#and wear layers everywhere when i do have to be outside

[07170]

ocd is so annoying can we allcjust like lay in the sun or something im tiredddd.

[estellan0vella]

A Little More Yours: L.F Lee Felix x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 11.1K

CW: Menace Minho, Simp Felix, Mentions of blood & a head injury, reader is a menace to chan General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part II

The library is quieter than usual for a Thursday afternoon, the thick layer of snow outside insulating the world with an almost eerie stillness. You sit hunched over one of the large wooden tables, textbooks, notebooks, and loose sheets of paper sprawled in front of you like a chaotic map of your current assignment. Your hair's piled up into a messy bun, pens precariously tucked into it to keep it in place because heaven knows you don't have time to find an actual hair tie.

The buzzing of your phone vibrates against the wood of the table, loud enough that a couple of nearby students glance over in mild annoyance. You glance at the screen and sigh when you see Chan flashing across it. Of course. You already know what this is about.

Swiping the screen, you hold the phone up to your ear, bracing for the chaos on the other end.

"Y/N!" Chan's voice is frantic, slightly breathless. "We need you."

You sit back in your chair, rubbing your temple. "What now? You sound like someone died."

"Jisung's dumb ass fell out of bed and cracked his head open on the corner of the bedside table."

A laugh escapes you before you can stop it. "He what?!"

Chan groans. "Yeah, I know. It's stupid. But he's bleeding everywhere, and I don't know how bad it is. Can you-"

"I'm on my way," you cut him off, already gathering your things. "Gimme ten minutes. I'm at the library."

"Good. Just hurry the fuck up." Chan's voice softens slightly before he hangs up. "Thanks, Y/N."

You sigh, pulling your scarf tighter around your neck and grabbing the pile of textbooks and notebooks. You didn't bring a backpack today, another brilliant decision on your part, so now you're balancing everything in your arms like the leaning tower of Pisa. You slip your earmuffs over your head, muttering under your breath, and push through the double doors of the library.

The blast of cold air hits you like a wall as soon as you step outside. Snowflakes swirl around you in the dim afternoon light, sticking to the exposed skin of your stomach and thighs. Because, of course, you decided today of all days was the perfect time to wear a crop top. A crop top with underboob no less. At least you had the decency to wear thigh-high boots and a scarf, but the outfit is not snowstorm-friendly.

The Alpha Phi frat house isn't too far from the library, but it feels like a goddamn trek in this weather. By the time you get there, your fingers are stiff from the cold, and the snow has started to soak through your skirt.

The front door swings open before you can even knock, and Chan stands there, eyes immediately narrowing as he takes in your appearance.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he growls, yanking the stack of books out of your arms. "Why the fuck don't you have a coat? And why the fuck are you wearing a crop top that shows underboob in the middle of a goddamn snowstorm? Do you want to freeze your tits off, Y/N?"

You roll your eyes and adjust your scarf. "I didn't have a coat that went with my outfit, and this top is cute, okay?"

"You're stupid."

"Love you too," you shoot back, brushing past him into the warmth of the frat house. "Where's Jisung?"

Chan motions toward the living room, following close behind. "He's in there. Holding a blood-soaked towel to his head like an idiot."

You take a moment to kick off the snow from your boots before walking into the living room. Sure enough, Jisung is sprawled out on the couch, a towel pressed against the back of his head, his face scrunched up in discomfort.

"If I get blood on my clothes..." you warn, pulling your scarf and earmuffs off.

"I'll buy you new ones," Chan interrupts, already heading upstairs to grab the first aid kit you've stashed in his room for situations exactly like this.

"Appreciate it," you mutter, dropping to your knees next to Jisung. "Alright, Ji, let's see what we're dealing with."

Jisung whines dramatically as you carefully pull the towel away from his head, his eyes fluttering shut. "Fuck, this hurts. Why did I fall out of bed today?"

"Because you're a dumbass," you tease lightly, but there's genuine concern in your tone as you check the cut on the back of his head. You slip two fingers onto his wrist to check his pulse.

"How're you feeling?" you ask, watching him closely.

"Like I hit my fucking head on the corner of a table," he grumbles. His pulse is steady, which is a good sign.

"Any dizziness? Nausea?"

He scrunches up his face. "A little dizzy, but I think it's mostly because I'm terrified of bleeding out on the couch."

