#WHICH SHOULDN'T BE MECHANICALLY POSSIBLE

[ajemmys]

had the actual most stressful experience of my life tonight 🤪

[raposarealm]

OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE- I got the unit itself and not one copy of the three-star memo!? I got like, six other three-star memos, two four-star memos ("Reaching Out Towards Our Goal" and "Depart at Morning Glow", so not even particularly stellar ones either,) But. I got a four-star rate-up unit in forty pulls. ...Alright, Masara, Kokoro, y'all win. I give. I guess I have to like this unit now. I formally apologize for being a dick about the whole event now. I really do have a whole carton of eggs on my face. I still want that memo.

[jaythelay]

"TOP 10 REASONS WHY DARK SOULS 2 IS GOOD!"

Number 1: Fast travel from the start.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader #33 Ghost helps fix up your house or makes repairs - for @glitterypirateduck's Ghost writing challenge

His phone rings again on the following Tuesday morning.

It's been a day and a half, since he's seen you and Orion last. Since he made you promise to call, no matter what, if you needed something. Or if you needed a break, or some company.

Anything. Anything, and he'd be there.

You had tried to push him off a bit, tried to assert your independence, which he appreciates, he values. He likes to know you can take care of yourself and the baby when he's not here. But when he is-

"We're really fine, you know. You don't have to be... available for us, whenever. I mean, like if you have other things. Or people, you don't have to be here all the time. I've been doin' it on my own, and I'm fine. We're fine. I don't want you to feel like you have to-"

His fork clatters to the plate, and your eyes go round as he rises from the chair and steps toward you, firm hand cupping your arm. "I'm here because I wan' to be."

"O-okay, I just don't want you to be here because you think you have to... because you're all the sudden saddled with a kid."

"I'm not here because I feel like 've been saddled with a kid. I'm here because I want to be, because I wanted you the night we made him, and I still do. I want you both." Your mouth drops wide before snapping shut abruptly, warmth rising in your cheeks. You're so cute like this, flustered and nervous, and it reminds him of the night he met you, a sweet little kitten, all alone at the bar. "And you've done more than just a fine job, sweet girl, takin' care of yourself and our baby for me, but when 'm here, it's my job."

So, his phone rings, and it doesn't matter that he's in the middle of spotting Soap at the squat rack.

He drops everything.

"Hi." You're a little out of breath when you open the door, eyes wide and wild, chewing on your lip. Orion is asleep in your arms, blissfully unaware, head lolling on your shoulder, clad only in a diaper.

His head buzzes, still trying to reconcile the truth of this entire thing, the fact that this is his, you and his baby. His.

"What's wrong?" He's massive in your door frame, and ushers you back inside, clicking the lock into place behind him. "What's goin' on?"

"It's... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called. I just... I don't know how to fix it and you said I could... call, right? So-"

"Hey." His thumb gently presses into the inside of your elbow, and then he squeezes slightly. "It's okay. I want you to call me. What is it?"

"It's the laundry." You blurt, and then freeze, eyes flicking down to see if Ry has woken up. "I broke the washer, and today is the day I do the baby's clothes, but I can't get it to work and... it hates me." He chuckles.

"It doesn't hate you, sweetheart. Let's take a look." This, he can do. Things with his hands, mechanical things, physical puzzles, easy. It's not the first time he'll have fixed an appliance, and it won't be the last.

He takes the machine apart as quickly as possible, pieces laid out exactly where he needs them, washers and screws and everything all accounted for. It's the belt, he discovers rapidly, an easily fixed problem with a new part.

"I'll have to run down the street quick," he tells you, drawing up to his full height and motioning towards the entryway, "but it's a quick fix." You nod, stepping out of the way, small smile on your lips. He promises he'll be right back, that he'll have it done in no time, and you pad along to the door, standing back as he pulls it wide.

"Simon..." you whisper, and he turns, "thank you."

"Of course."

True to his word, he's back before the hour. The low murmur of the TV echoes from the living room, and he gravitates there before returning to his task, driven to lay eyes on both of you, to make sure you're here, you're okay-

and the sight of it stops him in his tracks.

You're asleep on the couch, shirt pulled up and bra unhooked from it's strap. Orion is cradled against your chest, his tiny fingers curled in the flesh of your breast, mouth lax around your nipple. There's a dribble of milk sliding down his cheek, and the sight of it all makes Simon dizzy. He knew you nursed him, but seeing it for the first time fills him with something he's not sure how to reconcile, adding onto the heap of adoration and possession pounding in his heart. It's a different kind of puzzle, the same kind of barbaric instinct and need roaring in his blood, the one that tells him to tuck you away and never let you go.

He stares for a second longer, scratching this moment into his memory as much as he can before he realizes how tired you are. You do a good job of hiding it, smiling and buzzing about, but in the early afternoon light, he can see the exhaustion so clearly, and kicks himself for not noticing sooner.

When Ry starts to fuss, your brow furrows in your sleep, and Simon can't stop himself. "Shh, shhh." He soothes, pulling him free as gently as he can. You twitch, hands searching, and then your head snaps up in a panic, breaths stuttered. "It's okay. I got him, you just closed your eyes, is all. It's alright."

"Sorry." You croak, sitting up and fumbling with your top. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's okay, mama." He's on his knees in front of the couch, in front of you, and you stare down at him, mystified. "What does he usually do after he eats?"

"Uh... burp? And then he goes down to sleep." You yawn. "A change, if he needs it."

"Alright, 've got it, you go rest. After I put him down, I'll finish the washer."

"Oh, no... I can-"

"I've got him. Nothin' I can't handle." He shifts Orion, supporting his head as he props him up over his shoulder, rubbing his back slowly. He wants to do this, wants you to let him do this, wants you to trust him.

He needs it.

You hesitate. "Are you sure?"

"If I need anythin', I'll wake you." There's a burp cloth on the coffee table, and he places it under Ry's chin. "Huh, lad? If we need mama, we'll get her, right?" You soften, posture relaxing a bit, and then you nod.

"Alright, then."

[a-spes]

Hi I was rereading devious lies and I was thinking ab if nat and yn were to meet again and everything, yn would have the biggest trust issued ever. First her best friend took advantage of her and ruined her life, then the ones she considered family turned their backs on her without even letting her explain her side, and ofc how her lover shouted in her face that she's not welcome there anymore and how yn shouldn't even talk with her anymore ever. How the last time the team looked at her it was with anger and dissapointment That and also from the first part where she herself admitted to feeling like a stranger amongst her once friends and family.

Idk what you have in store for us for when you're feeling better and out of the writing block that you're currently experiencing, but I can't wait to read it. Take as long as you need, we're here!

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ₊ ⁺ ✦ 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 ₊ . 　 ˚　. ✧ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊ ˚

₊ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ 　˚　 . 　⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　　 . 　  ˚ ˚ 　. ☁ ˚ 　. ˚ 　 ✩ ₊ ˚ . ☾ ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧   　　˚ ⁺

˚　 . ⤳ DEVIOUS LIES — Bonus part, 'the scars in our hearts' (6.280 words).

⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧ ⤳ SUMMARY — Anon request — “ It has been years since the events, and when you eventually got the chance to go back with them, you thought everything would be the way it used to be. except it wasn't. three years, almost four, is a lot of time, and the people you used to know and the building you called your home do not feel the same anymore. Maybe you've been gone for too long to hope to find a place in their new life. ”

. ☁ ˚ ⤳ TAGS & WARNINGS — Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Avenger!Reader, Female!Reader, Other Avengers x Reader (brief mention of them). Bittersweet, (kind of) angst with comfort. Self-doubt, mental health issues, mention of bad coping mechanisms, toxic relations.

˚ . ⤳ MOODBOARD ⊱⋆⊰ MASTERLIST ⊱⋆⊰ TO SAY SOMETHING ✦ Part one. Part two. Part three. ⊱⋆⊰ the scars in our hearts.

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊

You’ve been told that you just needed a bit of time to adjust, because you come a long way, but they didn’t say how long ‘a bit of time’ was. So the months passed, they soon became years, and if you’ve still made no progress, you kept hoping. Every day, you repeat yourself that you only need ‘a bit more of time’ and that, soon, with just a little extra effort, everything will eventually be fine. 

Except that you’ve never been a patient person.

They made it sound easy. They made you believe that everything would go back to the way it used to be in weeks, and you’ve fallen for their sweet words because you were craving for them to be true. You have dreamed of that moment, and every day you’ve spent far from them was spent thinking about the day they would ask you to come back. It is a little fantasy you’ve been holding on to for the past few years, but the tears, hugs, and excuses you’ve spent hours to imagine never became a reality. No, you only got silent glances.

It has been almost three years since you came back, and it still wasn’t enough. Sometimes, you think about letting go of that dream of yours, the one that makes you believe that things could still get back to normal, even when nothing was —; but how could you do something like that? How could you possibly think about abandoning them again when they’ve been willing to give you a second chance? You weren’t ready yet to accept that the home you’ve been longing to return didn’t feel like it anymore, at least not without first trying your hardest to make things right. Thus you kept pushing yourself a bit more everyday, at the cost of your health — which seemed a very small price to pay in exchange for the feeling of being at home again.

Two years is not a lot of time in a human life but these years still felt like an eternity to you, and you’ve never been so aware of how long they have been as when you came back, realizing the gap that had opened up between you and the others. Your life has fallen apart that day, leaving you with such small pieces of yourself that you weren’t able to rebuild on your own —; but them? It is as if they’ve lost nothing. They’ve spent those two years building a life in which you’ve never existed, one that you are now supposed to find a place in. Every day is just a painful reminder of what you have lost, and will never get back despite your hopes. Your dream slipped away just when you touched it with your fingertips.

You have to accept that you are not a part of the system anymore, you are just the pebble that derails the machine, and that ruins everything —; but you should be used to it, shouldn’t you? To that feeling of shame and sorrow that your heart has been carrying for years, that feeling of failure and permanent disappointment.

Some nights, out of habit, you push the wrong door, and you find yourself in the room you used to share with Natasha. Once full of life, it had now become austere. Yet, there is something comforting about being in that room full of old memories, it is a bittersweet feeling that’s both like a heartbreak and a warm hug. You've never been much of a drinker, or at least you've always been careful enough not to get wasted. But you’ve made an exception tonight, because everything seemed to be too much, and you wouldn’t have survived the party if you hadn’t drowned everything in alcohol.

It is the way they kept laughing that got on your nerves, jealousy rising inside of you every time a new joke was told that you couldn’t understand “because you weren’t here” —; but Wanda wasn’t here either, and yet, she laughed along with them, why? Because she hasn’t lost her place with them, she is still a part of the family. They promised that they would tell their stories and explain their jokes later, because it was too long to do it now, but you were aware that it was just a lie to give you the impression that you weren’t on the sidelines.

It wasn’t very effective.

They spent the whole night telling stories that you couldn’t understand and sharing jokes you couldn’t laugh at, and while they remembered things that you didn’t have a chance to live by their side, giving you an overview of all the things you’ve missed, you were silently sitting on the couch, trying to ignore the knot in your throat. You didn’t even try to take part in the conversation —; what could you possibly have said anyway? You are not sure they would have wanted to hear about how miserable your life was when you were gone, how lonely and desperate you’ve been during these years. It would be an admission that you missed them, needed them.

Instead you kept your attention on the bottles of alcohol, at least they would never let you down —; that’s the advantage when the parties are organized by someone like Tony: you will never run out of booze. You were so uninvolved in what was going on around you, that you missed the worried glances that Natasha and Wanda shared, and they didn’t need to talk to understand each other, to know that they both had the same concerns.

Everyone does, but you’ve made it clear in your first few weeks back that you didn’t want their pity. There was no comfort in the way they looked at you and, quickly, their presence became too much. They were always there, never letting you completely alone despite the appearance and trying to meet your needs before you could even ask, pretending that they knew better than you do —; but they don’t. They have no idea of what you need, because how could they when you’re not even sure yourself?

The loneliness you’ve asked for isn’t more comforting, but at least it comes with familiar feelings, some that you’ve learned how to deal with the past few years. On the contrary, you still hadn’t gotten used to their presence, and you had no idea of how to deal with these contradictory feelings that were starting to grow inside of yourself. While a part of you wanted to lean in their embrace, the other rejected their overwhelming affection. A way of protecting yourself that won out, taking the form of uncontrolled anger and, after days of being yelled at and random objects being thrown at their faces, they’ve eventually got the hint that they should let you alone.

They’ve given up on you —; but that’s exactly what you wanted, isn’t it? 

You can’t be sure, but you are trying to convince yourself that it is better that way. You’re not worth the trouble, and they definitely can’t spend all their energy trying to save you when people are actually dying outside. You would be fine, you would get through it —; right? Because that’s what you’ve always done, and there is no reason that this time would be any different —; you are strong, with or without them by your side. You just need a little bit of time for your scars to heal and then, everything will be back the way it used to be. 

Except that, despite the appearances, those thoughts never really left your mind. Sometimes, you think about your return and what would have happened if they hadn’t found you that day —; maybe everything would have been easier. For you, sure, but also for them. You are not even sure they would have accepted your return if they had a choice —; you wouldn’t have. At least when you weren't there, there wasn't that constant tension that now reigned over the tower, one that followed you into every room you set foot in. 

So you’ve made a decision —; you would rebuild yourself without them. You would make a new name for yourself, a new life, even if it means leaving them behind. There is this growing will deep inside you, the one that feeds off your anger and jealousy, and it’s the one to get your revenge. You want them to suffer as much as you have, to realize what they’ve done, and regret every of their actions. You want them to crawl back at your feet, begging for your forgiveness because you are tired of being the only one to make efforts.

You have waited so long for them to say or do the right thing, but the moment has never come because they can’t possibly understand your situation, let alone knowing what you really need to get better —; how could they when you ignore it too? Nothing feels right anymore. You have tried a lot of things but nothing works. Your life is now like a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces refuse to fit together. There is no way to make things go back the way they were, you could only keep on pretending. 

And so you did, locking yourself into a routine. Each day you alternate between training, going on missions or attending meetings, leaving yourself little free time. This hectic schedule has the advantage of allowing you to avoid the presence of others and keeping you from thinking too much while making you more efficient —; it is perfect, isn’t it? It is, most of the time but, some days, the illusion falters, and the facade you’ve built shatters, revealing the truth you are trying to hide.

That’s how you found yourself stumbling into your old bedroom, the one that now smells of dust, desperate for some comfort and familiarity. You didn’t even make it to the bed, falling miserably asleep on the carpet —; you didn’t have the strength to get up when you tripped over your own feet, too drunk to take more than a few clumsy steps.

⊱ ★ ⊰

There is only one person in the team who is willing to give you the space you asked for without agreeing to give up on you yet —; and it is Natasha.

You may not notice it, but the woman has always been here for you since you came back to live with them. It must be said that her gestures are minute, almost imperceptible, but they always manage to draw a slight smile on your lips without you realizing it —; she was perfectly aware that if you knew it was from her, you would start hating on those little things that made your daily life at the tower a little sweeter.

She is the one who always accidentally cooks more food than she needed, making sure there was always a portion waiting for you in the fridge. She is the one who makes sure that your favorite cutlery is always clean. She is the one who buys your favorite flowers to put them in the common room’s vase and never lets them fester. She is the only one who has taken the time to make you feel at home with a bunch of details that are so insignificant that you’ve barely noticed them.

But at least it helped soothe the guilt her heart carried, because these actions are proof that she was fulfilling the promises she had made to you a long time ago, in the secrecy of the night, under a starry sky, whispered words that has been immediately blown away by the wind —; “I’ll always be there for you,” she had said. “Promise?” you’ve asked, your eyes full of hope. “Promise,” she had replied before your lips touched, sealing the contract.

One she broke years ago, when she dragged you out of the tower without letting you a chance to explain yourself. The woman is perfectly aware that flowers and some meals won’t be enough to earn your forgiveness, but she still made it her mission to look after you from afar —; because if she doesn’t, who would? You don’t let anyone get close to you, and the others haven’t looked any further, giving up at the first sign of trouble. She doesn’t blame you for not trusting her, or the other members of the team, she just wishes that you would accept at least one of their helping hands. 

