned in a onesie."
People began laughing, and you pursed your lips. "I'll be right back."
You left and went behind a building, opening your backpack and quickly changing into your hero outfit. You took a deep breath, and was about to swing in when you got a call from Peter.
"Dude, tell me she's doing it." You could hear Ned say.
"I don't know, I'm gonna ask her. Y/n?"
"Yeah?" You laughed out.
"Did you really put it on?"
"Yeah. Are you gonna join me or do you just want me to do it?"
"This doesn't feel right."
"Peter doesn't know what he's saying." Ned called out in a child-like tone.
"Ned's being mean to me." Peter responded in the same tone.
You giggled. "Look guys, I don't feel great about it, but Flash needs to be knocked down a peg. It hurts to see him treat you guys like crap. This is just gonna be a one time thing, right?"
"Right." Peter confirmed.
Ned remained silent, but Peter nudged him. He huffed. "Right."
"Okay, I'll be down in a bit." You then ended the call.
"So, I've been meaning to ask," Ned said. "But why does y/n still think you like Liz? I thought you were gonna tell her yesterday."
"I didn't know how to tell her the truth! I panicked!"
"You're hopeless." Mj said as she walked up to the two boys. "What happened to y/n?"
"She went to go get Spidergirl." Ned nodded for way to long as he said this.
"Wait," She looked genuinely surprised. "So you guys, like, actually know the Spider heros?"
"What was that?" Flash asked over his mic. "Is Penis Parker actually going to bring Spiderman and Spidergirl here?"
"Actually, um, Spiderman couldn't make it." Peter said before clearing his throat awkwardly. "But Spidergirl said she'd make an appearance."
Flash obnoxiously laughes into the mic. "Can anybody believe this guy?"
You then swung in. "I do." You raised your hand playfully as everyone began cheering. "You guys were expecting me, right?"
Everyone cheered again. "Oh my God." Flash said in a high pitched manner.
You grabbed Ned by the shoulders. "It's Ned, right?" You asked over the music, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I've heard good things about you."
"All true." He showed his goofy smile.
You patted his cheek. "I bet!" You turned and walked over to Peter, giving him a big hug. He returned it, finding the hug oddly comforting considering everyone was staring. "Peter! It's been a bit, huh?"
He awkwardly chuckled. "Yeah. Thanks for coming."
"Of course! When I heard from SM that the Peter Parker finally had time for a party, I knew I had to come and see it for myself! Maybe my partner could join in next time, yeah?"
"We... Um..." He kept doing his little pant–laugh thing that he does when he doesn't know what to say. "Yeah."
You moved over to look at Mj. "You go by Mj, right?" She nodded. "Y/n tells me you're super opinionated and awesome."
She smiled and shrugged, tucking back some hair. "I just kinda say whatever comes to mind. I don't really think before I talk sometimes."
You tapped her chin. "I love it. Never change." You then clapped your hands. "Now! Where's Flash Thompson?"
Everyone pointed to Flash, who quickly turned down the music. You swung to him quickly and caused him to back up into a small table, awkwardly steadying it. "H... Hi."
"Hi Flash. I wanted to let you know that me and Spiderman keep tabs on our friends, to make sure they're okay. We're pretty protective, y'know?"
"Yeah, yeah. I totally get that." He kept awkwardly nodding.
You nodded and patted his cheek. "I knew you would, so I need you to keep an eye on Peter and Ned while me and SM can't. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, yes I can. I could do anything for you."
"Thank you Flash." You patted his arm, to which he looked at his arm in amazement. "Amazing. Okay, I gotta go. But remember, I keep tabs on your school, so I'll be watching!"
You then walked around for a bit taking pictures and talked to some people. You suddenly felt goosebumps all over and excused yourself, flying out and looking around. You saw a small blue explosion in the distance and quickly texted Peter.
He came as soon as he could and you explained the situation. Unbeknownst to the two of you, Mj noticed Peter leave quickly after you did. She also noticed that you weren't in sight while Spidergirl was here.
"Okay, okay. I, I need to change!" He then quickly took off his shirt and started unbuckling his pants, looking up to you dumbly staring at him. "Uh..."
