why is dating the hardest thing ever. oversharing disclaimer i guess. as a 21 year old with almost no experience, i cant even get myself to swipe right on a person i find attractive?? there are so many things to consider and i immediately have a mindset of "would this work as a relationship?". i don´t want something casual because i still have some ´firsts´ to experience and i want it to be with someone i trust and genuinely like. i am very aware that that´s valid but at the same time it is just unrealistic i feel. more importantly i would much rather meet someone in real life which is impossible outside of a going out / party context. maybe i am impatient but like. rightfully so cause i´m not getting any younger. 🤠
i´m currently mourning we heart it again. like if i were rich, i would buy we heart it - or the name i guess - and revive it. i swear people would love it.
it was literally my favorite thing to do at 13 years old - sitting down on a saturday to write an "article" (participating in tags) on my old ass laptop which literally took me 3 hours each time cause i was scrolling to get the most aesthetic pictures possible.
like, tumblr is a similar concept but we heart it was so much cooler too me. also i only had it for like 1.5 years before it was deactivated. ):
🎧 chasing cars - snow patrol and there is a light that never goes out - the smiths
“every time i’m here, i get jealous of your blanket. seriously what material is this? its crazy how its so soft. i’ve never had bed sheets this soft”, your best friend, haechan, said, truly sounding amazed. you looked over and saw that he completely buried himself in your blanket, only his head sticking out.
it made you laugh lightly, but you didn’t answer. you focused on your homework while haechan just enjoyed doing nothing and lying around. the room was filled with the smell of tea. your cup freshly refilled and hot, while haechan‘s cup was only half full and already cold, standing on your night stand.
“and im jealous of you because you can lay there stress-free”, you replied, but facing him with your back since you’re sitting at your desk. he watched you doing your assignment for a minute or two, not wanting to interrupt you because he knew you get the most amount of stuff done when you’re in a ‘flow’ like now.
you apologized to your best friend for having to work first and put on headphones and finished your work in about thirty minutes. when you turned around on your desk chair, you see haechan has dozed off. a soft smile spread on your lips and you decided to let him nap for a while. you packed your bag for the next day, then grabbed your phone and made yourself comfortable on the space that was left of your bed, being careful not to wake him up.
another twenty minutes passed before haechan woke up, stretching and yawning. “rise and shine!” you greeted him. he laughed quietly, “shut up”.
“i’d really like to have my bed back”, you said. “too bad. it’s mine now”, hyuck sticked out his tongue at you. you shrugged, “not like we haven’t shared a bed before”, and lifted up the blanket to get under it too. “hey, move!”, you told haechan, who just stared at you at first but then did move. you snuggled into your sheets, which were indeed very cozy - haechan did not exaggerate this time - and didn’t even notice how your best friend tensed up next to you.
“sorry”, you mumbled, “you probably expected a more exciting hang out than this.”
“no”, haechan said, “i knew what i signed up for when i texted this morning.”
you had to laugh, “why would you want to hang out here when i would be busy studying? are my sheets really that great?” haechan smiled “well yeah they are great. but-“, he paused, “i just wanted to spend time with you”. your heart melted at the way he looked at you. the moment suddenly felt very intimate.
your body acted before you could think and you snuggled into haechans side. he wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours.
the room fell quiet for a while and you just enjoyed the moment, butterflys dancing around in your stomach.
“you know”, you hesitantly said, “i just wanted to spend time with you, too.” haechan kissed the crown of your head then. immediately, your cheeks turned red but you turned around to look him in the eyes nonetheless. you grinned, “i would always choose your company over anything even if it means that i study while you sleep”.
i can't lie to you i loveee bad endings sometimes. what if nothing worked out. what if the characters gave into their worst instincts. what if they became worse. what if there's truly no hope left. what will they do out of desperation? who will they become as their worst selves?
forever in awe of people who pay attention. people who wait for you while you tie your shoes while the others have walked away. when they continue listening intently while the rest of the group stopped listening. noticing your moments of silence when everyone else hasn’t. “this made me think of you” noticing things you never even noticed about yourself. people who say “text me when you get home safe.” people who make you laugh until you cry. childhood friends who keep in touch. people with genuine intentions. people who are soft when the world has given them every opportunity to turn hard. the “let’s get ice cream” at 3am friend. the turn up the music in the car and sing friend. people whose actions match their words. people who make the world feel less chaotic. kindred spirits. the trustworthy and honest. hard workers. good listeners. clear communicators. people who love you for who you are. people who don’t ask you to be anything other than yourself. people who choose you. people who stay.
mark lee / angst prompt requested by @lyyhyuck [see notes below!] | 🎧 inspired by apple pie lizzy mcalpine
-
“you know,” mark said. “i actually found the perfect flat for us on craigslist last week.”
“hmm, really?” you replied as you took out the homemade apple pie you both prepared from the oven. you placed it on the kitchen counter and mark, with a fork in his hand, poked the slightly smoking surface just to check if it’s oh-kay.