But you’ve rejected everyone. 

Even Wanda, with whom you seemed, at one time, to be getting on well which had given the redhead hope. Those hopes had been shattered the day you violently pushed the witch away without any clear explanation, and the woman blames herself for that, for not knowing what to do in order to help you —; because she should know, right? That’s her role, the promise she had made years ago.

If she can’t, if no one can, what will you become?

You may be able to fool everyone, including yourself, into thinking that you are fine, but you won’t get her to fall for your little tricks. She knows the truth. She can see it in your fake smiles, she can read it in your tired eyes. She knows you by heart, she hasn’t forgotten those years spent by your side, and she has become a master at spotting your bad habits and the sublet signs that accompany them. 

So, tonight, she couldn't have possibly missed how firm your grip has been on the bottles of alcohol, nor how quiet you've been the whole time. But it is only when she saw the door to your old bedroom ajar that she understood the extent of your pain. You were hitting rock bottom, you would have never set foot in this room full of memories otherwise. She knew this because she, too, avoided it like the plague, and hadn’t dared return in it since that day, not even to empty it. For five years, it had remained the same.

The woman is willing to give you the space you asked for as long as you are taking care of yourself, it is the silent promise she made, but it is obvious that you have failed to do so lately as she has seen you slowly falling back into your old habits. The ones she thought you had left behind, the ones she had helped you to overcome years ago. She is ready to accept that you could build a life without her, it is a cost worth paying if it’s the one to your happiness, but you haven’t built anything lately. Nor have you been happy, and she couldn’t bear anymore the sight of you destroying yourself, again.

The redhead is tired of the situation. She is annoyed that everyone is playing your games by pretending that everything is fine because it only encourages you down this dangerous path, one that may cost your life one day. She is angry with anyone who takes the easy way out, because it is obvious that it is easier to act as if all that history belonged to the past rather than acknowledge their mistakes.

At first, she had agreed to play along, but it was only because she thought that it was what you needed and that, when you were ready, you would talk to them. Except that it has been a bit more than two years, almost three, since they brought you back, and you still haven’t told a word about it. The woman didn’t know how long she would be able to put up with your silence on this story and your obvious discomfort.

But it seems that the sight of you asleep on the dusty carpet of the room you once shared was the last straw for the woman who decided to step in. You are probably going to hate her tomorrow, but she doesn’t care —; she is not even sure you could possibly hate her more than you already do. She would rather know that you are safe, even if it means losing you a little more so she decides to call your name multiple times.

It is the sound of her voice who wakes you up. It doesn’t matter how deeply asleep you were because you can’t ignore her when she practically screams out your name, and you are inevitably roused from your slumber. When you opened your eyes, a growl escaping your lips to signal your displeasure, all you could see was a blurred figure with red hair that could only belong to one person. One you could recognize anywhere.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked, a mixture of annoyance and concern tinged her voice, but you weren’t aware enough of your surroundings to notice it. Maybe if your hand hadn’t been so heavy on the alcohol, then you would have noticed the tone of her voice.

‘I am sleeping, can’t you see?’ you grumbled, but as soon as the words escaped your mouth, the frustration was replaced by a laugh —; this question was stupid, you realize. Isn’t she supposed to be a trained spy, and one of the best, too? Then why couldn’t she see what was right in front of her? Something that obvious? 

Maybe she doesn’t know either because your question is followed by silence. Her only answer has been to sigh and pinch the bridge of her nose. It was going to be a long night, she already knew it, but wasn’t sure she had the energy to deal with that.

‘Come here,’ you said when the woman didn’t react. Your words were accompanied by the gesture of grabbing her arm in order to pull her toward you, the woman losing her balance because of the surprise. 

Since she had found you, you had never asked for her presence. On the contrary, you had rejected and hated her. At best, you would tolerate her presence, but only when your job didn’t give you a choice, and so this sudden change in your behavior disconcerted her, especially the laugh that escaped your lips when she fell on top of you —; it is a sound that she has never thought she would hear again. So pure, so sincere.

‘Get up,’ she coldly says, not amused at all by your little games. If circumstances had been different, she probably would have found your attitude endearing and stayed a little longer in your arms. Except there was nothing healthy about this sudden closeness after months of hatred, so the woman immediately got up, inviting — ordering — you to do the same —; the sooner she puts you to bed, the sooner she can get back to hers.

Tonight, she had no patience. The woman was exhausted, and frustrated —; you weren’t the only one to suffer from the situation. She knows that your clinging state is just an illusion, the result of the alcohol you’ve ingested, and that the very next day you’re going to hate her again. If she wanted nothing more than to believe everything would be okay now, and to find comfort in your arms, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not when she knew she would lose it all again at sunrise. This scene is only a chimera, a reminder of what she had lost several years earlier as the result of her own actions.

If anything happens tonight, you would both regret it. Nothing can come from the actions of two tipsy and exhausted people. Except that your mind wasn’t clear enough to realize it, and all you could think about in that moment was how you were craving for Natasha’s attention. You wanted her to wrap her arms around you and whisper that everything will be fine now, because she is here. You wanted her to promise to never let you down, again. Even if it is a lie. Even if, one day, she will abandon you again —; because that’s what they all do despite the promises, isn’t it? At that moment, you didn’t care about the lies, you just wanted something to hold onto, just an ounce of comfort.

‘I caaaaaan’t,’ you whined, but you didn’t even try to do so. When you stretch out your arms towards the redhead, she gets the hint that you’re expecting her to help you, which she does. The woman knows how stubborn you can be so she grabs your hands and pulls you on your feet, sighing.

Except that you seem to find the idea of testing the limits of her kindness particularly amusing because you make no effort to pull yourself upright, or to stand on your feet —; or maybe you were just that wasted. You’re barely standing when you fall forward, leaving no choice to the woman who has to catch you before you hit the ground.

‘Got you,’ you whispered, a grin on your face, when you felt her arms around your waist.

The thought of dropping you crossed her mind, but all she did was to playfully roll her eyes. The woman should be annoyed by the situation —; right? But how could she when you are so adorable? It has been a long time since she last saw such a peaceful expression on your face. Your eyes were half closed, you looked as if you were about to fall asleep in her arms, and there was a faint smile on your lips. You seemed so content, nestled in her arms with your cheek pressed against her chest, that she hardly dared to move, fearing to break this well-deserved moment of peace. For a moment, it was as if nothing had happened, and the sorrow on your face had dissipated, giving way to a childlike insouciance —; a sight that made her heart melt.

You are the one who broke the silence first.

‘I’ve missed you..,’ you whispered. A confession so unexpected that the woman is not sure if she had understood your words. When her eyes looked down, searching for yours, you hadn’t moved, your eyes still closed. It was almost as if you hadn’t spoken, and that the words had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination. 

‘Me too,’ she softly replied and, maybe, if you had opened your eyes at that moment, you would have noticed the tears that clouded hers — but you couldn’t do that, because you don’t want her to see the tears that you are trying to hold back, right? The one that would just run down your cheeks the moment you open your eyes. 

‘Please, stay with me tonight,’ you asked —; no, you begged. You’ve lifted your head until your eyes finally meet hers, both were shining with the tears that threatened to fall —; you are the first one to give in.

The mere thought of Natasha leaving you was enough to shatter your last ramparts. You have just regained her embrace, you don’t want to be forced to leave her now, not after so many years of hoping to regain the comfort you thought you had lost forever. You have been too stubborn to admit that you needed help, and so you’ve spent years pushing everyone away, thinking that you didn’t deserve their affection. It has been so long that you can’t even remember the last time someone held you this way, with such delicacy and care.

It gave you hope. The one that, maybe, for at least one night, things could be the way they used to be —; just tonight, or even just a few hours. You just want that moment to last a little longer, you don’t want to spend another night alone in your bed, in your cold and austere bedroom with a depressing atmosphere. You want more than that, you want a reason to stay, a reason to try again, and to get up tomorrow —; you want Natasha back. You want your old life back.

Except that the woman won’t give in. It is not that she doesn’t want to, on the contrary, she shares the same wishes that you, but her mind is clear, and she knows that nothing good would come out of it —; you can’t get back to what you used to have. You can’t change the past, nor can you pretend it doesn’t exist.

‘I can’t..,’ she softly replied after a second of silence that marked her hesitation, ‘you know that baby, we both,’ she added, the nickname naturally escaping her lips when she noticed that more tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. 

She wants to say yes, you can read it in her eyes, hear it in her silences —; then why doesn’t she say it? Why does she keep pushing you away when you are eventually ready for her to be back? Isn’t what she has wanted when she spent all those months begging you to accept her help? It is, but she didn’t want it that way, she didn’t want to take advantage of a moment of weakness on your part. She wanted to earn your forgiveness, to show you that you could trust her again, and if she had to work every day until she dies to achieve that goal, then she would do it. 

‘Why not?’ you immediately asked back, ‘you are here, and so am I, and- and our bed is waiting for us,’ you started rambling. You couldn’t speak clearly, the words racing through your head as you tried to convince her, but you knew it was a losing battle. You were so desperate that your hands clung tightly to the fabric of her shirt, as if it could be enough to stop her from leaving. ‘Please,’ you begged once more when she didn’t react. At this point, your voice was nothing more than a broken whisper, ‘just for tonight, we could pre~’ 

‘Pretend that nothing has happened?’ she softly asked, finishing your sentence, and all you could do was nodding. ‘But you know we can’t do that baby,’ she said, hating the way you were looking at her with so much hope, as if you thought that one night in her arms could ease all your problems —; but it can’t. It won’t. 

As she talks, one of her hands tucks a lock of your hair behind your ears. The touch is so gentle that you can resist, and lean into her embrace. The feeling of her hand caressing your head leaves too soon for your liking. 

‘Sometimes, I wish that we could,’ you replied, ‘that I could either forget everything, or go back in time to make everything right,’ you confided in her, sharing your thoughts with someone for the first time.

The words have barely crossed the barrier of your lips that you crumble, because you realize that this wish will never come true. You can no longer hold back your tears, you can only hide your face in the hollow of her neck, hoping she won’t see those. Only, each of your sobs shakes your body so violently that anyone could understand your state in one glance. The woman doesn’t know what to do so she cautiously wraps her arms around you and cradles your body in an attempt to sooth your sobs —; it’s the least she can do.

‘You’ve done nothing wrong, love, nothing was your fault,’ she whispered, and you can hear that her voice is feverish —; she, too, is holding back tears. She can’t bear to see you like this. ‘I am sorry, so sorry,’ she added while she rocks you slowly. Those words weren’t for tonight, and how she had to refuse your proposal, but they were for everything that has happened since that day. Those excuses were for all the things she has done or said since but, most importantly, for all the things she didn’t have the courage to do and the ones she couldn’t. 

⊱ ★ ⊰

The following morning, you’re woken up by Jarvis, his voice echoing through the room, terribly loud and impossible to ignore. A grunt escapes your lips, you were hoping for a few more hours of sleep —; or best, for an eternal slumber. The night before, like the rest of the team, you went to bed late, and the quantities of alcohol ingested are definitely not helping with your condition because you were the victim of a terrible headache. Only, it is impossible for you to ignore Jarvis’ voice. He has been calling your name over and over again for several minutes now, trying to get the attention you are trying to not give him —; but even with your hands covering your ears, his voice would pierces your eardrums.

‘You are not answering me, miss y/n,’ he stated the obvious, ‘do you want me to warn the others that you are sick? My sensors indicate tha~’

‘Please, Jarvis, shut up,’ you mumble, still managing to be polite despite the rising frustration, and you really hope it will be enough for him to leave you alone —; but anyone who knows the AI knows that these hopes are in vain. 

Nonetheless, you have to admit that he is right about one thing: you are not feeling so good —; but who would after attending one of Stark’s parties? He always says that if your head is not sore and your throat is not burning the next day, then you haven’t enjoyed yourself enough. Surely you have enjoyed enough to last a lifetime, although you are not naive enough to swear to never touch a bottle again in your life. Yet, you’ve thought of it for an instant, the lingering nausea making you regret your actions because it gave you the unpleasant feeling that you might throw up at any time.

God, you were weak. So weak that everything was feeling too much right now, even the faint sunlight making its way into your room —; it makes you want to bury yourself alive to avoid all these sensations, and to die. Except you can’t because you have a mission that is scheduled for today and, if you don’t show up soon, they will come looking for you, which is the last thing you want. You have spent weeks preparing for that, you definitely can’t let them down now, especially not because you are just too stupid to know your limits.

You have abandoned them once, you won’t make the same mistake a second time. They won’t be so forgiving this time, no one forgives someone who does the same mistake twice —; no one gives a second chance to traitors. It has been several years since you came back, but you still feel like you are on probation and you need to prove to them that they can count on you. You can sense their hesitation to trust you, even though they insist that everything is fine —; pretending that everything is the way it used to be. It is their new favorite game, but you hate it. Y

et, you don’t have much choice but to play by their rules.

‘Are you sure? Becaus~’ 

‘I said, shut. the. fuck. UP!’ you yelled, not giving him to finish his sentence, already reaching the limits of your patience, ‘what’s so difficult to understand in those two words?’ you growled in frustration, and you can’t help but throw a pillow at the walls. The gesture is useless because it doesn’t even manage to ease the tension you feel, nor does it convince Jarvis that he needs to stop talking because he starts lecturing you about your actions. 

Actually, the only way you have found to shut him up was to get up and join the others for breakfast. Fortunately, only Tony and Steve were there. They are the ones you are going on mission with today, and that’s what they were talking about before you entered the room.  Even though you would rather stay alone, talking about missions is something you can do with little effort because it is easy. You need your brain, but you can turn off your emotions. You do not have to worry about saying the wrong thing or how to avoid an uncomfortable silence. It is familiar, and comforting. It has been a while since you've been sitting at this table talking about something else —; when you are not talking about work, you stay silent. It seems that you have forgotten how to interact with them during those years. 

As they go through the details of the mission one last time, you are playing with your breakfast, not interested in the oat flakes floating in your milk, nor in their voices that forms a dull hum in the background, their words not even reaching your ears —; because you are thinking, your eyebrows furrowed with worry. Except that your state isn’t caused by the reasons they think it is, neither the alcohol nor the mission are in your mind, only a certain spy with whom you shared a moment last night. One you would rather forget because the simple thought of the thing you have said, and done, is enough to fill you with rage and embarrassment.

‘Hi to the moon, here the earth,’ Tony said, snapping his fingers in front of your face to get your attention, ‘were you even listening to us?’ he sighed, but you don’t notice any annoyance in his voice. Only a sickening worry that you can read in his eyes, a feeling that he doesn’t share and doesn’t hide very well. You hate it, when they look at you that way, as if you could break at any moment, as if they needed to be careful —; but you can take it. You can take everything, and you definitely do not need their permanent protection. 

‘No, sorry, I was lost in my thoughts,’ you admitted, giving him a smile that I hoped to be convincing enough to reassure him.

‘Do not worry, everything is going to be fine, okay? We will be here to make sure of that,’ Steve intervened, trying to reassure you about what he thought was the cause of your worries, but his tone didn’t feel comforting to you. If anything, it made you grit your teeth and clench your hand harder around your spoon, increasing your irritation. You don’t really know why, but Steve has been the hardest to get along with since you have come back, maybe it is because of his seemingly false sympathy. 

‘Thank you,’ you managed to mumble, even though you don’t really mean it —; it was still better than the snide comment that made its way in your mind. You even made the effort to smile, one that anyone could see as fake, but not Steve, because he never really pays attention to the others.

The words burn on the tip of your tongue, and you have to bite it to not shout out to him what you are really thinking. You want nothing more than to tell him that you are as capable as anyone around this table. You have proven yourself over the last few months, succeeding in every mission they have given you, what more do you need to do for them to have faith in your abilities again? Reach for the moon? Because you are ready to do it if that’s the price to pay. You are desperate enough to do anything they would ask. 