"Sorry!" You quickly turned around and look off your mini backpack, plopping it down next to yourself. It had Peter's suit folded inside. "That was partially not my fault. You gotta warn somebody before you start stripping next time."
"Next time?" He asked teasingly. "You say it like you want it to happen again."
Truth be told, neither of you knew where this new found confidence of Peter came from to tease you like that. It was almost like he was flirting. You liked it though; it was as if he was becoming more confident and mature with himself.
Your face was hot as you grinned at the ground. "Well, you gotta pay for whatever expensive college you're gonna get into somehow. And I'll come visit at the strip club to support my best friend."
He hugged you with one arm from behind. "So supportive. Maybe the reason I'm a stripper is to support the both of us."
You chuckled and rubbed his arm. "My hero."
He turned you around and handed you your backpack. "This is a cool backpack, by the way. I like the mini things of Thor."
"Thank you." You said, awkwardly taking the backpack. "Now let's go."
Neither of you could get some webbing to hold onto any tree in the area, so instead you both ran across a whole field, looking kind of comical. By the time you two got there this one man was showing another some high tech weapons. You were getting closer to listen in, and it sounded like the guy wasn't interested in what the others were trying to sell.
"Why you trying to upsell me man?"
The other two guys didn't like this, and were slowly getting angrier. You tried to get closer, but Peter's phone went off from Ned calling him. You both hid as Peter fumbled to end the call, and the two merchants assumed the buyer was setting them up because of the noice. In an instant there were two guns pointed at the buyer.
"Woah, woah!" You yelled as you and Peter came out, hands up. "C'mon guys, I promise he wasn't turning his back on you two. And I'm a good guy; good guys don't lie."
"Really, if you guys are gonna shoot at anybody, shoot at me." Peter said with seriousness. "I'm the real threat."
The two guys looked at each other and pointed their guns at the both of you. "Okay."
You both dodged their shots and flung their guns away with your webs. You tried to shoot at the wheels of the car but the man with an electric glove shot at you, causing you to fling back. You noticed that the buyer hesitated to go and help you, but decided not to and instead hopped in his car and drove away.
When you got up they were getting in the car so you and Peter shot a web to the door. The door broke off, but Peter shot another web to the car to have you two ride the door.
"Hey, I got a really stupid idea!" You yelled out as the guy in the back of the van was reaching for a gun.
"Go for it!" The van hit a sharp turn, and you took this as chance to let go of the door and leap to a tree, using your strength to push and dive head first into the van.
"Woah, I did it!" The shocker guy tried to punch you with his electric glove, but you dodged it. "Someone's bitter!"
You began to go on a defensive position and dodge his contact hits and fires in the narrow van, until Peter shot a web at him that pinned one of his hands to the side of the van. He used the other hand to shoot at Peter, blasting him into a backyard.
"I'm okay!" You heard him yell out from a distance.
You slammed the shocker guy to the ground and pinned his hands and feet to the ground. You stood and shot web to cover his mouth as well. "That was a pretty rude thing to do, but I guess two v one isn't fair. Then again, you're are a bad guy."
You remembered that you had your backpack on this whole time, and took it off to hug it.
"Mh. Once again, Thor backpack comes in clutch. Odinson, you can me do no wrong." You opened your backpack and put some small weapons in it, zipping it up and putting it back on. You looked outside before turning around to talk to the man pinned on the ground. "I wonder where Spiderman went. It's all good though, I'll stop the car—"
You were cut off by something grabbing you and yanking you back. You yelped as you were whipped into this huge lake. The water hit you painfully and you began to see spots, seeing a flash of a man with mechanical wings. You almost didn't feel something bring you up.
"Thanks ma..." You looked up and winced. What was carrying you was the Iron Man suit. "Uh oh."
"I have some words for you two."
---
Tag List:
@flawlessapollo6 @them-cute-boys @lunawndrlnd @the-greatt-perhaps @babebenhardy @sofisofi1602 @smilexcaptainx @herondalism @coni-martina @youvebeenlizzed @melanisticroyalty
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ayamari-no-goshi · 3 years
Text
Verboten 4 | (T)
ff.net | AO3
Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)
Summary:   AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.
Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things
Parings: Danny/Sam
Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances
Chapter 4
Later that night, it was officially announced at dinner that the camper’s death was the result of an unfortunate accident. However, what shocked all the students was the decision to finish out the remaining time at the camp. According to Mr. Lancer, he had contacted the other teachers at the different sites, and that was the mutual decision.
Tucker had surprisingly spoken up and demanded how their teacher managed to get through since the cell phone service issue remained unresolved. After their meeting with the police officer, he had checked with other students, who all said the same thing. Their service was poor, and they hadn’t been able to contact anyone. For the technophile, it was extremely frustrating, and he had put a lot of effort in attempting to solve the problem on his own device. He told Danny and Sam that it almost seemed like there was a weird electrical phenomenon causing the problem.
Lancer stumbled for a moment, but he eventually said the Park Rangers had let him use their landline. He then changed the topic and began explaining what the activities for the next morning would be.
“Alright, now I’m really sure something’s fishy,” Tucker whispered to his friends. “Wanna bet he was never able to contact the other teachers?”
“I’ll pass, because I think you’re right,” Danny told him as he stole a glance at some of the nearby Rangers. They had been closely watching the students since the beginning of dinner. “I don’t think the Rangers agree with that decision.”
“Yeah, and did you notice? They’ve been stone faced during this whole thing.” Sam leaned forward as she continued. “I really think something more serious happened to that poor man.”
Danny nodded. “I don’t have the slightest idea what might have happened. You’d think they come right out and say if it was an animal attack. But, that’s fairly uncommon in our state. I mean, the most dangerous animal here is a black bear, but they aren’t very common.”
“It could have been a mountain lion attack. While they supposedly haven’t been in this state for decades, there are still regular reports of them. That’s something that might be kept quiet. I mean, that was an issue in Pennsylvania with their coyotes and the Game Commission.”
“That would make sense, but you’d think they’d still say something like it was an animal attack and chalk it up to him doing something stupid to upset a bear if that was the case,” Tucker mentioned as he fiddled with his PDA. “I still can’t get a good signal.”
“I guess we need to just remain on guard,” Danny mused as the other students began to stand. His friends agreed with him as stood and went to grab one of the paper schedules which held the next day’s events.
After Danny and Tucker headed back to their cabin after then had finished freshening up for the night at the communal showers, they were met with the jocks excitedly swapping information. Dash’s grin was almost cat-like as he caught sight of the pair. “So, I guess you dweebs didn’t hear about what actually happened to that camper.”
“Other than what we were told, no,” Danny told him as he went to grab something out of his bag. “And don’t you have anything better to do than spread nasty rumors about the dead?”
Dash’s grin immediately grew larger as he continued, “It’s not a rumor. One of the band geeks was up for an early piss and saw them bring the body into camp. That guy was in pieces.”
“Wha… what!? What did you say?” Tucker stammered as he dropped his PDA.
“Are you absolutely certain that’s what he saw?” Danny demanded as he stepped in between Tucker and Dash. “The camper could have been really messed up, but if he was covered in blood, dirt, and whatever else he encountered, maybe it looked worse than it really was.”
“As much as it annoys me to admit, Fenton makes a good point,” Dash’s other friend, Lucas, mentioned as he sat on his bed. “Without seeing it for ourselves, we don’t know how bad it was, and the kid was pretty scared when he repeated it. So, let me ask you this Fenton, what do you think happened?”
“I’m surprised you care about whatever I think. But,” Danny paused for a moment, “all I know for certain is that something bad happened, and the police and rangers aren’t happy about it. But, I’m not a cop, and I’m clearly not trained in stuff like this, so my hunches are probably wrong.”
“That’s not much of an answer.”
“Unlike some people, I’m not going to jump to conclusions before I know more.” Satisfied with the stunned looks of the jocks, Danny turned to finish preparing for bed. After a moment, he realized Tucker was staring at him. “What?”
“So, where’s this Danny Fenton been all these years?” his friend whispered at him.
Danny raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve never stood up your… you know… bullies before. What changed?”