“tell me about it.”
“so… it got two rooms, window facing, right?” mark carelessly divided the pie in small portions. you were chuckling as he was struggling to do it with his tiny fork.
“gosh… you’re so stupid,” you said.
“i know!” mark exclaimed. “anyways, the city’s the view. a bit of skyscraper there and some trees… here’s a little crowded. no bushes, right? so… just a perfect balance of your definition of a city.” he shrugged.
“oh, yeah?”
“yeah!” mark took a bite of his first slice and literally moaned. “oh, we make the best apple pies!”
“i know!” you mocked him back, just the same way he exaggerated his “i know”.
then mark just stared at you for quite some seconds with an amused smile on his face.
“the sun’s gonna hit our windows pretty hard though,” he continued while poking on chunks of the fallen apple pies on the side of the glass plate. “do you think it’s okay if there’ll be no AC?”
“it gets cold in winter. should be fine?”
“you have a sexy brain.” mark pointed out.
“i know.”
“might be a little cramped, too. the place’s pretty small but could fit us both. just enough and… well, perfectly made for us.”
“yeah?”
“yeah.”
“how’d you know?”
“i actually went there as soon as i saw it listed.”
“mmh,” you nodded.
mark took a bite of another portion of the apple pie. he bit just some of it and remnants fell on the kitchen counter. you just laughed but were a bit irritated. but still, he’s still cute as ever.
“you’re so messy, mark.” you said as you brought some paper towels to wipe them off the surface.
“you know me.”
“yeah, i do.”
“yeah.”
then there was a pause. only the sound of your forks clinking the glass plate and you munching. the apple pie’s already consumed in half.
you looked at mark who is now concentrated on not messing up another portion of the pie he’s about to eat. then you broke the silence.
“why’d you go there, markie?”
mark spared a glance at you. you can see his fork retiring inside the glass plate.
“well… i don’t know really.”
“interesting…” you playfully let this remark go but he just carefully stared at your features.
“but you know what?”, mark placed his palms both on the kitchen counter. “when i entered the place, i actually pictured you staring at the view.”
you carefully dropped your fork and looked at him. god, why do you feel like crying?
“then i could picture us doing another apple pie at the tiny kitchen right across the tiny living room.” he continued.
“and you know,” he ran his fingers through his hair. “i just had to see it. i just… fuck… i just had to see what the parallel universe had in store for us.”
and you couldn’t utter a single word. and fuck, those words did hurt like a falling brick straight into your head.
“you were beautiful there, by the way. i mean, you always are.”, he smiles as he stared at the now broken apple pie. “you… you were drinking your coffee there. and i didn’t even give a shit about what the realtor was saying. i wanted to hug you there,
but i know… i can’t.” he chuckled at the ridiculous thought.
“must be pretty then.” you smiled.
“yeah. it was a pretty sight.”
the apple pie is almost gone. the food isn’t big. just perfect for the two of you to be eaten. mark thought it was a little extra delicious today, and it just sat there perfectly. the timing was perfect. it was your last shared apple pie together anyway.
“markie,” he said.
“hmm?”
“that… say it again… please?”
you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, and your eyes are starting to get watery. he must’ve taken the sight of you questioning why.
“i just… i just haven’t heard it in months, baby.”
and you couldn’t hold your tears any longer. what a fucking shit show to cry over ‘baby’. you wiped your tears away and stared at each other.
then laughs filled the kitchen—the kitchen mark insisted on filling with utensils and ingredients because your apartment’s looked pretty empty. mark was the one who brought the oven using his third salary from his first-ever job. he liked pastries and sweets, and boy, you did learn how to bake for him. but with multiple times of you almost burning the kitchen, one day he just joined and it naturally became your thing together.
when laughs died down, you said his final request.
“markie..."
“i’m gonna miss you so much, baby.”
“i know. i will, too."
then mark looked at his watch. it was already five thirty in the afternoon.
“i have to… i have to catch the train at six.”
“oh, yeah! i almost forgot. it’s the rush hour now.”
“yeah, yeah…”
he walked towards the living room and carried a brown box containing his things that were always in your apartment—mugs, shirts, hoodies, sweatpants, slip-ons, and hell, even boxers.
when he was already good to go, he took a good glance at your apartment for the last time. and you were there, opening the door for him, and waited.
he walked out your door without saying goodbye. you feel like chasing him but your feet couldn't.
but before he headed to the elevators, you finally asked a final question that could mend or break your heart.
“mark.?
he turned around. his cheeks were red and his eyes were almost teary. your voice echoed on the almost empty floor.
“did you regret being with me? or any of this?”
“no.”
mark smiled.
“how could i, if you gave me so much to remember?”