In reality, you are not worried at all about the upcoming mission because that is not a possibility. You don’t fail, ever, and if you need to give pieces of yourself and mind in order to complete a mission, then you are ready to do it without flinching. 

No, your thoughts were occupied by something else —; or someone else. Something that was more difficult to manage because there is no guide to follow. This person is Natasha, and the cause of your worries is the moment you shared last night because you have no explanation for what happened —; you thought she hated you, and that you hated her. Aren’t you both supposed to despise each other for the pain you’ve caused? Then why do some of you still yearn for her presence? Why didn’t she reject you and, instead, decided to take care of your mess? This even wasn’t meant to be. The redhead is the last person that should have witnessed you in such a vulnerable state, and yet she is the one you have sought attention from, the only one you needed last night —; and you hate that. You hate how your feelings are still the same even after so many years.

That is exactly why, the second the woman that is haunting your thoughts stepped in the room, you left it, pretending that you needed to get ready for the mission. There is no way that the way you walked out of the room, leaving your untouched breakfast behind you, didn’t bring questions to their minds but you were long gone before any of them could say something.

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊

˚ . ⤳ MOODBOARD ⊱⋆⊰ MASTERLIST ⊱⋆⊰ TO SAY SOMETHING ✦ Part one. Part two. Part three. ⊱⋆⊰ the scars in our hearts.

. ☁ ˚ ⤳ TAG LIST — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @escapereality4music, @fxckmiup, @gemz5, @jusnough, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

[clonerightsagenda]

May I ask what the 'no sex in space' rant is? Zero G sounds like fun :<

The space sex rant is my passion. Possibly because I have no emotional investment in the act so when it gets broken down into weird biology and mechanics by the cruel forces of physics, I find it kind of fascinating.

Sticking this below the cut because it will get long. My primary source is Packing for Mars by Mary Roach, but A City on Mars gets into the same issues. Yes, at least two books have entire chapters devoted to the space sex problem.

Note that this is all assuming microgravity. Many of the problems go away if you have artificial gravity, which we haven't cracked yet beyond building centrifuges. Your Star Trek fanfics are safe. So without further ado, and in no particular order, reasons why you probably shouldn't have sex in zero gravity and it probably wouldn't be that fun if you did:

The infamous 'no boners in space'. Since we're evolved to live in gravity, our bodies compensate for it by putting more effort into getting fluids above our heart. In microgravity, that's unnecessary, so you end up with fluid shift - more fluids, including blood, in the upper body. Your total blood volume also goes down. This would make an erection more difficult, and in fact most astronauts interviewed for whom this would be relevant claimed they didn't get any. The outlier here is Mike Mullane, but having read his memoir, he is the kind of guy who would lie about that. Now, as I touched on while despairingly liveblogging Barrayar, that does not prevent you from having a good time. However less blood flow would presumably mean less sensation in general for anyone below the belt. Or if you stimulated too much blood flow, with the lower total blood volume, perhaps that 'got dizzy because I got horny' joke will actually come true.

In microgravity, body heat and CO2 don't disperse the same way they do in regular atmosphere. Astronauts have to make sure they sleep in well-ventilated areas and are also trained on symptoms of CO2 poisoning. If multiple people are in an area exerting themselves, that buildup will happen faster and would need to be taken into account. It would be super embarrassing to suffocate crammed into a closet for some hanky panky.

The laws of motion are not your friend here. I've seen videos of astronauts pushing themselves across the room with a strand of hair. If you're trying to hold onto someone, you'd either want a relatively small space (maybe not a great idea, see point 2) or hold on really well. One astronaut Mary Roach interviewed suggested duct tape. Perhaps fuzzy handcuffs are critical here. Still you're going to need to put a lot of thought into every move you make.

Space is gross. :( Right now astronauts just wipe themselves down with clothes and dry shampoo. "Skin flakes" is a serious problem. Also we're still not entirely sure why, but astronauts develop awful body odor. According to Mary Roach again, while armpits are famous as a BO source, apparently the crotch is as well, it's just that those regions are typically further from our nose. So idk if anyone's going to want to get that close and personal with anyone else while they're up there. Then again I'm sure people have hooked up in grosser situations.

I'm probably forgetting some tidbits since I just woke up, but in summary, zero gravity sex would need to be carefully choreographed, require some equipment (fan, fasteners), and probably wouldn't even be as enjoyable as its Earthnorm counterpart. It's a good thing that's not what anyone's up there for.

[theminecraftbee]

task: answer the following question. do you believe in curses? respond as completely with relevant information as possible.

Grian: Well, that's a lie. This isn't a task. I know it's not a task, I set the things up! Not sure why we're getting a question as pointless as this one, but sure, mysterious scroll, I'll answer. There's no such thing as curses, unless you're Timmy, in which case it's funny, yeah? Besides, I didn't actually kill Etho. Even if that did count, self-fulfilling prophecies aren't the same thing as curses, and I know which one I fall under.

Joel: Do I believe in bloody curses what kind of question is that? Do I really get hearts just for answering this? This feels like a prank or something... well, whatever. There are no such thing as curses, except the Boogeyman curse, which I sort of had today, but it wasn't actually the same at all. A lot of the bloodlust, sure, but a lot more... Etho had to be the one to do it, huh? And it's not the same. Not comforting. That's a stupid thing to say actually. Take it out of wherever you're putting this. Cut it out of the recording. Comforting. Please. As if it were ever... Yeah, I'm done actually. Don't have a good answer. Go away.

Scott: What, other than Jimmy? Bless that man, he may not have died first, but he sure tried his best. Sure, I'll believe Jimmy is cursed. I mean, mostly he's just kind of stupid. Lovingly so. I mean, despite him being stupid, I put up with him, right? That seems like a complete answer to this question. Jimmy's an omen but we put up with him anyway. That's all.

Mumbo: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Pearl: Oh, I mean, I'm probably cursed. That's what everyone liked to say at one point. I think... I mean, I think this time I have good friends, which is nice. They don't think I'm cursed. And it's not like I--I mean, it's surprisingly fun, acting cursed! And I am just acting. Acting scary, blowing up dance floors, all of that. And I don't really have to this time, so... Maybe I'm not cursed? And since it's acting, it's not real? This is a weird question.

Etho: Oh, man, that's a question. Um, do I have to answer? Because I feel like if I say no, that's really just asking for it, but if I say yes, I have to explain myself. Uh, I think I'm abstaining, unless the zombie thing from earlier counts. That was scary and I hated it. Curses are scary and I hate them in general, but apparently I'm good at them, if you ask everyone else. Um, it's not the only thing I find scary that apparently I'm good at.

Scar: Why, of course I believe in curses! Look at poor, poor... Timbert? Timmy? Jim? Gosh, sorry, I'm very tired right now. That's more proof of curses, by the way! That I'm tired. I've been tired straight since the desert, let me tell you what. And that, my friends, is a curse like no other. What a terrible beast, loneliness is. Wish me luck breaking it, because it's not happening this season!

Cleo: Oh, you mean the thing people like to blame instead of their own actions? Nah. My soulbond was kind of a curse, I guess, but even that's at least half just... bad people. Bad relationships. Good ones, too. We're all just doing what you can, you know? No script, no curses, no characters, just... Oh, I hope everything turns out tomorrow. Sorry, that's unrelated. It's just nicer to hope than to preemptively blame things on curses that don't exist.

Impulse: Well, I mean, I didn't until you just asked me that, but now I feel like I should. Wouldn't that be nice? Being cursed instead of just sort of unlovable? Sorry, no, that's mean to Gem. I shouldn't say that about Gem, she's been good this season. Super, super cursed, mind you, in the like, game mechanic sense? But she's been good, no backstabbing or inability to get love involved. Um, and I guess that's not fair to Bdubs, kind of, except it also totally is and I haven't forgiven him. So I guess if they ask I said I believed in curses, and that's why my life keeps circling clocks? Don't put any of that other stuff down, I'm trying to work on that.

Lizzie: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

Gem: I was just cursed for a task, but that probably isn't what you're asking about, right? I'm new, so I don't know! A task is a concrete thing to believe in, like bloodshed or victory or fun and games. You don't have to believe in those to know they're real, either! They just are, whether you like it or not. I understand that much!

Tango: Gah, don't talk to me about... Deep breaths. Look, I don't care if it's a curse, or if it's just me being really bad, or what, I'm not going out pointlessly this time. Jimmy managed not to die first, I can manage to not go out to a stray arrow or my own bomb or a misstep this time, right? Is that so much to ask?

Skizz: Huh? Curses? I mean, I don't think so, and to be totally honest I think it's kind of mean the way people sometimes rag on people about them. Everyone's got so many good things about them! Why do people like to focus on the unfortunate luck, huh?

Bdubs: Hah! Curses! Let me tell you about curses. When I see curses, I eat them for breakfast. I don't got curses, I've got better things to do! I've got my buddies with the Mounders, and I've got-well, I'd say keeping Etho safe, but he's being weird at me again this season. Not that it matters. It never matters. Etho and I, we're... The point is, that doesn't matter anyway, because I have the Mounders, and they're the ones who matter here. And because I'm a strong, independent Bdubs, who doesn't need anyone but my bow and my perfect, flawless fighting prowess! Sorry, what was the question? I've been thinking so much lately that it's just sort of made everything else pop out of my head, so it's hard to keep track. I'm sure I answered it flawlessly, though.

Martyn: Of course there are curses. That's half the fun for you lot, isn't it? Putting your little curses on us and watching us rail against them. Bet you think it's real cute to ask us what we think of the things, too. "Oh, what do you think of curses," like we have any control over them. Please. If I had any control over curses, Jimmy--or, well, no, I guess that one was technically broken, wasn't it? Sure doesn't feel like it. Point is, curses are bad, and they're definitely real, and I hate you for them, got it?

BigB: Look, man, if you're trying to get me to write my character out for you, just say so! I won't tell anyone. We can come up with a hole thing about holes and red tasks and the Backrooms together! It'll be fun! After all, you probably don't know what kind of curse to say I have, right? Haha, just kidding. I have no idea what I'm talking about. Luckily, neither does anyone else, so I think that evens out between the lot of us.

Jimmy: NO RESPONSE GIVEN.

[o-craven-canto]

Filters in the way of technologically advanced life in the universe and how likely I think they are

1. Abiogenesis (4.4-3-8 billion years ago): Total mystery. The fact that it happened so quickly on Earth (possibly as soon as there was abundant liquid water) is a tiny bit of evidence for it being easy. Amino acids and polycyclic hydrocarbons are very common in space, but nucleotides aren't, and all hypothetic models I've seen require very specific conditions and a precise sequence of steps. (It would be funny if the dozen different mechanisms proposed for abiogenesis were all happening independently somewhere.)

2. Oxygenic photosynthesis (3.5 billion years ago) (to fuel abundant biomass, and provide oxygen or some other oxidizer for fast metabolism): Not so sure. Photosynthesis is just good business sense -- sunlight is right there -- and appeared several times among bacteria. But the specific type of ultra-energetic photosynthesis that cracks water and releases oxygen appeared only once, in Cyanobacteria. That required merging two different photosynthetic apparati in a rather complex way; and all later adoptions of oxygenic photosynthesis involved incorporating Cyanobacteria by endosymbiosis. For all that it's so useful, I don't know if I'd expect to see it on every living planet.

3. Eukaryotic cell (2.4 billion years ago?): Probably the narrowest bottleneck on the list. Segregated mitochondria with their own genes and a nucleus protecting the main genome are extremely useful both for energy production (decentralized control to maximize production without overloading) and for genetic storage (less DNA damage due to reactive metabolic waste). But there's a chicken-and-egg problem in which incorporating mitochondria to make energy requires an adjustable cytoskeleton, but that consumes so much energy it would require mitochondria already in place. Current models have found solutions that involve a very specific series of events. Or maybe not? Metabolic symbiosis, per se, is common, and there may have been other ways to gene-energy segregation. Besides, after the origin of eukaryotes, endosymbiosis occurred at least nine more times, and even some bacteria can incorporate smaller cells.

4. Sexual reproduction (by 1.2 billion years ago): Without meiotic sex (combining mutations from different lineages, decoupling useful traits from harmful ones, translating a gene in multiple way), the evolution of complex beings is going to be painfully slow. Bacteria already swap genes to an extent, and sexual recombination is bundled in with the origin of eukaryotes so I probably shouldn't count it separately (meiosis is just as energy-intensive as any other use of the cytoskeleton). Once you have recombination, life cycles with spores or gametes and sex differentiation probably follow almost inevitably.

5. Multicellularity (800 million years ago?): Quite common, actually. Happens all the time among eukaryotes, and once in a very limited form even among bacteria. Now we'd want complex organized bodies with geometry-defining genes, but even that happened thrice: in plants, fungi, and animals. As far as I know, various groups of yeasts are the only regressions to unicellularity.

6. Brains and sense organs (600 million years ago): Nerve cells arose either once or twice, depending on whether Ctenophora (comb-jellies) and Eumetazoa (all other animals except sponges) form a single clade or not. Some form of cellular sensing and communication is universal in life, though, so a tissue specialized for signal transmission is probably near inevitable once you have multicellular organisms whose lifestyle depends on moving and interacting with the environment. Sense organs that work at a distance are also needed, but image-forming eyes evolved in six phyla, so no danger there (and there's so many other potential forms of communication!). Just to be safe, you'll also want muscles and maybe mineralized skeletons on the list, but I don't think either is particularly problematic. An articulated skeleton is probably better than a rigid shell, but we still have multiple examples of that (polyplacophorans, brittle stars, arthropods, vertebrates).

7. Life on land (400 million years ago): (Adding this because air has a lot more oxygen to fuel brains than water (the most intelligent aquatic beings are air-breathers), and technology in water has the issue of fire.) You're going to need a waterproof integument, some kind of rigid support system, and kidneys to regulate water balance. Plenty of animal lineages moved on land: vertebrates, insects, millipedes, spiders, scorpions, multiple types of crabs, snails, earthworms, etc. Note that most of those are arthropods: this step seems to favor exoskeletons, which help a great deal in retaining water. Of course this depends on plants getting on land first, which on Earth happened only once, and required the invention of spores and cuticles. (Actually there are polar environments where all photosynthesis occurs in water, but they are recently settled and hardly the most productive.)

8. Human-like intelligence (a few million years ago?): There seems to a be a general trend in which the max intelligence attainable by animals on Earth has increased over time. There's quite a lot of animals today that approach or rival apes in intelligence: elephants, toothed cetaceans, various carnivorans, corvids, parrots, octopodes, and there's even intriguing data about jumping spiders. Birds seem to have developed neocortex-like brain structures independently. Of course humans got much farther, but the fact that even other human species are gone suggests that a planet is not big enough for more than one sophont, so the uniqueness of humans might not necessarily imply low probability. (We seem to exist about halfway through the habitability span of Earth land, FWIW.) The evolution of sociality should probably be lumped here: we'll want a species that can teach skills to its offspring and cooperate on tasks. But sociality is also a common and useful adaptation: many species on our list (octopodes are a glaring exception) are intensely social and care for their offspring. I mentioned above that the land-step favors exoskeletal beings, which in turns favors small size; but the size ranges of large land arthropods and very intelligent birds overlap, so that's not disqualifying.

9. Agriculture and urban civilization (11,000 years ago): Agriculture arrived quite late in the history of our species, but when it arrived -- i.e. at the end of the Wurm glaciation -- it arrived independently in four to eight different places around the world, in different biogeographic realms and climates, so I must assume that at least some climate regimes are great for it (glacial cycles are a minority of Earth's history; but did agriculture need to come after glaciations? Maybe a shock of seasonality did the trick). And once you have agriculture, complex urbanized societies follow most of the time, just a few millennia later. Even writing arose at least three times (Near East, China, and Mexico), and then spread quickly.

