#why don't you fuck off into the nearest pond with that)

[marypsue]

If you're going to reblog my (admittedly very ADHD) post about, to borrow someone else's excellent summation, bees in the brain, to say 'OP check your medications', have you considered:

not doing that

[jaeminri]

guardians of love | 009

fiction novels and assholes (0.7k words)

mark vividly remembers the time when he first met you.

it was the beginning of freshman year and every freshmen had to attend the orientation party that lasted three days long. he had no friends in his department, because all his other friends were in science and business. he initially though he wouldn't have to make friends, because he assumed that art students were outgoing and they'd approach him themselves. yet, even as the first day of orientation went on, no one spoke to him. he wondered why, really. was he too intimidating? he doesn't think so, though.

so, when everyone was busy in the hall, bonding over icebreakers and music, he snuck out and sat on a bench along the school's pond.

and it was only then, that he had realised that someone else, aka you, was on the other bench a few feet away. because the pond's nearest hall belonged to the art department, he just knew the stranger was an art student. he thought he'd finally made a friend.

when he had slid onto the bench beside you, there was no reaction from you, and he wondered whether or not you had even notice him. you were reading a book, earphones plugged in, so he just thought that that was why you didn't give a care about his presence.

to start a conversation, he peeked over at your book, read a little and laughed. you had noticed him this time for sure, as you turn to him and you glared.

mark was taken aback, clearly in shock. you were a pretty girl, alright? (though, he doesn't think so now), so the fact that someone as pretty as you could hold such a nasty gaze, really intimidated him.

“sorry, didn't mean to interrupt,” he apologized, smile wiped off of his face.

you pulled out your earphones, snapped your book shut and you spoke, “what's so funny?” your tone was harsh, almost rude and mark, really, really hated rude people. his demeanor changed completely.

“chill, man. i just think the book is funny.”

“there is nothing funny about the main character falling in love with her love interest.”

“well, i found it funny. and it's a little stupid, don't you think?” his words slipped out carelessly, and your frown deepened as you stood up from your seat, “excuse me?”

“i mean, how can anyone love someone they hate? that's pretty ironic, don't you think?” mark argued.

as if offended, you scoffed, “well, the main character ended up learning to love her love interest. that's how.”

“that's so dumb.” mark laughed, not giving his words much thought. ge wasn't paying attention to your expression, the way it changed into fuming anger and the way your fists clenched at your sides. and even when he did notice, he could care less. mark thought you were overreacting, over a book — a fiction novel, even. he was so in his thoughts that he didn't even notice you storming up to him.

with large steps, you approached him and you gave him a harsh kick in his shin. mark groaned, hissing as he lifted his leg, “dude, what the fuck?!”

“that's for being a dick!”

“a dick?! all i said was the truth!”

mark held onto his leg tightly, the pain never leaving. he wondered if you did martial arts or something, because how could someone as small-sized as you inflict such tremendous pain? he thought he was going to faint.

“yeah, well I didn't ask for your ‘truth’, asshole!” you snapped harshly, anger boiling as you turned on your heels and stormed off. mark felt himself stumbling on his one feet, while his other was still held up. he tried grasping onto the bench, but as he tried to reach for it, he lost his balance and he hopped further away from the bench. he heard himself yell, “you crazy bitch!” before he dropped into the pond.

when mark stuck his head out of the water to gasp for air, he wiped at his face, floating in the murky water. after shaking off the water, he watched your figure slowly disappearing into the hall of arts, giving no care about his drenched self.

“motherfucker.”

synopsis. for the upcoming valentine's event happening in your school, you are assigned to work on a podcast to enhance the romantic mood, and keep listeners on their toes as they anticipate the weekly confessions. but valentine's is almost two months away, and there has to be something other than the weekly confession letters to entertain the students. hence, when your professor assigns one more person to the podcast as an extra helping hand to come up with ideas, you don't mind. except, the extra helping hand, is mark lee, the one man that does not believe in love.

pairing. mark lee x f!reader

genre. fluff, angst, comedy, smau, college au, podcast au, enemies to lovers, pining, opposites attract, slowburn, music major mark and journalism major reader, features other idols

warnings. profanity, alcohol, smoking, suggestive, ignore dates and timestamps

status. completed

taglist. open

[for-the-ninth]

Thanks for the tag @charmcity-jess!!!

Been working on a second draft of Ch. 14 of The Life That Left Me. I've written both Shielan and Cullen as emotionally closed off, but for different reasons. Cullen is a bit softer than she is right now. He's suddenly a small fish in a huge pond and is kinda floundering in his search for purpose as he works his way out of survival mode. I don't want to reveal too much, but suffice it to say Shielan has Been Through It way before the Inquisition, so she has precious little sympathy to offer someone like Cullen, and it shows in their dialogue (which is why I have so much fun writing it).

***

Shielan held the lantern up, eyes raking over his disheveled state. “You look like shit.”

Cullen waited for a self-satisfied smirk or a laugh at his expense, but none came. She only stood, staring blankly, like she’d rather be anywhere but across from him, and he could hardly blame her.

“Thanks.” He tried for an easy chuckle—anything to dull the overbearing awkwardness—but judging by the roll of her eyes, it didn’t land.

“You’re being reassigned today,” she said. “Boss is a real hardass, so you’ll need to stay on your toes…”

Cullen knew he should be paying attention; he knew she never spoke superfluously and she hated wasting her breath, but warm rays of amber filtered through the unsightly hole of the dungeon’s exterior wall and cast their glow on her face, and his spirit was consumed with desires that struck him as unholy. He’d never seen her this early, before stress and exhaustion bore their weight on the muscles of her face. Her shoulders hung low, not drawn together as they were during meetings, and her hair, not yet ruffled by her comings and goings, lay in a neat braid over her shoulder. An errant strand slipped out to frame her face as she spoke, and he stifled the urge to tuck it behind her ear. It'd been so long since he touched another person.

“Hey, asshole!” She snapped her fingers in his face.

“Sorry, I—”

“Fuck me, I don’t know why I even bother.” She turned on her heel and strode away from him. “Might as well be talking to a goddamned corpse, for all it’s…” Her mutterings trailed off as she marched out of the exterior dungeon, and though she gave no such direction, Cullen figured it in his best interest to follow.

“What time is it?” His voice echoed off the stone as he ambled behind her, one hand clutching his aching thigh. Why was he still limping?

“Late.” She stood at the door, arms folded across her chest until he caught up to her. “As I already fucking said, you’re being reassigned today. Finding someone to take you on was a hard sell—that twat of a guard ran his mouth to anyone who would listen about your little meltdown. Luckily for you, the head of kitchen staff trusts me when I vouch for people.”

Cullen hobbled through the doorway and headed straight for the nearest stone column, panting and clutching it with both hands as she pulled the door shut behind him. “You recommended me for the job?”

“Recommended is a strong word. But I said I’d get you reassigned, and I—”

Shielan paused. Her eyes did not avert his own, but flitted off to the side, momentarily glazed over as though she were recalling a memory she couldn’t speak of. When she met his gaze again, her jaw was stiff, and her tone brisk.

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” She cleared her throat and added, softly: “Not anymore.”

tags: @barbex @scribbledquillz @roguelioness @oxygenforthewicked @a11sha11fade @rakshadow