-
thank you, @lyyhyuck, for requesting this! and oh, i'm adding the song to my playlist now. i haven't had apple pie in a while. might give it a go this weekend. cheers!
prompt/request reveal by @lyyhyuck!
could I request mark angst? anything you can think of really (: my favorite sad song at the moment is apple pie by Lizzie McAlpine
summary: you think mark has fallen out of love. he insists he did not.
notes: swearing, was listening to sza's special oh gosh i just remembered mark liked this song from sos omg?????? will proofread some other time it's literally 2 in the morning here night night
genre: angst because i never write fluff! | word count: 1k
-
“mark?” you called the boy who was humming the chorus of coldplay’s yellow. he was sitting in the living room after a cold, quiet dinner you both shared. he seemed to not notice it,
but you know he was doing it on purpose.
“mark.” you repeated his name again, in hopes to finish what is meant to be finished a long time ago. he didn’t budge. his eyes were fixed on the dried tulips that you used to take care of when you come to his apartment. you always scold mark for not watering them often, then now, here we are—they are far from being saved.
just like this one.
“i’m really tired, mark…”
mark suddenly tilted his head at your direction and said, “i’ll fix the bed, baby.”
“no”, you grabbed his wrist by the time he was already walking towards the bedroom. “mark-”
but he swatted your hand away and opened the lights instead. the room still feels the same. it smells like him—his perfume lingered across the room. the bed looks inviting but seemed cold. there sat his green hoodie—your favorite hoodie—on the mattress; almost wrinkled, dryly wrung.
mark opened his closet and brought out two extra pillows. he placed them on the top of the bed. “we always share the duvet, right?”
“stop this, mark.” you tried to protest but he kept crouching to fix the bed. he was smoothing it with his hands, trying to perfect any loose edges and all. he patted the pillows that you used to lay your head onto.
“mark!”
he stopped in his tracks and finally looked at you.
he was already crying.
“i…” you stammered but you cleared your throat to continue. “i know that you feel it, too.”
“bed’s ready, baby.”
“we’re no longer the same, mark.”
“do you want me to turn on the heater?”
there is no way mark is having this conversation, he thought it himself. but good god, you have to.
it was so difficult to witness how the bright smiles turned into faltering ones. the hugs he gives, they seemed like a chore. his eyes spark whenever he goes on a trip with his friends, and never to the plans you ought to make. him coming home and you felt honesty finally left between the two of you. he never smelled sex or an unfamiliar perfume, but these are just the little things that added to the pining, gradual changes, that turned so fucking bittersweet, it felt like it was twisting your guts every single day.
and you have already thought of it: mark has fallen out of love.
“i need to hear it from you so i don’t have to think what i’ve done wrong and whatnot—because i’m so tired; tired of whatever the fuck this is.” you were begging at this point. you heard him sniffling while wiping his tears away. “just say it.”
you reached for his damp hands and squeezed them so firmly. mark looked at you; so helpless, so naive, so vulnerable. he made you like this, mark thought. and he could never forgive himself for ruining you.
“please help me, mark… i just need you to say it.”
“i…” mark started to speak.
you squeezed his hands again, hoping something would finally come out; so desperate, so needy, such pleading, pleading, and endless pleading.
mark looked at you so dearly, with worry on his face; and the sight softened your features. it looked exactly the same when you visited his apartment looking all soaked from the rain. he scolded you for not bringing any umbrella with you. you smiled at the memory and almost nonchalantly, you said:
“help me to help you let me go, mark.”
but mark could not let you go.
every time you tell him that you love him, mark flinches. your love story is nowhere near the perfect fairytale, and uncertainties of the future have consumed mark to convince himself this is not going to last. but every time he pushes you away, you always come back.
why do you always come back? mark seeks answers from god, holding back his cries as he continuously and involuntarily steers himself away from you. what have i done wrong to deserve you; so good, so delicate, so dearly to me? he prays to god as he punishes himself, until the day you waved the white flag finally arrived.
but it would be too cruel, too insufferable, too immensely painful to watch you walk out the door. it would be too painful to feel your scent fading from his green hoodie he always embraces to sleep just because he could not do what his heart wants. the dried tulips, he tried watering them as much as he could, but they were you—so beautiful, so fragile who he wrecked.
so mark pulled you into a kiss; so intense, so desperate, so lovely, and so so apologetic. confusion and yearning consumed you as you deep dive in, but somehow, it spoke volumes—he has set himself free from the demons whispering in his sleep, the nightmares depicting him losing you in a crowd, and the intricate shackles imprisoning his heart.
“i’m sorry for all and for this but i can’t”, mark said as he now stared at your plump lips and back to your searching eyes. “god, i really can’t let you go. i’d be a fucking fool to let you go—not today, not tomorrow, and not in this lifetime or the next.”
you nodded. you understood. and that’s why you kept coming back because there was always your mark that remains despite the despites.
“i love you so much.” he kissed the tips of your fingers and rested your palm on his cheeks, leaning into your touch like a once lost child; so endearing, so passionate, so lovingly.
and you submit to him entirely because you know he's worth it, all of it.
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