10. Scientific method and industrialization (300 years ago): We're getting too far from my expertise here, but whatever. The Eurasian Axial Age suggests that all civilizations with a certain degree of wealth, literacy, and interconnection will spawn a variety of philosophies. Philosophical schools that focus on material causes and effects like the Ionians or Charvaka have appeared sometimes, but often didn't win over more supernaturalist schools. Perhaps in pre-industrial times pure materialism isn't as useful! You may need to thread a needle between interconnected enough to exchange and combine ideas, and also decentralized enough that the intellectual elite can't quash heterodoxy. As for industrialization, that too happened only once, though that's another case in which the first achiever would snuff out any other. I hear Song China is a popular contender for alternative Industrial Revolutions (with coal-powered steelworks!); Imperial Rome and the Abbasid Caliphate are less convincing ones. For whatever reason, it didn't take until 18th century Britain.

11. Not dying randomly along the way: Mass extinctions killing off a majority of species happened over and over -- the Permian Great Dying, the Chicxulub impact, the early Oxygen Crisis -- but life has always rebounded fairly quickly and effectively. It's hard enough to sterilize an agar plate, let alone a planet. Disasters on this scale are also unlikely to happen in the lifespan of planet-bound civilizations, unless of course the civilizations are causing them. A civilization might still face catastrophic climate change, mega-pandemics, and nuclear war, not to mention lesser setbacks like culture-wide stagnation or collapse, and I couldn't begin to estimate how common, or ruinous, they would actually be.

****

I have no idea how common the origin of life is, but the vast majority of planets with life will only have bacterial mats and stromatolites. Of the tiny sliver that evolved complex cells, a good chunk will have their equivalents of plants and animals, most of which may have intelligent life at least on primate- or cetacean-level at some later point. At any given time, a tiny fraction of those will have agricultural civilizations, at an even tinier fraction of that will have post-industrial science and technology. Let's say maybe 1 planet with industrial technology out of 100 with agriculture, 100,000 with hominid-level intelligence, 10 million with animal-like organisms, 100 millions with complex cells, and 10 billions with life at all?

[dedalvs]

hey djp! did it ever bother you, while working on the languages for got and hotd, that the common tongue was just english, despite being completely divorced from the history and cultural context of real life english? love your work :)

Only where it actually gets into the details of the English language (this is a generic response). For example, there are a lot of American/British movies that take place in a different country but are done in English, because of the cast and the intended audience (e.g. Valkyrie and Amadeus come to mind). In Amadeus, Mozart's paramore gives him the nickname "Wolfy". That…is not German. I appreciate that they decided to do it all in English to make it easier on all concerned, but doing something like that, in my opinion, messes with the reality of the story. It's one thing if you're doing a gonzo story with reality-breaking mechanisms all over the place, but if you're simply pretending Hunt for Red October-style that you're hearing the story in the native language, then you shouldn't be making English-language-dependent puns, etc.

Something I've had to do a couple times for Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon is borrow English-language elements into dialogue simply because there's no real Common Tongue, and that I don't like, but there's not much of an alternative. Now, it does give the sense of the reality of it, in some way. For example, when I borrowed Blackwater Rush into Valyrian as Blakuāta Rasha, it absolutely breaks the reality, since it wouldn't actually be called "Blackwater Rush" in the Common Tongue (it would mean that, but it wouldn't sound like that), but at the very least when you hear the line, you get the sense that you're hearing Valyrian with an obviously foreign and borrowed word in the middle of it, which is appropriate. It's simply the case that the borrowed word is borrowed from the wrong language.

So, in an ideal world, yes, it would be different, but look at it this way. The more of this work that's done, the more languages are completed, and the bigger they get. If the prequel I worked on had gotten off the ground we would have had an Andalish language, which would, in fact, be the precursor to the Common Tongue, and if it had gotten beefed up enough, I actually could have created "Blackwater Rush" in that language and borrowed it into Valyrian in that line to keep the reality of it. It wasn't possible because the language wasn't created yet, but the languages aren't going anywhere, so who knows? Maybe some future adaptation decades from now will allow such a thing to happen.

[silent-stories]

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

Tw: fluff, sweet reunion

The airport was dimly lit, the departure board flickering as if it couldn’t quite decide which flights were leaving and which were delayed. Noah’s flight had been delayed for hours due to a mechanical issue, and the clock was ticking past 3am. But you didn’t mind. You stood at Gate 7, your heart racing with anticipation.

You couldn't leave with your boyfriend for this tour due to some commitments that you couldn't postpone and you missed him more and more every day. Not being woken up by a few kisses gently pressed against your lips and forehead, making just a cup of coffee in the morning, not hearing the sound of his laughter echoing through the walls of your house, not being able to play with his tattooed fingers while watching a movie and falling asleep against his chest, not cooking together with music in the background making a total mess in the kitchen had been like torture.

These were things that a video call couldn't replace.

Finally, the intercom crackled to life. “Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay. Flight 237 from Madrid is now arriving at Gate 7.”

Your breath caught as the sliding doors opened. There he was—Noah, obviously tired but still smiling at you, his brown eyes locking onto yours almost immediately.

A few strands of messy hair were sticking out of the hood of the dark sweatshirt he was wearing. You missed being able to run your fingers through his brown locks during his absence.

You dropped your bag on the floor and ran toward him, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck, almost causing him to lose his balance due to the sudden collision.

You knew someone would recognize Noah or you and take pictures without you seeing but you didn't even remotely care at that moment. They could post them on any social and show everyone how much you loved each other.

A low laugh left his lips as his arms wrapped around you, your head pressed against the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. Noah’s embrace was tight, as if he never wanted to let you go. “I missed you,” he whispered into your hair.

You looked up at him, “I missed you too,” you said, before taking his face in your hands and pushing him down to make your lips meet in a short but sweet kiss, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. “You have no idea.”

"It's really late. You shouldn't have waited for me here all these hours, love." He whispered.

"I'll always wait for you."

You stood there, lost in each other, oblivious to the other passengers bustling around you. The airport was a blur of noise and movement, but in this moment, it was just Noah and you.

“Come on,” Noah said, taking your hand in his, letting his fingers intertwine with yours like they were made to be that way. “Let’s get out of here.”

You walked through the sliding doors, the cool night air hitting your faces. The city lights twinkled in the distance, and Noah pulled you against him for a second time, with his arm around your shoulders, keeping you as close to him as possible.

"Let's go home." He gently smiled at you.

And so you left the airport behind, the delay forgotten, the tiredness irrelevant. You had each other, and that was all that mattered. As you drove away, Noah’s hand on your thigh, you knew that this reunion was worth every second of waiting.

You watched as the lights from the lit signs and street lamps reflected on his features. You placed your hand on his. Maybe you were going home or maybe you already were.

[txttletale]

Kind of a stretch to say that a person saying "it's possible for people to explore their gender and remain cis at the end of it" is the same as conversion therapy & exploratory conversion therapy.

It's not okay for people to compare trans women to TERFs & Christian missionaries for doing something whose mechanism is vaguely similar to those people (which is something I agree with) then I don't think it's okay for you to make an extrapolation which is similarly bad faith?

I don't think your stretch is as much of a social issue as trans women getting demonized at all (which is apparently something that I need to spell out, because you stretched "cis people shouldn't be misgendered" to "cis people getting misgendered is equally as much of a microaggression and act of hatred and bigotry as trans people getting misgendered") it's just that it's a stretch.

i literally cannot emphasize enough to you that it is not a stretch, that these are the exact things being said by conversion therapists! that sentence there, what you put in quotes, that could be straight from the mouth of any of the 1000-odd liberal transphobes staffing the guardian.

obviously, i'm not saying that the (presumably well-meaning) people saying this are necessarily conversion therapists or think conversion therapy is good. but it is literally not an exaggeration to say that it is exactly what conversion therapists say, and exactly what everyone who has ever tried to obstruct a trans person's transition has said, and also, i can't believe i have to reiterate this, what every part of society is screaming at every human being from the day they are born!

[tainbocuailnge]

my favourite metric for evaluating gacha games is the eizen scale. eizen is a character from the game tales of berseria who is essentially cursed to always lose the coinflip, which means that "can eizen play this game and not have a horrendous time" is a very easy way to determine how "generous" any given digital casino actually is and how robust its rng safety nets are. for purposes of the eizen scale this is how eizen's luck works:

1) eizen has the worst possible luck that statistics allow for. if he flips a coin a million times he will get tails a million times. if he has a 99.9% crit chance he will not crit. if resource gathering involves random drops he will always get the lowest possible amount of drops. he will roll the worst most useless possible result from the gacha every time. eizen's only path to obtaining anything useful in the game is through guarantees, handouts, and pity mechanics. going by his actual canon luck the game would crash repeatedly the moment he hits pity and then his account gets banned for suspicious activity before he gets to see the result but for purposes of the eizen scale we assume the game itself works properly.

2) eizen’s bad luck does not affect his friends’ luck, and he often relies on his friends to push through his bad luck. you can get caught in the fallout of eizen's bad luck if you throw your lot in with his (like going on a sea voyage with him and inevitably getting caught in a storm), but just having him around doesn’t keep you from getting heads on your own coin flip. this means ease of access to luckier friends’ resources is one of the metrics on the eizen scale. combined with point 1, if a game for example has a support unit system that shows you a random selection with no guarantee that at least one of those will be your friends, it's completely useless to him because it will only show him randos with trash units.

3) eizen’s bad luck does not affect the choices other people make. this means the game’s content release schedule will not contort itself into ridiculous patterns just to deny eizen the chance to obtain game resources, because its run by people who have other goals than making eizen specifically suck at their game.

some video games are fundamentally unplayable to eizen because the core gameplay premise is about performing and then working around feats of rng, like roguelikes for example, so a bad eizen score is not necessarily a bad game. but this man is the canary in the coalmine of exploitative monetisation, and if he can't play the game then maybe you shouldn't either

[vxmpjules]

You and Miguel get into an argument and You wanna do anything possible to not think about it.

Not a smut, a part is lightly suggestive not that much idk

You sighed as you already knew Miguel wasn't coming back anytime soon. He was gonna stay in the headquarters, swarming himself with work and putting more stress on his shoulders, just to not deal with the argument.

You knew him, his way of handling things, he ignored them, then he came back without talking about it and everything was back to normal. It was a simple cycle, you were used to it. But the endless nights you spent crying as he left you home alone, without no comfort, you were tired so you decided to take a different approach.

Miguel was at the headquarters, as you had your phone to your ear, talking to one of your girlfriends excitedly. "Call me when you get here" you chimed before hanging the phone up continuing putting your makeup on.

Finishing your makeup, you look at yourself in the mirror and you looked absolutely amazing. You and your girlfriends had planned to go to the club together, this being your coping mechanism for this argument with Miguel, you'd try your best to not think about him.

You already heard honking outside meaning the night had finally begun, applying some perfume before running outside the apartment you and Miguel owned. Locking it quickly and going down the stairs, exiting the building and getting in your girlfriends car

You got to the club and went to the bar to get some drinks. Talking to a random guy that had already bought you half of your drinks, it was pretty evident that the guy was flirting, but you went with it, anything to not think about Miguel. You felt your phone vibrating in your purse, turning it on to see Miguel calling you, which surprised you, maybe he was gonna apologize? Or stop with the stupid silent treatment and come home. But you decided that should just ignore him, like he does to you, so he could feel how you felt.

You turned off your phone and kept talking with the guy, ignoring the phone that was blowing up like crazy. Getting bored from the guy you excused yourself from him and went to floor, dancing to the song, before hearing your ringtone again. With a sigh you went to a corner and picked up.

"Hey, I saw that you've been calling me, I have no service at the club, sorry" you quickly explained with a bitter tone "Donde estás?" Miguel asked, completely ignoring the fact you just mentioned it a second ago, he didn't believe you until he listened closely to the background noise. "I can't hear you I'm kinda busy" you say hurriedly before hanging up on him as you rolled your eyes, the purpose of being here was to get him off your head, not for him to be the main thing on your thoughts right now.

You looked over at the dance floor, seeing your girlfriends calling you over to dance, you quickly rushed over since your favorite song was playing. You started dancing ignoring the phone as Miguel blew up your texts, another call came in, you answered thinking if you answered it he would stop.

"Look, i can't text you with a drink my hand, eh?" You say at the phone, your voice almost not being audible by the loud music. "Why are you at club?" Miguel questioned angrily, his fast breathing being noticible through the speaker. "Shouldn't have left me hanging after the argument Miguel." You retort with a snort, you couldn't with him, not right now.

"Now, I'm kinda busy." You remarked coldly at man before hanging up. Shoving the phone back in your purse, you kept dancing until a fairly attractive guy started dancing with you, you both being dangerously too close. If Miguel where to see this, this mere guy, a stranger with his beloved, he'd turn this guy into dust, right there.

Miguel quickly changed himself and got to the very same club you where at, no way was he gonna let you out there, mad at him and not afraid to do anything. He couldn't let someone else touch you, you were his, and only his.

He entered the club, to be greeted by the sight of you and that guy, being too close even for your own liking. Miguel scoffed at your actions making his way to you, pushing his way through the crowd of dancing strangers.

He finally got to you, shoving the guy away and placing his hands on your hips, as you hadn't notice that he was there.

You felt bigger hands on your hips as a breath left your lips as you felt Miguel's face in your neck. "Almost beat the guy to death" he said calmly in your neck as he caressed your hips slowly. Gradually sinking his fangs into your neck.

"Maybe this way people will know you're mine, mhm? That you have an owner" he whispered in your ear as he turned you over face him. He pulled your chin for you to look up at him, "You had me worried..." He sighed as he looked deep in your eyes with a frown. "I'm sorry for arguing earlier, I'll stop with how i treat you after our arguments, mhm?" He stated with a small smile before kissing you tenderly.

I'm cfyin this is so shit and i love ATSV smmmm give me some asks or sum idc anything

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: cookie cutter shark

There are some words that just shouldn't go together, like "edible radium", "reasonable conspiracy theorist", and "sandpaper underwear". Well here's a new one for you: "parasitic shark". The only problem is, that one is real. Yeah, this is one of those animals that's so bizarre it would be mocked as too silly if a fiction writer came up with it. Welcome back to Wet Beast Wednesday, where we discuss the cookie cutter shark.

(Image: a cookie cutter shark said on a patch of fabric. It is a small, brown shark with a darker collar region. Its fins are small and the head is blunt. It is widest around the middle. A pencil has been placed next to it for scale. End ID)

There are two known species of cookie cuter shark: Isistius brasiliensis and Isistius plutodus. The latter, common name: largetooth cookie cutter shark, is much rarer and less well known than the former, which will be the main topic of this post. The cookie cutter shark is a very small shark, measuring between 42 and 56 cm (16-22 in) in length as adults. They have multiple adaptations that set them apart from other sharks, even other members of the dogfish order. Their bodies are described as cigar-shaped, which is why another common name is cigar shark. The head is short and rounded and the mouth is large, with prominent teeth and large lips. The upper teeth are small and narrow while the lower teeth are larger and form a saw-like edge. Unlike other sharks, they do not replace one tooth at a time, but instead lose and replace the entire front lower row at once.

(Image: a closeup of the head of a preserved shark. The lips have been pulled back to expose the mouth showing the large, saw-like lower teeth and much smaller upper teeth. End ID).

Cookie cutters are among the few sharks that are strongly bioluminescent. Their underbellies and a collar around the neck area have luminescent cells called photophores. The cells on the belly mimic light from above, making it difficult for predators below to distinguish the shark from the surface of the ocean. The cells on the neck are believed to be used for attracting prey by mimicking a small fish. Cookie cutter sharks have large livers with a high oil content that helps them maintain buoyancy. While most fins are small (or in the case of the anal fin, missing), the tail fin is large and suited for sudden bursts of speed. Longtooth cookie cuter sharks are larger, with longer bottom teeth and smaller fins.