Before you can respond, Chan rushes back into the room with the first aid kit. He sets it down beside you and crosses his arms, watching intently.

You slip on a pair of gloves and examine the cut on Jisung's head. It's not too deep, but the blood has definitely freaked him out. "The cut's less than the width of my thumb," you tell Chan without looking up. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Chan, ever the worried mom of the group, frowns. "But there's so much blood."

You glance up at him, offering a small smile. "Head injuries bleed a lot. Trust me, this isn't anything serious." You hold a thick piece of gauze against Jisung's head to stem the bleeding, making sure to apply just the right amount of pressure.

Jisung groans, squirming under your hand. "How am I supposed to wash my hair with a fucking head wound?"

"You're not," you say simply. "Avoid washing it for a few days. No shampoo near the cut. It'll hurt like hell. Wear a beanie or something."

Jisung gives a long, dramatic sigh, but he nods in agreement. "I guess I can pull off the beanie look."

From the kitchen, you hear hushed whispers. The rest of the Alpha Phi boys, Hyunjin, Minho, Jeongin, Changbin and Felix, are gathered there, hovering over the island, whispering amongst themselves.

"Just fucking talk to her," you hear Hyunjin whisper, though his attempt at being quiet isn't very successful.

"Yeah, bro," Changbin chimes in. "Ask her how her coursework is going or something. She's always talking about school, right?"

There's a low mumble, presumably from Felix, and then Minho's sharp voice cuts through the whispers.

"Will you stop being a freckly little bitch, Felix?! So what, she has boobs? Doesn't make her a fucking alien."

You stifle a laugh, pretending you haven't heard a word. It's no secret that Felix has had a crush on you for as long as you've known him. Every time you come over to patch someone up, he gets all quiet and blushy, his freckles standing out even more against his skin.

"Okay, Ji," you say, shifting your focus back to the task at hand. "Let's make sure you're not concussed."

You pull out your phone and shine a flashlight into his eyes, checking his pupillary response. "Any double vision? Feeling disoriented?"

He shakes his head, then winces. "Nah, nothing like that."

You ask him a series of questions, running through the standard concussion protocol. Jisung answers each one with his usual brand of sarcasm, but he's sharp, and you're pretty sure he's in the clear.

"Alright, you're good," you say, packing up the first aid kit. "No concussion, but take it easy for the next day or two. If you feel any weird symptoms, you better call me."

He nods, slouching back on the couch. "Thanks. You're a fucking lifesaver."

You stand up, stretching your legs, and glance over toward the kitchen where Felix is still standing awkwardly, clearly trying to work up the courage to say something. You offer him a smile, but he quickly averts his gaze, pretending to be deeply interested in the conversation between Hyunjin and Minho.

Before you can call him out on it, Jisung pipes up again. "Y/N, seriously though, how the fuck am I gonna survive not washing my hair? I can't go three days without washing it. My scalp will hate me."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You'll survive. Just invest in some dry shampoo, and you'll be fine. Plus, you'll be wearing beanies, remember? No one will even notice."

Jisung grumbles something under his breath, clearly not satisfied with your answer, but you don't miss the small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You let out a deep sigh, standing up from your spot beside Jisung and stretching your stiff limbs. The boys continue their quiet conversation in the kitchen, and you catch bits of it while you clean up the leftover gauze and medical supplies. You're packing up the first aid kit when Chan strides back into the living room, a serious look plastered on his face.

"Hey, you checked the weather yet?" he asks, pulling out his phone and waving it in the air as if the mere sight of it will clue you into what's happening.

"Nope, too busy saving Jisung's life," you reply with a smirk, casting a glance at your friend who's dramatically flopped across the couch, still nursing the back of his head.

Chan rolls his eyes, not in the mood for jokes. "Well, you might wanna brace yourself 'cause they just issued a weather alert for an incoming blizzard."

You pause for a moment, your brain catching up with the weight of his words. "A blizzard? Like snow, snow?"

"Yeah, no shit, snow," Chan huffs. "They're saying it's going to hit hard, and we'll be snowed in for at least four days."

You blink at him, processing his words before the reality of it sinks in. "You're telling me I'm snowed in here? For four days?"

"Looks like it," he says with a shrug. "And it's already picking up, so I'd say it's a safe bet you're not going anywhere anytime soon."