“Nothing changed, not really,” Danny replied as he climbed into bed. “It’s just I can’t tolerate people spreading rumors like this. It brings bad luck, or at least I think so, and,” he paused for a moment before lowering his voice, “you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”
“Did your parents drill that into you or something?”
“Not my parents, but I can’t remember who did.”
……
The next day, the students were kept close to camp. Most of the day was spent learning basic camping skills. Although there were plenty of grumbles from his classmates, Danny found it pretty interesting as his parents wanted to keep him as far away from the woods as possible. He spent most of the morning in a boyish wonder as was instructed on setting up tents, campfires, and basic traps.
Sam spent a good portion of the morning teasing him, but he largely ignored her. Like a lot of boys, he had an interest in camping when he was younger, so this was a chance to experience it, or at least a small portion of it. However, by the time lunch hit, his enthusiasm had been replaced by uneasiness.
In the shadows cast by the trees around the camp, he felt as if someone was watching him. It was possible it was just an animal, but as the hours passed and the feeling continued, he determined that couldn’t be the cause. Most animals didn’t spend that long watching people, unless they were hunting, but most predators wouldn’t dream of getting so close to so many people. Both Sam and Tucker seemed apprehensive as well.
“Hey, did either of you heard those weird bird calls earlier?” Sam asked while they were eating dinner.
“I don’t know how you had time to listen to birds with how much manual labor we did earlier. I’m exhausted,” Tucker whined in between bites of his food.
“We barely did anything too strenuous. You really need to get out more.” The amused smirk on Sam’s face was quickly replaced by a frown. “But, in all seriousness, something sounded wrong. I’m pretty familiar with the birds around here, but I’ve never heard something like that before.”
“Is it possible it was an exotic bird?” Danny questioned. “I mean, it is possible one escaped or someone let one go.”
Sam considered his words for a moment. “While it’s possible, I don’t think that’s the case.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s hard to explain.” She brought her hand to her chin as she tried to put her thoughts to words. “The sound didn’t sound natural. It was almost mechanical.”
“A mechanical bird? Come on, Sam! Even for you, that’s pretty out there. Am I right, dude?” Tucker playfully nudged Danny, only to realize he seemed deep in thought. “Hey, what’s wrong? Earth to Danny.”
“Gah!” The sudden motion of Tucker waving his hand in front of his face startled him. “Sorry about that. It’s just that… I… I think I know what she means”
“Huh?”
“I don’t remember much about what happened when I went missing, but before things go hazy, I definitely remember a strange bird call. After doing some research, my parents said that calls like that are sometimes heard before unusual missing persons cases.”
“Dude! Don’t say stuff like that! I’m already freaked out enough as it is by this whole mess. Ouch! Did you really have to kick me?”
“Keep your voice down,” Sam warned him as she motioned to the side with a head nod. Danny followed the motion and noticed some of the Rangers seemed to be watching them. “I really don’t want them to pay attention to us. They’re watching us, all of us, like we’re prisoners or something. Anyways, Danny do you know anything more about that weird call?”
“My parents said it might be a type of lure, but I have no idea if that’s true or not. But, I think it was to catch my attention than anything else.” Danny shook his head. “Sam, we wouldn’t be doing this. Whatever that call was, it could have just been some weird bird.”
“Don’t you want to know?”
“Maybe? I don’t know. Look, I’ve been uneasy since we first arrived in this forest. I already told Tucker this, but talking about weird stuff like this brings bad luck. Can we put it on hold until we get out of here?”
“But Danny!” Her argument was cut short as he glared at her. She straightened up as her eyes narrowed. “As weird as everything is, I think the bigger mystery is what exactly happened to you when you went missing when you were a kid.”
“Look, I don’t know what happened,” Danny snapped. What was her problem?
“Clearly something did. What’s every going on here might be digging up some of those memories. Maybe you have a memory that could help, but you’re getting so defensive.”
“Of course I am! Would you like it if someone kept trying to make you remember something that’s probably better left forgotten?”
“Alright, alright. Chill already.”