(Image: photos of the underside of a cookie cutter shark showing the bioluminescent photophores, which make the belly look blue. End ID)

The common name of the cookie cutter shark comes from its unique feeding mechanism. The sharks are deep-sea ambush predators that use their natural buoyancy to remain motionless in the water column while using their bioluminescence to attract prey. When prey approaches, the shark will dart forward and attach to the larger animal. Using its lips to form a seal, the shark can generate suction to make it very hard to remove. It then uses the upper teeth as an anchor to help the larger bottom teeth pierce the skin. Then , the shark spins around (the thrashing of its prey may help) to cut out a roughly circular plug of skin and muscle. The circular holes left behind are reminiscent of bits of cookie dough cut out by a cookie cutter, hence the name. The sharks will also eat small fish and squid whole and are known to scavenge carrion. They will sometimes school, possibly to help attract prey while discouraging predators. Just about any medium to large animal in the shark's territory is a possible target. Scars from cookie cutter shark feeding have been found on cetaceans (whales and dolphins), pinnipeds (seals and sea lions), other sharks, rays, and bony fish. Because the sharks feed off of other animals without killing them, they are considered parasites. Specifically, they are facultative ectoparasites, meaning they attach to the outside of their hosts and are not fully dependent on parasitism to survive.

(Image: a swordfish with multiple fresh bites from cookie cutter sharks. The bites look like pink pits dug into the swordfish's side. End ID)

Cookie cutter sharks are found worldwide in the mesopelagic zone (roughly 200 - 3000 ft deep), though they have been known to move to shallower water. They are found worldwide and seem to prefer the open ocean. Most sightings are around islands, but its not clear if they do congregate around islands or this is a case of sampling bias. Because of their remote habitats, little is known about their behavior in the wild. Likewise, we don't know much about their reproductive behavior, though like other dogfish, they are viviparous. The embryos are raised in two uteruses and there can be up to 12 of them. They likely have a very long gestation period.

(Image: a slender cookie cutter shark seen from the side)

Cookie cutter sharks are classified as least concern by the IUCN. There is no fishery for them and they are only caught as bycatch. People have been able to see the scars left by the sharks on their prey for a very long time and there were several hypotheses for what was leaving the scars, including lampreys and bacteria. In 1971, scientist Everett Jones was the one who discovered that the cigar sharks (as they were then known) were responsible. The name cookie cutter shark became popular after that. Human interaction with the sharks are rare, but multiple attacks have been recorded, most of them on swimmers trying to cross the channels in Hawai'i. There have also been reports of shipwrecked sailors being attacked and bodies have been recovered with signs of cookie cutter shark scavenging. Generally though, the sharks are not considered dangerous to humans due to their remote, deep-sea habitat. Back in the 1970s, US Navy submarines kept finding circular holes in the neoprene coating of their sonar domes, which let components leak out and impaired the subs' navigation abilities. Putting fiberglass over the domes solved the problem, but it wasn't realized until much later that the damage was caused by cookie cutter sharks mistaking the subs for prey and not an unknown weapon. This wasn't even the only time this happened. In the 1980s, it happened again with the robber coating for some electric equipment. If only we could all setback militaries as easily as this little shark.

(Image: a circular scar left on someone's calf by a cookie cutter shark bite. End ID)

[staytheword]

caramel popcorn

caramel popcorn — one shot [ general masterlist ]

this one shot (and this blog) are 18+ !! minors, please do not interact!!

• felix x female reader; changbin x female reader (not the focus).

• non idol au. friends with benefits. roommates (changbin and felix). pining. drinking. there's a party. explicit language. mention of slumps/depression. explicit sexual content. not beta read.

•  smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — slightly perv felix (he a simp). voyeurism. voice kink. masturbation (alone and together). mentions of a possible threesome. oral sex (f receiving). fingering. protected sex, cumplay if you squint.

• word count: 11.5k

You are Changbin's fuck buddy. You two are just friends, but you are still something. Felix shouldn't have a crush on you. He still does.

Felix comes home earlier than usual. 

Work is slow today, and he’s feeling out of it, so he just decides to close his computer and walk home. It’s not like he will be missed, and he can catch up on his hours during the rest of the week. For now, he can’t focus, feeling a little blue, unable to find the motivation to keep going. It’s not that he’s losing interest in what he does – it’s not specific to his job. He’s just been feeling disconnected with reality, like he’s too used to the things around him. Everything feels… automatic. Mechanical. 

He needs change. He needs something to snap him out of the redundancy, a hook to get caught upon, a thought to keep him up at night. 

You come into his life at the right time. 

He pushes the code on the handle to unlock the door, his tie already pulled loose around his collar, his hair ruffled by the wind of the subway. His briefcase hangs on his hand, feeling heavier than usual, and he opens the door with a slight shove, letting it close behind him. He takes off his shoes, throws his briefcase on the couch and starts to shrug off his jacket when he hears a noise coming from inside the apartment. 

Changbin isn’t usually home at this time of the day, either. Or is it one of his days off? Felix isn’t sure. Days have been merging into each other, each of them feeling exactly like the one before. His roommate and best friend has been trying to snap him out of it, dragging him to parties or other activities, attempting to reactivate his creativity, the spark in his eyes. Felix appreciates his effort – Changbin is a good friend, always has been. It’s not his fault Felix can’t make it out of the fog. It really isn’t. In fact, if Changbin wasn’t there, Felix is sure it would be much worse. He would truly come apart if it wasn’t for those movie and pizza nights, for Changbin singing in the shower, for their video game tournaments, for their trips to the gym twice a week. 

Felix slowly finishes taking off his jacket, listening intently. For a few seconds he doesn’t hear anything and wonders if he imagined it, but then there’s the definitive sound of a voice coming from the hallway. It sounds like Changbin, although it’s a little muffled. Felix moves quietly, takes a few steps inside the living room and towards the hallway, and is about to call his roommate’s name when he hears another voice. 

This one is definitely not Changbin, and is irrevocably a moan of pleasure. Felix stops in his tracks, feeling the blush rise to his cheeks. The voice moans again, Changbin’s name this time, and Felix does not know what to do. Changbin is clearly… busy. Should he leave? Should he make enough noise so that whoever is in there with Changbin hears him? 

Who is the girl in Changbin’s room?

Who are you?  

As always, Felix’s curiosity gets the best of him. 

He tiptoes around the corner of the hallway and takes a peek. The door to Changbin’s room is ajar. Where he’s standing, Felix can only see a little of it, a part of the bed, on which two naked bodies are moving together. He recognizes Changbin’s dark hair and muscular arm, which is pinning down someone’s hand on the mattress.

Felix doesn’t see you well. Hints of your hair, of your profile, of the shape of your neck and collarbone. Changbin hides you, which is a good thing – he wouldn’t dare look if he wasn’t. However, he can hear you clearly, breathing heavily, whimpering against Changbin’s mouth, moaning in his neck. He can hear the sound of Changbin’s thrusts into you, the skin smacking, the bed squeaking. 

Changbin is fucking you hard.

Felix definitely isn’t supposed to be seeing this. You haven’t heard him come in, because you are completely unbothered, fucking like there’s no one around to hear or see you. Felix’s cheeks are bright red, mouth parted in slight fascination, unable to look away although he really should. 

Of course he is aware that Changbin has a sex life, an active one at that. They are both open about it, never crass but always honest. So it’s not a surprise that Changbin is with someone, it’s just rare that he brings his guest to their shared apartment, and it’s certainly the first time Felix is walking in on him. He should definitely leave, come back in an hour or two, when Changbin’s hopefully done and there is no chance of being caught like a pervert. 

But there’s something so fascinating about you, and Felix can’t bring himself to move. It’s in the way you breathe, panting, slightly trembling. It’s in your voice, in your whispers and your pleas. Changbin growls in your ear, muttering things that Felix can’t quite catch, but it seems to be working because you dig your fingers in his arm and his hair. Felix can hear your words getting tangled. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Changbin says.

That Felix hears perfectly well, and the way you nod feverishly sends a rush of blood to his cock. His hand grabs his crotch and he realizes he’s hard. His fingers press his length, already uncomfortable in his pants, and Felix closes his eyes, shaking his head. What’s his problem? Getting a boner from watching his best friend fuck someone? True, he hasn’t gotten laid in a while now, but it’s no excuse. This is wrong. Isn’t it?

He turns away, pushes his back against the wall, closes his eyes.

“Fuck, Changbin, I’m – please –”

Your voice sounds so beautiful, so pleading, so raw. It rattles a little, lost between your unsteady breaths, and Felix can hear Changbin accelerate his thrusts. The bed slams against the wall as he pounds into you, and your words turn into whimpers. 

You keep repeating his name, ask him not to stop, and Felix is stroking his cock almost instinctively above his pants. He can’t stop listening, hypnotized. He just wants to take out his cock and jerk it off so he can come at the same time as you. At this point he’s not even being careful at being caught. He wants to hear you. 

Fuck, he should move.

Fuck, he should stop. 

Fuck, he can’t. 

Felix closes his eyes and lets your voice fill his ears. You inhale sharply, you breathe out a moan, you hiss words he can’t comprehend. As you come, Felix squeezes his cock, feeling it twitch under his hand, but he delights too much in the sound to think about his own pleasure. How do you sound so good? So lovely, so vulnerable, so strong? He could drown in the melody. 

The apartment falls quiet for a second. Felix breathes out discreetly as he hears whispers coming from the room, and then muffled chuckles. You say something to Changbin - his name, and something else. There’s the swishing sounds of sheets. Are you changing positions? Are you straddling Changbin, taking his cock deep inside of you again, or are you maybe taking him in your mouth? 

Felix blinks. What the fuck is he doing? He stares down at his crotch, and the fingers he has sprawled around his length. This isn’t right. He quickly removes his hand, shakes his head. He needs to go before you or Changbin find him listening in. 

Oh, but how lovely you sound. 

“Am I doing good, Binnie?” 

“You’re doing so good. You take my cock so well.”

“Fuck, that’s so deep…” 

Felix turns away and quietly walks back towards the door. He needs some air. He grabs his jacket, slips it back on, and heads outside.

The bitter spring air helps. Felix takes a long walk, hands buried in his pockets, his earphones blasting music. It’s loud enough to mute his thoughts and the memory of your voice. He’s sure he hasn’t met you before. He would remember that voice. Who are you, then? A coworker? The friend of a friend? Someone Changbin met on a dating app? He desperately wants to know. He might never will, and it will drive him crazy. He’ll just ask Changbin. He’ll find a way to get your name, at least. 

Felix stops by the grocery store on his way back home, buys a few things, and then heads back to the apartment building. By now you and Changbin must be done. You might have already left, even. He stops in front of the door, slides a hand through his blonde hair, reminds himself he needs to get a haircut, and enters the apartment. 

He freezes in the doorway, holding the door half open, and stares at you. 

You’re sitting on the couch, bundled up in one of Changbin’s hoodies, watching something on the television. Your hair is messy, your eyes bright, your legs covered by a blanket. You look up at him, a little surprised, but you quickly smile, a smile that takes up half of your face, that illuminates your traits, that almost blinds him.

Felix feels his legs tremble. You’re so beautiful. 

“Hi!” you say. “You must be Felix.” 

“Y-yeah…” he stammers, closing the door behind him. 

That’s when Changbin appears, coming in from the kitchen, carrying two beers. He’s wearing a t-shirt and gym shorts, his curls a tangled mess. 

“Hey, Lix. Home already?” 

Felix takes off his shoes and clears his throat. “Yeah, finished early.” 

“Good for you,” Changbin smiles, handing you one of the beers. He extends the other one towards Felix, who takes it. “Want to join us? We were going to play something. This is Y/N, by the way. We work together.” 

“Oh, right,” Felix nods as Changbin goes back to the kitchen, probably to get himself another beer. 

So he has heard about you. The new girl at Changbin’s workplace who he had his eye on. The situation was a bit tricky because Changbin is a manager and you are an employee, but Felix guesses you found a way to make it work, or you decided not to care. Felix remembers Changbin talking about you, the words he used. Sweet. Determined. Captivating. 

Watching you now, he understands what Changbin meant. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” you say. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“Same, actually,” Felix says, taking a sip from the beer. 

“Really? What did Changbin say about me?” 

Felix blushes a little, stuttering. “Oh. You know. That you were cute, that he liked you.” 

You let out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s sweet.” 

Felix smiles, feeling a little awkward. He can’t help but think about what he heard. Your voice breaking in pieces through your pleasure. Changbin’s hips slamming into yours. 

The way you’re looking at him now doesn’t help. There’s something in your eyes, like you want to say something, but you don’t. You have such a direct gaze, such a dazzling smile. You sounded so lovely moaning Changbin’s name, begging him to fuck you deeper. Felix clears his throat. 

“I’m gonna go change,” he says. “I’ll be right back.” 

“Okay.” 

He gives you one last nod and heads to the kitchen. Changbin is still there, checking something on his phone. He looks up at Felix. 

“You all right?” Changbin frowns. “You look a little pale.” 

“Just tired,” Felix explains, putting away the food he bought in the fridge. 

“Good you came home, then. Are you ok with Y/N being here? I can tell her to go if you want some quiet.” 

Felix shakes his head. “I don’t mind. She’s nice.” 

Changbin grins, twirling the can of beer in his hand. “She’s something else, Lix. I’ll tell you about it later.”

“I’m happy for you, mate.” 

They exchange a quick hug, and as Changbin goes back to the living room, his booming voice echoing through the apartment, Felix heads to his room. He closes the door behind him and lets out a long sigh. 

This can’t be complicated. You and Changbin are clearly a thing, so Felix cannot see you in that way. He slams his hand on his forehead, cursing himself. He shouldn’t have stayed to listen to you. He should’ve turned around the second he understood what the sounds you were making were. Now he can’t get your voice out of his head. And it doesn’t help that you are in his living room right now, looking this damn attractive. 

Felix takes off his clothes, slips on a t-shirt and grabs a pair of sweatpants. He hears you laugh from the living room. It sounds like you’re arguing about something, crying out Changbin’s name. It sounds nothing like earlier, but it still reminds him of it. 

His cock twitches, and Felix curses himself. Maybe if he relieves himself, it will help. It will take you off his mind and he can enjoy his night. He can take a few minutes to do that, no one will suspect it. Then he can take a shower and move on. Deciding it is his best option, Felix lays down on his bed, propped up on his pillows, and takes out his cock from his boxers. It is already getting hard again from the thought of you, and he tugs at it slowly, closing his eyes. Maybe he can even try not to think about you - but as his cock hardens, as his fingers slide around his girth, you’re all that is on his mind. 

What if it was his name you moaned? His cock that took you deep, that you begged to feel more of? Your voice in his ear, your moans in his neck? Felix swallows with difficulty, his tip leaking with pre-cum, already losing himself in his fantasy. Those eyes of yours as he would pound into you, hammering your warm, drenched cunt with all his might just so he can hear you louder and louder. Your moans becoming whimpers, your breath hitching in your throat, those lovely notes escaping your lips just for him. 

Just for him. 

He doesn’t even know you. But the thought of you crying out his name is enough to push him over the edge. Felix bucks his hips into the air, imagining it is you, bites his lip hard enough to draw blood so he doesn’t make a sound. Your voice echoes in the apartment as you laugh and complain to Changbin, and it is such a delightful sound Felix can’t help but come. His cock throbs in his hand, spurting whiteness, covering his stomach. 

He holds himself for minutes like that, trying to steady his breathing. Fuck. He hasn’t come this hard masturbating in a long time. And you did that to him. 

After a while, Felix stands up on shaky legs and heads towards the shower. He quickly washes, relieved at the feeling of the hot water on his body. Once he’s dressed again, ready to join you and Changbin in the living room, his mind actually feels clear. He was probably just horny. He hasn’t gotten laid in months and it shows. He ought to follow Changbin’s advice and find someone, even just for one night. 

“Welcome back,” Changbin tells him when he enters the room. 

Felix confidently sits next to you on the couch, grabbing the third controller to join the next game. The beer is good, the company is fun. He laughs, feels relaxed. You’re funny, not at all a sore loser, with a bright personality and a quick mind. 

Your hair smells good. 

You’re very tactile. 