You groan loudly, throwing your hands up in the air. "What the fuck am I going to do about clothes? I didn't exactly pack for a four-day fucking stay!"

Chan raises an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "You're seriously asking me that? You literally have two drawers full of your fucking clothes in my room that didn't fit into your dorm when you moved in."

Your arms drop to your sides as the realization hits you. "Oh... yeah. I do, don't I?"

Chan nods, crossing his arms in satisfaction. "Not to mention the fact that you also have a whole-ass bag of makeup here for whenever you crash after parties."

You roll your eyes. "Okay, but you don't have a decent mirror! Your mirror's disgusting. It's covered in some kind of bodily fluid that I do not want to identify."

"Hey, fuck off!" Chan protests, a hand flying to his chest in mock offence. "That mirror's seen some shit."

"Exactly!" you exclaim, your nose wrinkling in disgust.

From the kitchen, you hear snickers as Changbin and Jeongin exchange a glance. They nudge Felix, who's still standing awkwardly at the edge of the group, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like he's debating whether or not to join in the conversation. You catch the way they nudge him, and the murmur of voices from the kitchen reaches your ears.

"Tell her she can use your mirror," Jeongin whispers, elbowing Felix in the ribs.

Minho, leaning casually against the fridge, rolls his eyes at the whole situation. "Jesus Christ, just get a fucking grip and talk to her," he mutters before shoving Felix roughly toward the living room.

Felix stumbles forward, his face a bit flushed from the push, but he catches himself and straightens up. "Uh, Y/N," he says, trying to play it cool, "you can use my mirror. It's definitely clean."

There's a pause as you turn to face Felix, surprised but pleasantly amused by his offer. "Well, at least one of you has decent hygiene," you say, giving him a playful grin.

Felix's face lights up with a wide smile, his freckles standing out against his skin as he glances back toward the kitchen. The guys are all watching him with varying degrees of anticipation. Hyunjin is giving him two enthusiastic thumbs up, while Changbin is nodding like a proud parent. 

But it's Minho, of course, who takes things too far. He catches Felix's eye, forms a V with his fingers in front of his face, and flicks his tongue between them, grinning like a devil.

Felix's eyes widen, and without missing a beat, he slams the door between the living room and the kitchen before you can turn around and see what's going on.

You laugh, completely oblivious to Minho's antics, and Felix lets out a relieved breath, his ears turning a little pink. "You okay, Lix? You look like you're gonna pass out," you tease.

"I'm good," he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. "Just, you know, cold."

"Sure," you chuckle, glancing toward the door he just slammed shut. "Anyway, thanks for the mirror offer. I might take you up on that."

Felix gives a small nod, his nerves quickly melting away now that he's actually talking to you. "Yeah, anytime. Would you like a blanket? You look cold"

You smile. "Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks."

Felix nods and quickly disappears toward the hallway, while you head into the kitchen to make yourself some tea. As you fill the kettle, you hear the low murmur of voices behind you. Minho is standing by the counter, smirking in your direction.

"Y/N, my darling," Minho starts, his tone dripping with mischief, "I told Felix that he needs to take you to his room and just go primal, you know? Eat you like a man starved. Just—"

Minho makes a wildly inappropriate gesture with his hands, mimicking a ravenous eating motion that has you snorting in spite of yourself. You shake your head, turning to face him fully.

"You're fucking ridiculous, Minho."

"You're welcome," he says, flashing you a toothy grin.

"You certainly have a way with words," you deadpan, turning back to pour hot water into your mug.

Minho's grin widens. "Thank you very much. I do try."

Before you can respond, Felix returns with a blanket, stepping into the kitchen just as Minho's eyes flick back to you. "You know, this horribly traumatizing weather is being made much better by the underboob from that crop top, Y/N," Minho announces with a wink.

Felix smacks him upside the head. "Dude, seriously?"

Minho yelps, rubbing the back of his head but looking entirely unrepentant. "I'm serious! Look!" He gestures toward you dramatically. "So much underboob!"

You roll your eyes, but you can't help laughing. "Minho, you should have been a poet."

He smirks. "I can't do that to the world. I'm already too talented."

Felix hands you the blanket, his cheeks tinged pink as he avoids Minho's gaze. "Here. Sorry about Minho."