His only response was to huff and turn away. Her stubbornness was something he both admired and occasionally hated. Whether it was petitioning her teachers to get a menu changed, rallying a protest, or badgering her friends for information, she often wouldn’t stop until she got her way. It was a big reason why he didn’t think they’d ever be able to get together.
They had discussed it the previous year, after Tucker outed their mutual attraction. Neither of them thought it would work out. Sam was too headstrong, and Danny was too reserved for it to be a functioning relationship. There was always a spark of hope, but it was situations like this that reminded him that they hadn’t changed. For the sake of their friendship, it wasn’t something they could safely consider.
Maybe when they got a little older, a little more mature, they would be able to act on their feelings, but that would have to wait. For now, he was just going to sit in an annoyed silence as he finished his… what exact was this food supposed to be anyways?
…..
Sam actually apologized to him the next day. However, he was still too irritated to speak to her, but by the time lunch rolled around, he had forgiven her.
The morning had been spent working on more wilderness survival skills, but the Rangers surprised them by announcing that they would be leading them on a hike on the trail that surrounded the camp. It was only supposed to last a couple hours at most, but three armed Rangers would be walking with them.
Annoyed and uneasy murmurs circled through the students as they formed groups of three and four. Those groups were then lined up; one Ranger moved to the front, one went to the back, and the other moved to the center of the line. Before they began to move, the Rangers warned the entire group that, under no circumstance, was anyone to go off on their own.
Although Sam and Tucker wanted to stay away from Lancer and the jocks who were near the front of the line, Danny would not allow them to be in the very back. After everything else that happened, he would not allow himself to be in the back on the line. The warning to stay away from the very back or front still rang in his ears. Unfortunately, that didn’t last very long.
As they began their trek, several of the groups fell to the back of the line. It forced Danny and his friends to have somewhat of a distance between the few band and more nerdy students who were following close to the first Ranger and Mr. Lancer, and the popular kids and jocks who were near the back. The Ranger who was supposed to be in the middle had hung back to help keep an eye on the larger portion of students.
“I don’t like this,” Danny mentioned as Sam had them stop for a moment as she made a quick sketch of a plant off the path. “Is it just me, or is it really quiet?” He had noticed it for a while. Usually a person should be able to hear bugs, birds, leaves rustling, something, but he hadn’t noticed any noise for a while.
“These are older forests, Danny,” Sam explained as she finished her sketch. “Noises often get muffled since plants can absorb sound to some extent.”
“It doesn’t mean it’s not creepy.”
“Actually, Sam, I agree with him,” Tucker mentioned as he looked over his shoulder. “I feel like we’re being watched.”
Sam tucked her sketch book in her bag before pointing to something behind them. “I think you’re right on that, but I don’t think it’s anything out of the ordinary.”
Danny and Tucker turned to see Dash and his friends, as well as some of the popular girls approach them from down the trail. Apparently, they had been spotted as Dash wore an evil grin as he said something to Kwan as he gestured towards them. A round of laughter followed.
“Great, just our luck. Do you think we’d be able to outrun them?” Danny asked as he warily eyed the approaching group.
“Are you nuts, dude? We can’t even outrun Sam.”
“Thanks for that lovely vote of confidence, Tucker.” ==================
Notes:
The coyotes and the Game Commission was an actual thing that happened. Basically, there weren’t supposed to be any coyotes in Pennsylvania, but there were farmers saying their animals were being attacked by something. One of the farmers, who lived nearby where I grew up, got permission to take a shot at creatures and ended up killing a coyote with a Game Commission tag in its ear. Twenty years later, the Game Commission has finally admitted coyotes are back in Pennsylvania, and that they can be hunted. Coyotes can attack people. While there aren’t many documented attacks, they have happened, and Pennsylvanians aren’t very happy about them popping up in towns and parks.
Mountains Lions, also known as Nittany Lions, Pumas and Cougars, are supposedly extinct in the states east of the Mississippi River (ignore Florida – it’s an exception). However, that’s another thing under debate. There have been many sightings of them throughout the years in the east, especially in the Appalachian (app-ah-lay-shin) Mountains. There is actually a picture of one found in Ohio near its border with Kentucky that was taken in 2014. I know there are recent reports in Pennsylvania and New York as well - this includes family members.
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