Felix feels fine, even when you touch his arm, even when your thigh brushes his. It seems like he really just needed to jerk off. 

After playing for a while, you all start talking, exchanging anecdotes and having debates over silly things. He likes you and the way you think. You bond about your love for freshly washed sheets and caramel popcorn. 

When Felix feels his stomach rumble, he stretches on the couch.  “Are you guys hungry? I can make curry -” 

“Oh shit,” you say suddenly, eyes widening. “What time is it?” 

You reach out for your phone and let out a gasp.

“Shit, fuck! I’m so late. I’m supposed to get dinner with my brother…” 

You let out a laugh and glance at Felix. 

“Rain check?” 

Your eyes are the prettiest he has ever seen. Wide, full of light. Felix feels his heart stutter, nods nervously. You stand up in a hurry, and he realizes that all this time, you haven’t been wearing pants. The hoodie is big enough to fall to the middle of your thighs, but it still reveals your legs to him. Smooth skin. Thighs one could dig their fingers into. Felix feels his mouth water a little. 

Changbin is laughing. 

“She’s a mess,” he says affectionately, shaking his head. “I’d love some curry, though.” 

Felix blinks at his friend. “Right. On it.” 

You reappear a few seconds later, now wearing a pair of jeans, slipping a sweater over your head and putting on your shoes. 

“I’ll see you guys around! Thanks for the beer!” 

“Check the two sides of the road before you cross,” Changbin warns with a smirk. 

You pull your tongue at him and disappear through the door. The apartment falls silent. Felix glances at Changbin, who is shaking his head. 

“Didn’t I tell you, Lix? Something else.” 

Despite everything, Felix can’t help but smile. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing his friend happy, whatever his mood, whatever is in his heart. Changbin’s smile is always enough to soothe him, to push away any cloud, to clear his skies. 

The roommates stand up from the couch, gather the empty beers and head to the kitchen. Their apartment is not very big, because neither of them could afford a big place in this city, but it’s more than enough for them. They have been living together for years, and have known each other for much longer, so they know exactly how to make it work. The boundaries. The signs. Everything. 

Felix gets started on the food and Changbin puts on some music. 

“How did it happen, then?” he asks Changbin, who has started cutting carrots. “Spill it.” 

Changbin smirks, keeping his eyes on the carrots. “So. Last night, right? Both of us finished late. The last people in the office. We’re complaining about being tired, about not having time to do anything, to meet anyone.” 

Felix stirs the chicken broth in the pot, nodding his head.

“Completely out of the blue,” Changbin continues, “she tells me she hasn’t gotten laid in weeks. So I tell myself, this is too good of an opportunity, and I say to her I can help. As a friend would, you know. And just like that we’re fucking in the office.” 

Changbin chuckles, and Felix stares at him in awe, trying not to let the images swarm his mind. A part of him wants to ask for details. Where in the office? A desk, a wall? What were you wearing? He chases the thoughts away. 

“So are you, like… officially going out?” 

“Not really,” Changbin frowns. “Just friends. With benefits.” 

“Oh,” Felix says. 

“Neither of us want anything more. Nothing complicated. Like, she just texted me earlier today asking if I wanted to hang out.” 

Felix takes a sip of his beer and chuckles. “So you’re her booty call?” 

Changbin raises his palms. “And happy to be.” 

That simple, huh? Felix isn’t sure how he feels. He envies Changbin, but it’s not jealousy. He’s happy for his friend, that he could find someone he connects with, someone he can have fun with. Could he find that for himself? He doesn’t know. He’s never tried.

“I’m proud of you, Lix,” Changbin says suddenly.

Felix turns to him, a little surprised. 

Changbin shrugs, smiles affectionately. “The fact that you went home earlier because you didn’t feel too good. That’s progress. Not long ago you would’ve pushed through and buried it deep. It’s good.” 

Felix nods slowly. “Thanks, Bin.” 

Changbin circles the counter to put the cut carrots next to the pot, and squeezes Felix’s shoulder. 

“We’ll get through it. I’m here for you.” 

“I know, Bin. I know.”

Felix slams his finger on his phone, repeatedly pressing the screen for his alarm to stop. When his room falls silent again, Felix leans back into his bed, groaning against his pillow. It is cold today, so he draws his comforter all the way up to his eyes, trying to keep them open. He was having a good dream. He can’t remember it, but it was good. 

You were in it.

He rolls out of bed after a few minutes and takes a quick shower to finish waking up. He puts on a shirt, a pair of black pants, and a tie. Sometimes he wishes he could go into work in casual clothes, like Changbin, but the firm’s dress code keeps him from having to think too much about his outfits. He brushes his hair although it will be tangled again the second he steps outside, and slips on his rings. 

Dragging his feet to the kitchen, Felix is surprised to find you there. You’re not dressed, wearing an oversized t-shirt and pajama pants, neither of which are yours - and your hair sticks up behind your head. It shouldn’t be cute, but it is. 

“Morning,” you smile, sipping a glass of orange juice. 

“Already up?” Felix says, grabbing a banana from the fruit basket. 

He’s not used to seeing you in the morning like this although it is not the first time you spend the night. It only happens occasionally - sometimes you come over to the apartment, sometimes Changbin goes to yours. From what Felix gathers, the both of you don’t see each other that often, but still regularly enough that he has gotten used to your presence in the apartment. 

Your relationship with Changbin hasn’t changed. You are friends who, sometimes, have sex together. There are times you see each other without sleeping together, although it’s not the majority. Felix has luckily not walked in on you again, but he has given you space once or twice before, going to the movies or having a meal at a restaurant with coworkers while you were having fun. 

Felix feels himself getting out of his slump. He goes to parties, smiles less mechanically, opens himself more. Maybe he’s inspired by the way you are so unabashedly yourself, the way you laugh with your whole chest. He is fond of the conversations you two have sometimes, whether it be small talk or something deeper. 

When you are there, Felix can never stop looking at you. Whether you are snuggling up against Changbin on the couch watching a movie or telling a story as you prepare yourself some coffee, Felix can’t get enough of you. You’re fascinating to him, the way you move, the way you talk, the way you are. 

He’s given up long ago on ever being able to touch you, but at least he can watch you. He can see Changbin’s fingers grazing your skin, he can catch the lustful glances you sometimes give each other. He thinks about you when he jerks off, but he does it without hope. You’ve just become a fantasy. 

He can only think about you, about this arrangement between you and Changbin. There’s no confusion in his mind. He wants it too - but not with anyone else. He wants to fuck you. He wants you to text him so you can hang out. It can’t happen. He wants it too. 

He can’t have you. 

He has to make his peace with it. 

“I have to go into work early today,” you explain. 

Felix nods, grabbing the lunch he has prepared the previous night to put it in his bag. 

“Aren’t you eating something?” you ask him. 

“I always eat on the subway,” he says. “Old habit of mine. And then I grab coffee at work. It’s free there, so…”

“Oh, that’s nice,” you smile. “Maybe I should pester Changbin so he buys a machine for us. Sleeping with the boss should have its advantages, right?” 

Felix grins at the playful tone in your voice. “Are you coming to the party next Friday?” 

It’s something Felix and Changbin have decided to organize a few nights ago, inviting a few friends to hang out and drink a little too much. 

“I’ll be there,” you nod. 

“Great.” 

Felix closes his bag, ready to leave, although he’d like to stay with you. He always enjoys those moments of talking with you, however briefly. He really likes you. He’s definitely attracted to you. But he knows you’re not looking for anything. Besides, you already have Changbin, and for Felix, that simply means hands off, even if you guys are just friends. 

“I’ll head out. Have a good one,” he tells you, taking a second to look at you in the morning sunshine, your eyes on him, your lips looking plump and soft. 

“Wait,” you say in a breath, standing up from the stool to approach him.

Felix’s breath catches in his throat as you stop inches away from him, extending your hand towards him. You look breathtaking from up close, and Felix has to try and steady his heart. You smile, replacing the tie around his neck, making sure it is straight. Your hand lingers a little there, on his chest, and he swears he sees your eyes stop on his lips. 

“Better. Have a good day, Lix.” 

You kiss him on the cheek and he has to quickly walk away before you see him blush and smile like an idiot.

The music is loud, the conversations even more. It’s not so late yet, but people are already getting drunk and high, filling all the empty space of the apartment. There aren’t that many guests, but enough that Felix has lost you in the crowd for a while now. 

He hangs in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, drinking his third glass of Jeongin’s deadly punch. I just mixed a lot of things together, Jeongin said when Felix asked what exactly he put in there. I didn’t really know what I was doing. It’s excellent, although it’s much too sweet and will probably mess with a lot of stomachs. But it’s perfect for Felix’s sweet tooth, so he indulges a little. 

A girl called Ye-jun is standing next to him, telling him about her work, and while Felix finds that she talks a little too much, she’s still good company. She’s cute, wears a very low cut shirt and keeps batting her eyes at him. She’s into him, that much Felix can gather, and he’s been wondering for the past fifteen minutes if he should do something about it. It would be the ideal moment - a party, a busy apartment, a bit of alcohol. He could bring her into his room and finally get laid, if she is into it. Maybe it could take you off his mind. 

Because Felix has been trying to catch a glimpse of you for the better part of an hour. You’re at the party, he knows, because he saw you play beer-pong with Jisung just before he lost track of you. He hopes you’re having a good night. He wishes he could take a better look at the outfit you’re wearing, at the way you braided your hair. He put on his leather jacket that he knows you like but that he rarely wears. Did you notice? 

Felix really tried not to have too much of a crush on you, but it’s beyond him at this point. You have this way about you. You push him out of his comfort zone in the best ways.  He craves you. Your presence, your voice, your perfume. He’s also not very good at hiding his feelings, so he’s pretty sure Changbin has noticed. It doesn’t look like his friend minds it, but he didn’t ask. Changbin knows to let Felix come to him, but he also isn’t afraid of starting a conversation if Felix resists for too long. So Felix knows he will have to move his ass at some point. 

Ye-jun giggles as she starts talking about a friend of hers who is having a destination wedding, and Felix suggests they go into the living room, anxious to spot you. She follows him there and they find a spot near the couch, when he finds you sitting with Changbin. Your legs are thrown on his, Changbin’s arm pulling you close to him. You are making out, unashamedly. 

Felix loses track of what Ye-jun is telling him. He stares at your hand, resting on Changbin’s cheek, at your mouth, dancing with his friend’s. Changbin’s hand cups your ass, and you laugh against his lips, slapping his chest playfully. Changbin whispers something in your ear, and then kisses you again. 

Felix wonders how your lips feel. If your skin is warm. It weirdly doesn’t feel like intruding now, watching you with Changbin. Is it because he trusts his friend so completely, and now knows who you are? Both of you are his friends. You like each other, you have fun. Felix likes it for both of you. He doesn’t wish he were Changbin. He just wants to get a taste of you, too. The thought crosses his mind. Would Changbin agree? 

Hey, Bin. I think I really like Y/N. Would you mind sharing, just for one night?

That’s ridiculous. Changbin would never take him seriously. Would he? Felix shakes his head, bringing himself back to reality, to the party, to Ye-jun. He tears his eyes from you and Changbin, focuses on her. She has a cute nose. Long lashes. She wears lip-gloss. Does it taste like cherry, or maybe strawberries? He decides to find out. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks Ye-jun, who stops talking, looking shocked. 

Quickly, however, she smiles and nods. 

Felix leans in and kisses her, sliding an arm around her waist to pull her close. Strawberries, definitely, he realizes. He imagines it is you, although it is all wrong, although her lips are not yours, although her scent is not yours. He needs to get over his crush, and not make a fool out of himself. Find your own girl, he tells himself. 

Ye-jun is a good kisser, fortunately, and Felix lets his thoughts wander away. A part of him isn’t sure to bring her to his room if she allows it. There’s not much chemistry there - but does there need to be? Changbin would tell him to just have fun. He’ll try. For now, kissing his good. It keeps his body busy, and he can keep thinking about you.

The next day, Felix wakes up in an empty bed, but there’s still the smell of Ye-jun’s perfume in the air although she didn’t stay the night. He had a nice time with her, and he’s pretty sure that she did too. 

She’s just not you.

Felix hates himself for thinking that. Who knows, maybe you wouldn’t even be compatible in bed. Perhaps he’s not at all your type. Changbin is just your friend, but you are attracted to him and they look nothing alike. He just wishes he could hear you laugh and moan his name.

It’s already past noon, and Felix is hungry. He meets Changbin in the living room. His roommate has only been up for less than an hour, and the two of them prepare some instant ramen. They eat silently, hungover from the previous night. Eating helps, settles Felix’s stomach and washes away the worst of his headache. 

“Did you have a good time?” Changbin asks after a while, wearing a t-shirt that Felix got him for his previous birthday. “With Ye-jun?” 

Felix nods. “It was fine.” 

“Just fine?” Changbin repeats, arching an eyebrow. 

“I mean - no, it was… It was all right.” 

“I guess fine and all right is better than nothing.” 

Felix shakes his head. “She was really sweet. I guess I just… It wasn’t…” 

“Fun?” 

Felix’s shoulders drop. “Yeah.” 

Changbin nods thoughtfully, and Felix wonders if this would be the right time to talk about you. He doesn’t like not being open with his friend - they usually tell each other everything. Changbin tells him about you sometimes, how you have been feeling, what happened at work, even a few details about your sex life with him. A new position you tried, something he said to you thinking it would be attractive but ended up just being funny, and Felix is happy to listen. Not just because it’s you, but because he cares about both of you. 

“That’s why it’s nice to have sex with friends,” Changbin says. “Maybe you could try.” 

Felix sighs. “I don’t have that many friends, Bin. And even less I’d want to have sex with. I have you, I have…”

He stops himself and blushes. Changbin stares, visibly waiting. 

“I mean,” Felix mutters, “you get the point.” 

“Lix,” Changbin says in a soft voice. 

“Hm?” 

“You like Y/N, don’t you?” 

Felix keeps his eyes on his empty bowl of ramen, trying not to blush too hard, and wondering what the best thing to say is. Should he pretend he doesn’t? Should he be honest? He doesn’t want to fight with Changbin. He really doesn’t.

“Why would you say that?” he asks in a small voice.

Changbin shrugs. “Just a feeling. You guys get along great. And when she’s around, I don’t know… you look really relaxed.” 

Felix feels his chest tighten a little. This shouldn’t be that complicated.

“I mean… She’s really nice. Fun to be with. And she’s pretty, yeah. I like her, but…” The words escape his lips, not really a lie, not really the truth. “I’m not in love with her or anything.” 

Changbin gives him a small smile. “That’s not what I’m asking. Just, if you like her, tell me, yeah? She’s really just a friend to me. We don’t see each other any other way, so don’t hold back for my sake, please.”

A small silence follows, as Felix doesn’t know what to say. Changbin ruffles his hair.

“Just food for thought.”

A few days later, when Felix is home and Changbin is at work, he gets a text from you. 

Hey Lix! Are you busy rn? 

He takes a deep breath. 

No, what’s up? 

You explain that you’ve been kindly kicked out of your apartment by your roommate so she can enjoy some quality time with someone. You don’t really have anywhere to go, so you ask Felix if you can come and hang out at his place. Felix agrees - it’s not like he could really say no to you. 

You arrive half an hour later, dressed casually, holding two plastic bags worth of snacks. Felix chuckles when he sees you. 

“It’s just a way to say thanks,” you say, handing him the bags and removing your shoes. “You’re really helping me out here. I didn’t feel like walking around outside for hours, it’s getting cold.” 

“Of course,” Felix says. “I wasn’t doing anything, anyway. Just watching that stupid reality show.” 

You gasp excitedly. “Oh, is it the new episode? I haven’t seen it yet.” 

Felix rubs the back of his neck. “You want to watch it together? I don’t mind putting it back to the beginning.”

“Oh, really? Thanks, that sounds great!” 

Both of you sit down in front of the television with the snacks and you watch the episode. You sit apart on the couch, but the atmosphere feels laid-back. You exchange theories, snicker about the contestants, and Felix smiles so much his cheeks hurt a little. 