You take the blanket gratefully, wrapping it around your shoulders. "Don't worry about it, Lix. I'm used to it by now."

You sip your tea, savouring the warmth as it spreads through your chest, but the moment of peace is short-lived. Chan bursts into the kitchen, tossing a hoodie at your head with no warning.

"Cover up before Minho busts in his pants," he says, deadpan.

The hoodie smacks you right in the face, causing you to drop your mug, which shatters against the kitchen floor. You stare at the broken pieces in disbelief before you huff, crouching down to pick up the shards of ceramic. "That's not very feminist of you, Chan. I'm at fault for Minho being a pervert?"

Jeongin, who had been standing quietly by the door, perks up. "Wow, Chan. Is that how it is in this frat house now?"

Chan throws his hands up in exasperation. "Well, excuse me for trying to help."

Minho, meanwhile, is watching the whole exchange with a lazy grin. "Honestly, I'd hit on Y/N even if she was wearing a fucking habit."

You roll your eyes, muttering under your breath as you gather the broken pieces of your mug. "Of course you would."

Chan watches you for a moment, his brow furrowing in concern. "Are you seriously picking up shards of a mug with your bare hands? You're a paramedic student, for fuck's sake. You should know better."

You shoot him an exasperated look. "Do you want me to stop patching you and your pack of stupid hyenas up? Because if I don't pick it up, I know I'll be pulling pieces out of one of their feet. Probably Minho's."

Minho's voice cuts through the chaos of the kitchen, clearly not bothered by the fact that you're on your hands and knees picking up broken shards of ceramic. "You know, I just mopped those fucking floors earlier. And now there's tea all over them. Burn the witch, I say!" He points dramatically at you like you've just committed a grave sin.

You pause for a second, shaking your head at his ridiculousness. "Fuck off, Minho," you mutter, standing up with a handful of shards and tossing them into the trash.

Chan steps forward, holding out a mop in your direction with a smirk plastered on his face. "Here. You broke the mug, might as well clean it up."

You look at the mop, then back at Chan, crossing your arms defiantly. "I think the fuck not. You're not about to reinforce some gender stereotype where women clean up messes that are men's fault. You threw the hoodie. You started the chain of causation. Therefore, it's your mess."

Chan blinks, his mouth opening as if he's about to argue, but then he shuts it again, looking between you and the mop. "You're really pulling that card?"

"Damn right, I am," you shoot back, raising an eyebrow. "Now get to mopping before I call your mother."

Chan freezes, eyes wide as if you just threatened to expose his deepest, darkest secret. He glances toward Minho and Felix for backup, but both of them shrug. Minho's shit-eating grin returns as he leans against the counter.

"Best get to mopping, mate," Minho says with a smug chuckle. "You really wanna go up against her when she's got Jess on speed dial?"

Chan's shoulders sag in defeat. "You wouldn't."

You pull out your phone, scrolling to the contact labelled Jess, and hold it up for him to see. "Oh, but I would. And I'm supposed to call her at some point this week anyway. She wants to catch up. So, I could just tell her right now how her sweet baby boy is being a little bitch and trying to make me clean up his mess."

"You're fucking evil," Chan mutters under his breath, but you can tell he's losing this fight by the way his hand tightens around the mop handle.

"No," you say, a grin tugging at your lips, "you're just mad because you know she'll give you a beatdown."

Chan narrows his eyes at you, clearly debating whether to call your bluff. "Go ahead. Call her. Because I am not fucking mopping this floor."

You shrug, dialling Jess's number and hopping up onto the counter, swinging your legs playfully. "Okay, sure. I'll call her. Watch me."

As the phone rings, Chan's eyes widen, and he curses under his breath, but he doesn't move to take the mop just yet. The others in the kitchen are watching the standoff like it's some kind of high-stakes poker game. Felix looks a bit nervous, while Minho's grin is spreading wider, enjoying every second of the showdown.

Finally, the call connects, and you hear Jess's familiar, warm voice on the other end. "Y/N! Sweetheart! Oh, it's so good to hear from you! I've been meaning to call you this week. How are you, love?"

You grin, throwing a playful glance at Chan, who has frozen in place, still holding the mop but clearly debating his next move. Minho's shit-eating grin grows wider, watching the scene unfold like his favourite TV show. "Hi, Jess! I missed you too. Yeah, I'm doing great! Just calling to catch up and, well, talk about Chan."

At the mention of his name, Chan's eyes widen. He takes one look at the mop, then at you, and curses under his breath. He drops the mop to the floor with a loud slap and starts mopping furiously. The sound of the mop swishing back and forth fills the room, along with the snickers of the rest of the boys who are watching Chan's dignity slowly wither away.

"Fuck you," Chan mutters, glaring up at you.

You stick your tongue out at him in response, still smiling sweetly as you talk into the phone. "Yeah, Jess, I've been a little worried about him lately"

Chan freezes again, his back stiffening as he pauses mid-mop. "Y/N," he warns, his voice dangerously low.

"Yeah, so," you continue, ignoring Chan's murderous glare, "he's been saying he misses home a lot recently. You know, really homesick. But that's not the only thing. There's also been... uhm... well, some bed-wetting incidents."

Chan's eyes go so wide you're worried they might actually fall out of the sockets. He drops the mop, standing upright in shock. "What the actual fuck are you saying right now?!"

You shoot him a smug look, holding up a finger to silence him. "Yeah, Jess, it's true. I've been worried because it's been happening more frequently, and, well, I think it might be a medical issue. I mean, the bed is soaked. Every time. Like, drenched. It's honestly concerning."

From behind you, Felix chokes on his tea, coughing loudly as he desperately tries to contain his laughter. Jeongin, who's been leaning casually against the counter, has his hands over his mouth, shaking with silent laughter. Hyunjin has literally fallen to the floor, clutching his stomach as he wheezes.

Chan is staring at you, absolutely flabbergasted. "You're fucking lying. Oh my god, what the fuck?!"

You smirk, enjoying every second of this. "Jess, I'm really worried it might be his bladder, you know? I mean, there's so much, and it just keeps happening. Minho and I had to take him shopping for adult diapers the other day, didn't we, Minho?"

Minho, ever the drama king, doesn't miss a beat. He throws his hands up in exaggerated agreement. "Oh yeah, we sure did. Got him a whole box of those super absorbent ones! And don't even get me started on the baby powder. Had to buy a shit-ton of it to prevent any chafing. You know how it is."

"You both are dead!" Chan hisses, his face a bright shade of crimson. He's practically foaming at the mouth now, but he keeps mopping, knowing that if he stops, you'll only keep this going.

There's a brief silence on the other end of the line as Jess processes everything you've just said. You can practically hear the cogs turning in her head. "Oh... oh dear," she finally says, her voice tinged with concern. "That does sound serious. I'll have to talk to him about it. Poor Channie. He must be so embarrassed."

"Y/N!" Chan hisses, storming over to you, looking like he's two seconds away from strangling you.

You hold up the phone, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "Don't tell Chan I told you, okay? He's really sensitive about it. I just thought, you know, as his mom, you should know what's going on."

Jess sighs on the other end. "Of course, sweetheart. I won't say a word. Thank you for looking out for him, Y/N. You're such a good friend."

"Anytime, Jess," you say sweetly, shooting Chan a wink. "I'll talk to you soon!"

You hang up the call before Chan can grab the phone out of your hand. As soon as you do, the kitchen erupts into chaos. Felix is on the floor now, joining Hyunjin in hysterics. Jeongin is gasping for air, clutching his sides, while Changbin is bent over the counter, wheezing with laughter. Even Seungmin, who's usually the calm and collected one, has a hand over his mouth, shaking his head in disbelief.

Chan, however, is not laughing. He glares at you, his jaw clenched so tight you're surprised his teeth haven't shattered. "You... fucking... bitch."

You hop down from the counter, a wide grin plastered on your face. "Look, Captain Pissy Pants," you start, placing a hand on your hip, "if you had just mopped the floor like I asked without trying to pull some macho bullshit, your mom wouldn't think you piss the bed and wear adult diapers. But noooo, you had to go and be difficult."

Chan lets out a frustrated growl, tossing the mop aside. "You're dead. You're fucking dead. Do you realize what you've done? My mom is going to be on my ass about this for weeks!"

You shrug nonchalantly, enjoying the sight of him unravelling. "Well, maybe next time you'll think twice before throwing a hoodie at my head and breaking my mug."

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. "You didn't have to fucking call her, though! Jesus Christ, what am I supposed to tell her now?"