After two more episodes both of you are a little tipsy and sitting down on the floor, unable to focus on the screen. You sit next to him, so close that your shoulders are touching. Felix is trying not to think about how good you smell, how cute your voice sounds when a little roughened with the alcohol, how he’s come hard just an hour before to the thought of you sitting on his cock. 

You smile at him, turning to face him, your knees against your chest.

“Felix, don’t you have someone?” 

“No, I don’t,” he says with a frown.

“How about the girl from the party?” you ask. 

He chuckles, shaking his head. 

“That was just a hookup.” 

You nod, biting your lip. “But you’re so handsome. So funny. And kind. And you have those cute freckles. It doesn’t make sense to me that you don’t have someone.” 

Felix feels a little hot, and rubs his hand on the back of his neck. He doesn’t understand where all of this comes from - it might be the booze, but neither of you have been drinking a lot. You do not look drunk at all. You’ve never talked about relationships like this.

“I think… I’m just not in the mood for a relationship right now,” he answers eventually, taking the time to choose his words.

“I get that,” you nod. “You could find something casual. Like me and Bin.” 

“I… I guess I could.” 

“Fuck buddies are the best. It’s not complicated. You hang out, you have a good time, and you get laid.” 

“Hm,” he answers, feeling a little dizzy.

You look at him for a long time before you continue. “We could do it, if you want. I don’t think Changbin would mind.” 

“Hm.” He stops. “Wait, what?” 

He turns to stare at you, eyes wide. Did you really just say that? Or did he imagine it? What the fuck was in those beers? 

You giggle, hiding your face in your hands. “Sorry. I couldn’t help it. I just… I think you’re really cute.” 

Felix blushes fiercely, unable to look at you. “I… Where is this coming from?” He can’t help but ask. You smile softly, looking at him without a hint of shyness. He tries to find something in your eyes that would explain it, if you are playing a trick on him. 

“It’s just…” you play with your fingers nervously. “Changbin told me you thought I was pretty.” 

Felix feels a shiver go down his body. 

“I mean, that’s all he said,” you quickly add. “I really don’t know what you guys say about me, and that’s not my business, I respect that. And if it’s not true, then -” 

“It is,” Felix says. His voice is not as assured as he would like it to be, but he still says it, finding strength in your eyes, in your voice. “I think you’re really pretty.” 

You look up at him, smiling, your cheeks a little red. Felix can’t look away, and it seems like neither can you. Slowly, you lean forward, and put a hand against his cheek. Your skin is warm, like he imagined it would be.

“I lied,” you admit, biting your lip. 

“W-what?” Felix stutters. 

“I said I thought Changbin wouldn’t mind,” you explain. “But actually…”

Felix’s heart beats so fast in his chest he feels like it will burst out. He wants to lean against your hand. He doesn’t know what is happening. 

“I know he wouldn’t,” you continue, blushing more at every word you say, removing your hand. Felix wants to grab it and put it back. “Because I asked him. When he told me that you thought I was pretty, I said that I had a little crush on you. So Changbin asked me if I ever thought about having sex with you.” 

Felix can’t breathe.

Felix can’t think.

Your eyes are on him, your voice so close to him, your skin on his. 

“What did you answer?” he breathes. 

You smile. “I said yes.” 

Felix swallows. He can’t believe his ears. This can’t really be happening. Surely he is dreaming, surely he will wake up in an empty bed again. He expects it will happen any second. But time doesn’t stop, and he doesn’t wake up. You stay there, close to him. You bite your lip mischievously, resting your hands on your lap.  

"You heard us, didn't you? That day." 

"What?" Felix frowns.

"The day we met,” you explain. “When I went back to the living room after having sex with Changbin… I saw your briefcase on the couch. It hadn't been there an hour before." 

Fuck, Felix thinks. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

The briefcase. He had forgotten the briefcase. 

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. "I - I’m sorry -" 

"Don’t be sorry,” you say with a smile. “I don't mind.” 

Felix feels dizzy. Is he going to be sick? Should he run away? Why wouldn’t you mind? He was gross, he was wrong, he was -

“Did you like what you heard?"

His head shoots up, his eyes going straight into yours. You look composed although he can see your fingers tapping your thigh. Maybe you’re a little nervous, too. Your face doesn’t show it - just your pink cheeks, your long lashes, your lips still wet from your last sip of beer. Felix realizes there is no use in lying. In denying, either. He wants you to know the truth.

How crazy you make him. How he can’t stop thinking of you. 

He nods. “Y-yes.” 

Your eyes light up, and his heart tightens at the vision of your lips curving into a smile. Is this making you happy? 

“Tell me more,” you whisper.

Something snaps inside Felix’s chest. Fuck it, he thinks. It’s better you know. At least it won’t just linger inside of him. It will be out in the world. You can reject him. It will hurt, but it will be ok. He never expected he could ever have you, anyway. 

“I - I think about you all the time.” 

You bite your lip and it’s the most erotic thing Felix has ever seen. He feels his cock harden in his pants, and he pushes on it with the pillow on his lap. 

“Do you get hard thinking about it?” you ask.

“Yes,” he admits without an ounce of hesitation. 

“Do you fuck yourself thinking about fucking me?” 

Such lewd words coming out of your mouth, Felix wants to close his eyes and let each of them sink in. If you end up walking away, or even laughing about it, he’ll have their memory. Your voice dripping sweetness in his ear, warming him up, reminding him it’s all worth it. Reminding him his heart is anything but empty. 

“Yes,” he nods.

You close your eyes and he thinks, this is it. You’re going to stand up and leave. He has gone too far. But you will know. His craving. His longing. But the words that come out of your mouth are completely different.

“Felix, I’m so fucking wet right now.” 

A moan almost escapes Felix’s lips. Did he hear that correctly? Are you really sitting so close to him, telling him you’re wet, because of him? With those reddened cheeks of yours, your breath that slightly hitches between your lips. 

“What -” he stammers. “You - it’s - really?”

You nod, a soft hum escaping your lips, and Felix presses the pillow harder. His cock is so hard by now it hurts a little, but he doesn’t care. He’ll endure any kind of pain for you. 

“But we can’t - I don’t -” 

“I told you,” you say, looking at him with wide eyes. They’re a little humid, your voice almost a whisper. “Changbin doesn’t mind. In fact I’m pretty sure he’d love to join us.” 

“He - he would?” Felix asks. 

“Hm, hm. But I don’t want to pressure you.” 

Felix stops to think for a second. Here you are, all his fantasies come true, ready and willing to have sex with him. It doesn’t feel real, but it is. Felix wants it with all his heart, all his body - but a part of him is blocked. He can’t. 

“You really want to?” he says, his shoulders falling backwards. 

“Yes. Felix, I want you to fuck me.” 

Oh. His cock twitches and he feels terribly dizzy. He breathes out, trying to gather his thoughts, but they’re a complete mess, although something stays crystal clear. 

“I think… I think I need to talk to Changbin about it first.” 

You smile kindly. “That’s okay.” 

“It is?” he asks, arching an eyebrow. 

“Of course,” you nod. “You have a really precious friendship. I respect that you want to honor it.” 

Felix sighs, shaking his head, unable to take his eyes off you. Where the hell did you come from? It doesn’t really matter. You still made your way to him.

 “I like you a lot,” he says with a chuckle.

Your laugh echoes his. “Me too. I’ll wait, Felix, I don’t mind.” 

“Well…”

You look at him curiously. Felix isn’t sure it’s a good idea to suggest this to you, but he’s already hard and you are here. It’s like something has unlocked inside of him, and he doesn’t feel like there’s much to lose. 

“I mean, maybe we can… Not touch each other, but still have fun?” 

Your face lights up again and you smile playfully. “What do you have in mind?” 

Slowly, Felix removes the cushion he was holding, revealing his boner. You look down at the bulge, and he puts a hand around it. He hears you swallow, your eyes dark with lust, looking even more pretty.

“Fuck, I’ve been wondering what your cock looks like…” you whisper.

This is a dream. A fever dream. 

“You want to see it?” Felix suggests in a low voice. 

You nod almost timidly. “Yes, please.” 

He takes out his stiff cock from his jeans, his hands shaking. You bite your lip, sitting back down beside him, your eyes fixed on his length. Felix does not comprehend a single thing that is happening.  

“So big,” you say. “You would fill me whole, Lix… Would you fuck me hard?” 

“So hard,” he breathes. “I wouldn’t stop until you come around me.” 

“Fuck,” you chuckle, inhaling deeply as if to steady your breath. “I feel like I’m going insane just thinking about it.” 

“Me too,” Felix admits. 

You turn towards him a little, and he can see that your eyes keep moving from his face to his cock, and everytime he feels it throb. He is trying to resist stroking it, because you are here, looking at him, wanting him, and Felix can hardly believe it. 

“Touch yourself,” you whisper. 

“W-what?” 

“Touch yourself,” you repeat gently. “Show me how you do it.” 

He doesn’t need to be asked another time. It’s like his hand moves on its own. He wraps his fingers around his cock, starts to stroke it. You sigh softly, staring at it, mouth parted, cheeks red. Felix can’t believe what is happening to him. Are you really watching him jerk off right now? And clearly being turned on by it? 

“What do you think about, when you do that?” you ask, licking your lips, and they are so wet, so plump, Felix wants to kiss them, he wants to feel them on his skin, around his cock. 

Felix whimpers softly. “You. Your mouth. Y-your taste. But mostly…” 

“Yeah?” 

“Your voice. How you would sound. Your moans, your whispers.” 

You smile, your eyes falling into his for a few seconds. “You like my voice?” 

“It’s my favorite.” 

You giggle softly, looking up at him for a few seconds. He must look like a mess, with his eyes hazy with the alcohol and the lust. You don’t seem to mind. In fact, you can’t stop smiling. 

“You look so fucking hot right now, Lix.” 

He watches you as you unbutton your jeans, push them down a little, and slide a hand underneath your panties. His cock twitches in his hand, almost exploding on the spot. 

“W-what are you doing?” he asks in a slight panic.  

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it,” you mutter. “I just need - I just need some pressure…”  

You close your eyes, moving your fingers in your underwear. Felix imagines them pushing against your soaked folds, teasing your swollen clit, and his hand accelerates around his cock. He’s pretty sure he would die if he could touch you. Taste you. Swirl his tongue inside of you, make you call out his name in pleasure. 

“Fuck, yes, that feels so good…” you moan. 

“Look at me,” Felix breathes without thinking.

You do. Your eyes flutter open directly on him, as you rub yourself, as he jerks himself. It’s a sight he knows he will never forget. Your red cheeks, your messy hair, your lips raw from biting them. He can’t touch you, but he can watch you. 

He is close. So fucking close. 

“I’m gonna come,” you tell him in a whisper, and Felix can’t hold it any longer. 

His cock throbs in his hand, his cum escaping the tip and staining his t-shirt. You let out a loud moan as you watch, and Felix opens his eyes just in time to see your face contorted in pleasure just before your orgasm washes over you. Your body shakes, soft breaths escaping your lips, and he watches in awe.

It’s like witnessing art itself.  

You both stop, breathing heavily, not looking at each other. 

And then you do. 

You smile. Felix does, too. And then you start laughing. 

You lick your fingers clean and button up your jeans. “That was fun. But next time I don’t want to just watch. What do you think?” 

Felix grins.

“I couldn’t agree more."

“Changbin?” 

He looks up from his computer, hiding a yawn behind his hand. His hair is messy from sleep, curls sticking up, his black hoodie a familiar sight. “What’s up, Lix?”

“Can I talk to you?” 

Felix stares at his friend, his heart beating fast in his chest. He holds a mug of freshly made hot chocolate, and there must be something in his tone that indicates it’s not just a casual question, because Changbin nods almost solemnly. 

“Anytime. Sit down.” 

Changbin designates his bed, and Felix sits on it. It’s only half made, the pillows all over the place, the plushie Felix offered him forever ago sitting in a corner. 

“That’s for you,” Felix says, handing him the mug.

Changbin takes it with a thankful smile, arching an eyebrow at the gesture. He stays on his desk chair, turning it around so he faces him. His room is messy, as always, but always comforting. There’s music playing in the background, the smell of chocolate in the air. 

“So, hm…” Felix rubs his thighs nervously. “There’s, hm… It’s…” 

He had prepared what he was going to say, but now that he is here, he has forgotten everything. He pales a little, stammering, looking for his words. 

Changbin chuckles, turning the spoon inside the mug to keep mixing the milk. “Are you finally here to talk to me about Y/N?” 

Felix blushes. “Did she tell you what happened?” 

Changbin stops and frowns. “What? No.” 

“Oh,” Felix says faintly.

“What happened?” Changbin asks.

“Nothing!” 

Changbin smirks. “Did you guys fuck?” 

“What, no!” 

“It’d be fine, you know,” he shrugs. “She’s not my girlfriend or anything.” 

Felix raises his palms, taking a deep breath. “Slow down.” 

This is not how he imagined the conversation doing, although it is moving in the right direction. Felix chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Okay. Here goes. Me and Y/N… talked, and we told each other we are… well… interested in… more.” 

Changbin chuckles, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. “You mean fucking.” 

“Yes,” Felix blurts out. “I didn’t touch her, though. She told me you told her it would be fine, but I didn’t want to do anything without talking to you first. Directly.” 

“Lixie…” Changbin smiles fondly. “I appreciate it, I do. But it’s fine. I told you, she’s not my girlfriend, and she’s a really great person. I think you’d have fun together.” 

Felix’s shoulders drop. “You really don’t mind?” 

“No, why would I? We’re all friends, and she’s hot, and I totally get you. If this was the opposite situation, would you care if I was interested?” 

Felix stops for a second to think about it. Would he? If the roles were reversed, and you were his fuck buddy, would he be bothered by the idea of Changbin touching you as well? The answer suddenly seems obvious. No, he wouldn’t. Not Changbin. Just like he doesn’t mind that Changbin and you were a thing first - in fact, maybe it makes his whole thing even better. 

“No,” Felix answers. “Not at all.”

Changbin claps his hand. “There you have it. Although, I gotta tell you…” 

He hesitates, puts down his mug, and looks at Felix. 

“If it works out, you and her. Maybe one day I could join you? I can just watch. Or if it bothers you, we…” 

Felix grins. “It doesn’t bother me. That could be fun. I…” He blushes a little. “I’d love to watch the two of you, too.” 

Changbin’s laugh echoes through the room. “You like that too? I can’t believe we’ve been friends this long and didn’t know this about each other. We gotta talk about sex more, man.” 

Felix shakes his head with a smile, feeling much lighter. “Then there’s something I gotta tell you.” 

He tells Changbin about walking in on them and listening, and both friends burst out laughing. They keep talking until the late hours of the night, their voices breaking out, falling asleep in the living room, buried under blankets and pillows.

Changbin turns to you, smirking amusingly. 

“Well, here I go,” he states dramatically. “Going to see a movie. On my own.” 

Standing next to Felix, you wave at Changbin excitedly. “Have fun!” 

“Hope you enjoy it,” Felix adds with a nod.

Changbin shakes his head and gives you both a dark glare. “You kids be safe.” 

You snort. “Fuck off, Bin.” 

With a laugh, Changbin closes the door behind him, and Felix waits until he hears his footsteps going down the hallway before he turns to you. He feels a little nervous, because he knows exactly why you are here and why Changbin wanted to leave the both of you alone. It feels awkward. And yet it really doesn’t. 

You turn to him, looking gorgeous in your black lace top, your hair let down your shoulders, your eyes wide and shimmering in the dim light. Did you choose your clothes as carefully as him, stressing over every wild strand of hair on your head, applying what seemed like just the right amount of perfume? 

“Hi,” you say, and he can hear a hint of nervousness in your voice. 

“Hi,” he replies with a nervous laugh. “You, hm… You want a drink?” 

You nod, breathing out. “Yeah, good idea.” 