Minho chimes in with a smirk. "Tell her the truth. You piss the bed. Simple as that."

Chan shoots him a glare so deadly it could probably kill a lesser man. "Shut the fuck up, Minho."

Minho holds his hands up in surrender, but the grin never leaves his face. "Just saying, man. The evidence is stacking up against you."

The moment Chan starts launching into an all out rant, you just stand there, entirely unbothered, sipping the fresh cup of tea that Felix had quietly handed you. His hands were shaking a little when he gave it to you, but you'd offered him a warm smile as thanks, and now he's leaning against the counter, sneaking glances at you every few seconds. You know he's waiting for you to react to Chan, but you're in no rush.

Chan, on the other hand, is still losing his mind. He's pacing back and forth, hair dishevelled, gesturing wildly as he rants about what an asshole you are for calling his mom and how she's going to nag him for the rest of his life now.

"Do you even understand what you've fucking done? You've literally ruined me! She's gonna fucking talk about diapers at every family dinner now! I'll never hear the end of this shit!"

You take a long, slow sip of your tea, savouring the warmth that spreads through your chest while Chan continues his tirade.

"You think this is funny, don't you?!" he snaps, pointing an accusatory finger at you. "You're just sitting there with your smug little grin like you didn't just call my mom and tell her I piss the bed! Do you have any fucking idea what kind of trauma you've unleashed on me?"

"Chan," you say, setting your tea down and giving him a pointed look, "I didn't say you piss the bed. I said you had an issue. That's not the same thing."

"Bullshit!" he yells, throwing his hands up. "My mom's gonna think I'm wearing fucking diapers at night now! She'll probably mail me some with cute little ducks on them or some shit. Jesus fucking Christ!"

You raise an eyebrow, remaining entirely composed. "Honestly, if you keep yelling, your bladder control might become a real issue."

"I'm not fucking kidding," he growls, taking a step closer, but before he can continue, you suddenly burst into tears.

It's so sudden, so out of nowhere, that it stops Chan dead in his tracks. His eyes widen, and the room falls into an awkward silence. All the other boys, who had been silently watching the whole thing, freeze too. You're putting on a dramatic show.

Your hands cover your face as you sob, and your shoulders shake with fake cries. Inside, you're fighting hard not to laugh at how quickly everyone's demeanour has changed.

Chan immediately panics. "Oh fuck, shit, no, don't cry!" He drops the mop and rushes toward you, pulling you into a tight hug. His large hands pat your back awkwardly as he rocks you side to side, clearly unsure of what to do. "Fuck, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to make you upset, please stop crying."

Hyunjin jumps in with his usual dramatic flair, pointing at Chan like he's just committed murder. "Are you proud of yourself, Chan? You made her cry! You fucking monster!"

"I didn't—" Chan stammers, looking around helplessly. "I wasn't trying to- Please stop crying. Fuck, I'm sorry, I'll do anything you want, just stop crying. Please?"

You sniffle dramatically, still fake-sobbing into his chest, and Chan's grip tightens around you. "Please, Y/N, I didn't mean it. I'll do anything."

You pull back slightly, wiping at your face with the back of your hand as if drying tears. "Anything?"

"Yes! Anything!" Chan promises, his face full of concern.

You straighten up, wiping away the nonexistent tears and looking him dead in the eyes. "Mop the fucking floor properly, then. You did a terrible job. Jesus, Chan, did Jessica leave you to be raised by wolves? There's still tea all over the floor! I understand this is a frat house, but have some fucking standards. Are you blind or just incompetent?"

Chan's jaw drops. His brain is clearly trying to catch up to what just happened. "I—What? What the fuck is going on?"

"I'll tell you what the fuck is going on. You need to learn how to mop a fucking floor. Jesus Christ, Chan. Is basic cleanliness too much for you? Just because this is a frat house doesn't mean you should live in a pigsty."

For a moment, Chan just stands there, blinking at you in disbelief, the gears in his brain visibly turning as he tries to process the fact that you were faking your crying the whole time. "You fucking asshole," he finally mutters, his voice low with frustration. "I fucking hate you."

You grin, crossing your arms. "I will tell your mother about the crusty wank socks under your bed, so watch how you speak to me."

Chan's face turns an even deeper shade of red. "I'm going to—"

You raise an eyebrow, cutting him off. "What? What are you gonna do? Can't call my parents. Safe haven baby right here, remember? Who you gonna call?"