You both head towards the kitchen, not even bothering to open a light. The day is slowly fading, filling the room in a dark orange hue, so you see each other well without the crudeness of the neons. 

Felix opens a cupboard and takes out two glasses, turning to ask you what you’d like to drink, except you’re suddenly standing close to him, and he knows you are not, in fact, in the mood to waste any time. His heart twists and turns in his chest. 

“You look gorgeous,” he tells you, because he wanted to.

You smile. “You too.” 

You stare at his lips, brushing them with the tip of your fingers, tracing their curves. Felix shivers, his chest tight, his legs a little unsteady. Is this really happening? Is this really happening to him? 

“Felix,” you breathe. “Kiss me?” 

He gives a little nod, inhaling slowly. 

Just fall, Felix.

Let yourself fall. 

He kisses you, and your lips taste of heaven. They’re even softer than he imagined, asking to be devoured, and Felix deepens the kiss almost instantly, greedy for more. You moan against his mouth, putting your arms on his shoulders, one of your hands burying itself in his hair. Felix pushes you against the counter of the kitchen, pinning your body against his. He kisses you like you neither of you need air, like it’s his first and last time. 

His hands touch your waist, slide around your figure to your back, his fingers slipping underneath your shirt. Your skin feels soft as he explores it. You sigh as you part your mouth, letting him wrap his tongue around yours. It tastes of caramel and Felix thinks, for a second, he might be losing his mind. He loves caramel. He told you that, once. His cock is already hard, pushing against you, but you do not seem to mind it. In fact, you start to roll your hips a little, causing enticing friction that sends further shivers down Felix’s spine. 

“Felix,” you whisper as you gasp for air. “Tell me what you like.” 

“You,” he answers quickly, placing wet kisses down your jaw, all the way to your ear, which he bites gently. 

You let out a moan, and it’s music to his ears. “I mean - you know what I mean…” 

“I know what I said,” Felix says, his lips brushing your neck. “I just want you.” 

He’s pretty sure he sees you smile, but he is too focused on kissing every inch of your exposed skin to linger on it. You take one of his hands and place it around one of your tits, and Felix presses his fingers a little, drawing a whimper from your lips. He could stay like this for hours, just discovering your body, your weak spots, your voice going high and low, breathing, moaning, breaking. 

“Just don’t stop making noise,” he tells you in a breath, capturing your lips again. “Not ever. Your voice sounds so sweet.” 

“I can do that,” you say with a slight chuckle. 

His hands wander on your ass, giving it a squeeze, and then he brings you up to sit you on the counter. Removing your shirt, he buries his face in between your breasts, giving them licks and kisses. You breathe out, stroking his hair, pulling his shirt off his shoulders. Felix doesn’t even feel shy under your eyes, like he’s known you forever. Your body is amazing to him, your skin soft, your scent making him delirious. 

He can finally touch you, he can finally love you. 

You unbutton your jeans and Felix helps you take them off, lifting your butt off the counter, sliding them down onto the floor. He bends down to kiss your legs, something he’s wanted to do since the first day he met you. He’s never been able to forget the sight of you walking away wearing Changbin’s hoodie. He traces his tongue the length of your thigh, stopping close to your underwear, making you shiver.

“Lix…” you whisper. “Don’t tease me too much.” 

Unable to help himself, Felix smiles, tugging cheekily at your panties. “You want me to kiss you down there, angel?” 

You open your eyes, and they are hazy, filled with desire, making Felix’s head spin. He keeps himself steady, wanting to please you above anything else. 

“Please,” you nod. 

“So nicely asked,” he answers. “Let’s see how wet you are for me.” 

Felix spreads your legs slowly, feeling almost dizzy, leaning to push his lips against the fabric of your panties, just above your clit. He puts a gentle kiss there, feeling your wetness, which sends a rush of blood to his already aching cock. He resists touching himself there, because he knows that he’d come in seconds just on the taste of you. 

He pulls out his tongue, gives your panties a quick lick, and you shiver, letting out a soft moan. Your hand comes to rest in his hair.

“M-more, please,” you whimper, rolling your hips almost desperately. 

“Angel,” he breathes. “Tell me what you want. Use your voice.” 

“I want -” you swallow, looking at him. “I want you to eat me out. I want your lips between my legs, drinking me in.” 

“Fuck,” Felix gulps. “How could I say no?”

With trembling fingers, Felix removes your panties and takes a look at your soaked cunt. It is right there, spread and ready for him. He doesn’t stop and think, he just buries his face in you, slurping your juices, drawing his tongue all over your pussy. You buck your hips as he starts to make out with your cunt, his hands keeping your legs apart. Your head falls against the cupboards, your eyes closed, your fingers pulling slightly at his blonde locks. 

“Felix, fuck, keep - keep doing that…” 

Gently, Felix sucks in your clit, and moves his hand so his fingers tease your entrance. 

“Does this feel good?” 

You nod feverishly, and Felix can’t help but smile, his chin coated in you, completely drunk on the sound and taste of you. 

“It feels so fucking good,” you breathe out. “Give me your fingers, Lix, please…” 

He pushes two fingers inside your hole, moving them slowly and steadily, his mouth drinking in the rest of your pussy. Looking up for a second, he sees your eyes closed tightly, your breasts moving as you arch your back, your nipples pointed in pleasure. His cock throbs in his pants, almost hurting him, but he doesn’t care. 

With his fingers inside of you, he can feel you clenching, coming close to your climax. He doesn’t stop, kissing your pussy even more fervently, and you whimper. 

“Lix, I’m going to… You’re gonna - you’re gonna make me come.” 

“Let me hear you, angel,” he tells you before delving back into your cunt, accelerating his movements, swirling his tongue around your swollen clit. 

You come all at once, your body shaking against him, your walls sucking his fingers in. Felix grins, not stopping until you breathe out deeply, your body relaxing, your high slowly coming down. 

He removes his fingers and stands back up, his jeans uncomfortably tight, but he gently takes your face in his hands to kiss you. Your skin is sensitive, he can feel it - you shiver a little as he strokes your arm. You put your arms around him then, pulling him close, and Felix sighs. You’re so warm. 

“That was amazing, Felix,” you breathe in his ear. 

“I’m glad,” he answers, playing with a strand of your hair. 

“Now will you let me make you feel good?” you ask, leaning back to look into his eyes. 

He nods, taking in the sight of you, looking fucked out, your hair messy, your skin glowing with sweat. You undo the button of his jeans, put them down, and he helps you remove them. Once he’s naked like you, his cock springing free, you pull him back to you and wrap your fingers around his length.

Felix’s breath hitches, unaccustomed to the touch, and it feels so incredible to know it is you touching him, he knows he can’t last too long. He already has to focus not to blow as you stroke his cock slowly, smearing it in pre-cum, feeling the hardness. 

You kiss his neck, sending shivers down his spine, your breasts pushed against his chest, your nipples tickling his skin. 

“So hard,” you breathe. “Your cock feels so nice, Lix. I can’t wait to have it inside of me.” 

“Can I fuck you?” he groans, unable to wait any longer. 

“Any way you want.” 

He gives you a long, dark look, and gently removes your hand. He needs to have your voice right there against his ear, so close it becomes a part of him. So he slips on the condom he brought from the bathroom, guides his cock to your entrance, and enters you slowly. 

You gasp, but he buries himself inside of you easily, aided by your slickness. One of his hands grabs your waist, the other settles on the back of your neck. You feel like everything he dreamed of and more. 

“Fuck, that feels good,” you say in his ear, and he can hear your smile. 

“Can you say my name?” he asks a little shyly, starting to move his hips, fucking you slowly. 

You kiss his earlobe, brush your lips against his ear. “Felix.” 

He pounds into you, moaning loudly. 

“Felix,” you repeat. “Keep fucking me, please.” 

He thrusts his hips into you, again and again, as you repeat his name. Harder, Felix. Fuck me, Felix. Felix. Felix. Each time it becomes more and more of a whimper, turning into whispers, then into moans, and into whimpers again. He’s fucking you vigorously, unable to slow down, unable to stop, intoxicated, your voice leading him on, pushing him to the edge. 

“I’m close,” he grunts in your ear.

“Felix,” you breathe. “I want to see your cum.” 

“Want me to come on you, angel?” 

“P-please. Fuck, I’m gonna come again if you keep fucking me like that -” 

You come again, shuddering against him, and the clench of your walls brings him to his climax. Felix hurries to remove the condom, strokes his cock a few times and comes on your leg, spurting his seed there. You look down at the mess as he breathes out, completely exhausted but still in his high. His forehead falls against yours, and you kiss his cheeks, his lips, the bridge of his nose. 

It takes a minute or two for him to start moving, his body feeling both drained and revitalized. He looks at you, his eyes heavy, in awe of what has happened. Did he just fuck you on the kitchen counter and came on your leg? Is that him, dripping there? Is that you, smiling at him, your eyes glassy and your lips raw with kissing? 

He could come again just at the sight. 

He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, kisses you gently. You look back at him, your eyes sparkling.

“Watching was fun, but this is better, isn’t it?” you smile.  

Felix laughs. “Definitely.”

Changbin comes back home a few hours after, holding what looks like an empty take out coffee from the place around the corner. He closes the door slowly, taking a long look at the two of you. Felix gives him a wave, not removing his arm from around your shoulders. You do not move from where you are, huddled up next to him, your nose in the crook of his neck. Changbin seems to relax at finding you just cuddling on the couch in front of the television although he texted Felix ten minutes before to make sure it was “safe” to come home.

“Hey, kids,” he says with a knowing smirk, removing his shoes. 

Felix rolls his eyes but he can’t stop smiling. “Hey, Bin.” 

“How was the movie?” you ask him. 

“Not too bad,” Changbin shrugs. “But it had a horrible ending.”

“Ugh, I hate those,” you say, wrinkling your nose. 

Changbin walks over to the both of you, ruffling Felix’s hair on the way, and sits on the other section of the couch, giving both of you a long look. Felix blushes a little, but he feels too calm and content to be bothered. 

“So…” Changbin starts. “Did you… have fun?” 

You start laughing and the noise makes Felix’s chest vibrate. He grins at the sound, at the sensation, and Changbin chuckles. 

“Got my answer,” he states. “I won’t ask about it too much, but just give me one detail. For curiosity’s sake.” 

Felix exchanges a long look with you, and you smirk. You glance at Changbin, your hand resting on Felix’s stomach, under his shirt. You are caressing his skin with your thumb. 

“Kitchen,” you say.

Changbin scoffs. “I hope you cleaned up after yourselves, then. If my eggs taste weird tomorrow I’m blaming you.”

“You can blame the old pint of milk you still haven’t thrown away,” Felix points out.

“Oi. I let you guys get laid, you could throw it away for me.” 

“What does this have to do with an old pint of milk?” 

“Everything,” Changbin states. 

You sigh. “Oh my God, I will throw it away if you guys don’t shut it. It’s my favorite part.” 

Felix and Changbin exchange a look and giggle silently. There are a few seconds of silence where the three of you look at the movie on the television. You are mouthing the lines of dialogue and Changbin is smiling affectionately at you. Felix is not really paying any attention to the movie - he is focusing on you, your weight on him, your smell mixing with yours. It feels even better to have Changbin close. All his favorite people here. He does not feel empty. He does not feel cold.

“Should I leave?” Changbin asks after a while.

Felix gets where he comes from. It’s not bitter, it’s not disappointed. It’s careful. He’s testing the waters, making sure he’s not invading your space - but Felix quickly shakes his head. 

“No reason for you to,” he answers. 

You frown and turn to Changbin. “Stay, Bin.” 

You extend a hand and Changbin takes it with a smile, shuffling closer. 

“Want some caramel popcorn?” you offer, handing him the half full bowl of the popcorn you made earlier. 

Changbin scrunches his nose, leaning against your shoulder. “Hell, no. Only you two like that stuff.” 

Felix looks down at you. You are already looking at him with a smile.

• author’s note: Caramel popcorn is the best I've been craving it for days!! First time in my life I disagree with Seo Changbin!!!!!! Anyway. Did I ever tell you how much I adore Changlix? I need to write about them more. A lot more. So this is a little thing. I hope you guys enjoyed it ♡ My next fic will be a series, I hope to announce it soon!

• permanent taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @tanyas97 ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ; @oxviolentheartxo (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

[yanderes-galore]

@montygatorshusband said: "My idea was Yandere Glamrock Freddy who gets really attached to a mechanic (reader). Since Freddy had his whole thing with Bonnie, and Bonnie got destroyed, he becomes obsessed with keeping the reader safe. So, Freddy stalks them through their Fazwatch (Which he disguised as an innocent gift). He gets really anxious whenever the reader takes off the watch or even the reader getting a small paper cut. So, Freddy decides to kidnap the reader so they can always be right next to him. In fact, whenever he has to leave, he puts the reader in his chest cavity so they can be *really*be together forever and ever."

A/N: Sure! I love writing Mechanic darlings when it comes to FNAF stories :)

Yandere! Glamrock Freddy with Mechanic! Darling

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Grief/Trauma, Fear of loss, Stalking, Paranoia, Overprotective, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Delusional behavior, Major character death, Forced companionship.

Honestly I've always thought Glamrock Freddy is naturally overprotective of you as a yandere.

However I've never considered the loss of Glamrock Bonnie being the reason behind it.

I really like the idea, actually.

After all, Freddy was very close with Bonnie based on his voicelines.

I personally see them as close friends but either way you can tell they were close.

The fact Freddy lost him would have definitely affected him to the point he's scared to share that same connection with anyone else.

It's unknown what truly happened to Bonnie and Freddy would be scared you'd get hurt.

The Pizzaplex has its own dangers and anything can happen.

Bonnie was an animatronic, you're a human mechanic.

You are even more in danger in Freddy's eyes.

Freddy is the naturally friendly type.

Every human, STAFF or child, is usually met with a friendly greeting.

Freddy would get attached to you rather fast, especially as a mechanic.

You help him get ready for shows and often check him over for damage or corrupted upgrades.

He feels you care for him... so he cares for you too.

Which brings up previous feelings about Bonnie.

Along with an overwhelming fear of losing you like the rabbit.

Freddy would definitely slip you a Fazwatch as a gift.

He's so kind to you and plays it off like a small gift for your bond.

Why are you refusing? This is on him!

Even if you say no he'll clip it to your wrist with a smile.

The Fazwatch allows him to communicate with you and allows him to find your position.

It's a gift, yes, but it also doubles as a way to calm his own worries.

For the most part you tolerate his little gift and keep it on during work hours.

Freddy would definitely panic a bit when you take off the watch.

Even when you work on other animatronics you can feel the watch vibrate as Freddy tries to contact you.

He watches your location like a hawk and is never too far from you.

Even if you take it off before you leave or to not get it messy, Freddy frantically rants about it to you.

You have no idea why he's so worried?

Freddy has shown he's capable to determine when a human isn't feeling well.

He would also be very attentive to when you were hurt.

Even if it's as small as a paper cut he asks what happened.

After that he's dragging you to a first-aid station to have you patched up.

The potential dangers of the Pizzaplex are something he thinks of a lot.

With mechanic work you could get shocked, lose a limb, be gutted...

Oh he hates thinking of that.

Reminds him too much of Bonnie.

His worry may indeed take over to the point he feels you shouldn't go home anymore.

It would take a long while but maybe Freddy feels he can keep you safe here.

He's delusional enough to think you'd be happy in his room, all safe and looked after by him.

In terms of the chest cavity thing I feel it would be a hard fit for an adult.

However, if he can manage it, he'd definitely use his chest cavity to carry you around with him at all times.

For the most part he keeps you in his room and out of sight.

Maybe even gags you to prevent you from screaming....

He hates the idea of restraints or gags but... anything to keep you safe.

Then when there's a performance needing to be done, you'll come along!

If he can fit you, that is.

Maybe he'll even find a way to make it soundproof!

He thinks he's making you happy and doesn't see how wrong his actions are.

Freddy just doesn't want to lose you like a certain bunny...

Could you really blame him for being so afraid?

"I'm keeping you safe, aren't I?"