From the couch in the living room, Jisung, who's been watching the entire interaction with wide eyes, suddenly shouts, "Ghostbusters!"

You whip around to glare at him, your hands on your hips. "Jisung, you bitch, I don't even know if my parents are dead! What a rude assumption to make!"

Jisung, never one to back down, sits up with a shrug. "But the Ghostbusters could, like, look for the ghosts of your parents, you know? They could track them down or something."

Minho, leaning casually against the counter, smirks and shakes his head. "How are they gonna do that, dumbass? Y/N doesn't even know who her parents are. It's not like she has a fucking address to give them."

Jisung pauses, clearly considering this, then shrugs again. "I mean, they're Ghostbusters. They could just, like, look. Isn't that their whole thing? Finding ghosts?"

Hyunjin, who's been watching all this from the sidelines, finally speaks up. "I think the real problem here is that Chan can't mop a fucking floor. I mean, how are you a frat leader and can't even clean up after yourself? I'm starting to question your leadership skills, Captain."

"I'm a fucking football captain, not a janitor!" Chan barks back, still flustered from the earlier events.

"Clearly," you mutter, your gaze still locked on the mess on the floor.

The wind howls outside, rattling the windows of the Alpha Phi frat house as the blizzard continues to gain strength. Snow swirls in furious gusts, piling up against the windowsills and creating an almost surreal, wintry landscape. 

You stare out the window, eyes narrowed as the snow piles up higher and higher, the reality of the situation sinking in. You're trapped. With them. For four whole days.

"Fuck me," you mutter under your breath, crossing your arms as you turn away from the window. "I can't believe I'm stuck with you lot for four days. This is some next-level fucking bullshit."

"Y/N, your eyeliner is fucking smudged," Hyunjin points out, breaking you out of your thoughts. His lips curl into a mischievous grin, clearly amused by your earlier fake crying stunt. "All that fake crying messed you up. Looks like you had a meltdown."

You groan, immediately raising a hand to your eye to swipe at the smudged makeup. "Great. Just what I need. Fucking eyeliner all over my face now."

Hyunjin chuckles, leaning back against the counter, watching you struggle to fix the mess. "Don't worry, you still look hot. Maybe even hotter with the messy eyeliner. Adds to the 'just survived a traumatic event' look."

You shoot him a look, not in the mood to play along with his teasing. "I'm sure that's exactly the aesthetic I was going for. Fucking great."

He laughs again, shrugging like he doesn't have a care in the world. "I'm just saying, it works for you."

Rolling your eyes, you glance over at Felix, who's standing near the doorway with his hands shoved into his pockets, looking like he's been waiting for a moment to jump in. You remember his earlier offer and decide to take him up on it.

"Felix," you call, catching his attention, "can I use your mirror now if that's still alright? I need to fix my eyeliner, and you offered earlier."

Felix's face brightens at the sound of your voice, his freckles standing out against the pink flush spreading across his cheeks. He nods quickly, pushing off the wall. "Y-yeah, of course. Come on, I'll show you to my room."

You grab the blanket still wrapped around your shoulders and toss it onto the nearest chair before following Felix. As you walk past Hyunjin and the rest of the guys in the kitchen, you catch Minho grinning like a devil, but you don't pay it any mind.

What you don't see, though, is Minho's next move. The moment your back is turned, he starts thrusting into the air like an idiot, mimicking some obscene, exaggerated movements that make the guys lose their shit in laughter.

Felix glances over his shoulder and catches Minho in the act. His eyes narrow into a deadly glare, but he says nothing, just quickens his pace, eager to get you upstairs before you can turn around and witness the chaos.

The stairs creak slightly as you both make your way up to the second floor. The walls are lined with old pictures of previous frat members, random sports memorabilia, and a framed, oversized Alpha Phi logo that looks like it's been signed by every member since the dawn of time.

You can hear the muffled sounds of video games from behind one of the doors, and for a moment, it's almost peaceful. Well, as peaceful as a frat house during a blizzard can get.

Felix stops in front of a door near the end of the hall and opens it, stepping aside to let you in first. "Here it is. Sorry if it's a little messy."

You step into Felix's room and immediately notice the massive gaming setup taking up one corner. Three large monitors glow softly, showing various tabs and games left open, along with a scattered array of controllers, cables, and snacks.

It's clear this is where he spends a lot of his time. The room smells faintly of vanilla, mixed with something warm and inviting like cookies just out of the oven. It's very Felix.

As you take in your surroundings, your eyes land on a bookshelf against the far wall. It's packed full of books, some old, some new, all lined up neatly in a way that surprises you given the clutter everywhere else. You can't help but wander over, trailing your fingers along the spines as you read the titles.

Your hand pauses on one in particular. "The Mortal Instruments?" you ask, glancing back at Felix with raised eyebrows. "You're into these?"

Felix's face lights up as he nods, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah. I've been a fan for a while now. The books are way better than the Netflix series though, right?"

You laugh, nodding in agreement as you turn back to the shelf. "Oh my god, yes! The series was okay if you've never read the books, but it just didn't hit the same. They cut out so much, and the characters were off."

Felix steps closer, his excitement palpable. "That's what I've been telling Hyunjin for ages! But he's all like, 'Nooo, Magnus and Alec are hotter on screen than in the books.'" He mimics Hyunjin's whiny tone perfectly, and you laugh again, shaking your head.

"Don't get me wrong, Magnus and Alec are great on screen," you say, "but the books just hit differently. I'm more of a Jace girl myself."

Felix's eyes widen slightly, his smile growing even bigger. "Jace? Really?"

You shrug, turning to face him fully. "Yeah, I like the complicated, brooding types who secretly have a heart of gold. Plus, he's kind of a dumbass sometimes, and I find that endearing."

Felix chuckles softly, nodding. "Yeah, I can see that."

Your fingers trail along the other books on the shelf, stopping on a small, well-worn copy of Romeo and Juliet. You pull it out, glancing at the cover before looking back at Felix. "Romeo and Juliet? A classic."

Felix rubs the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish. "Yeah, I know it's kind of cliche, but I've always liked it. It's tragic, but in a way that makes you think about love and sacrifice."

You smile, flipping through the pages absentmindedly. "I visited Verona with Chan last summer, you know. We went to Juliet's wall."

Felix's eyes light up with curiosity. "Really? How was it?"

You close the book, your fingers lingering on the worn cover. "Honestly, it wasn't as romantic as it sounds when you're there with your best friend who once had to help you when you bled through your trousers at school."

Felix lets out a surprised laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grins at you. "Wow, okay, yeah, I can see how that would kill the mood."

You smirk, placing the book back on the shelf. "But the wall itself was incredible. People from all over the world write letters to Juliet and leave them there, asking for advice or just pouring their hearts out. There's even a group of people who respond to the letters."

Felix's brows furrow in interest. "Wait, seriously? That's amazing."

"Yeah," you nod, turning to face him again. "If this paramedic stuff doesn't work out, I might just move to Verona and join the group that writes back. Imagine that. People turning to one of the most tragic romantic figures in history for help because her love was that powerful. It's kind of poetic, don't you think?"

Felix stares at you for a moment, his expression softening. There's something about the way you speak, so genuine, so full of passion, that makes his heart do a little flip in his chest. He nods slowly, almost mesmerized by you. "Yeah, it is. Really poetic."

You catch the look in his eyes, and for a brief moment, something flickers between you. The air feels a little heavier, charged with something unspoken but undeniable.

Before the moment can stretch too long, you clear your throat and break eye contact, glancing toward the small mirror on his dresser. "Right, I should probably fix my eyeliner before I look like I just escaped from an emo band's comeback tour."

Felix laughs softly, stepping back to give you space. "Yeah, uh, the mirror's all yours. Sorry, I kind of got distracted."

You rummage through your skirt pocket and pull out black liquid eyeliner, the small pen-like tool ready to fix the mess your face has become. You settle in front of Felix's mirror, leaning closer to get a good angle, balancing your weight on one foot while raising your arm to fix the smudged lines around your eyes. You work carefully, adjusting the angle of the eyeliner tip, your reflection staring back at you with determined focus.

Felix stands just behind you, leaning awkwardly against the wall with his hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets. His eyes, though, aren't on your face or the delicate process of you fixing your makeup. They're stuck somewhere lower.

Your skirt has ridden up slightly, just a few inches too high from where it was earlier. The edge of your green and black tartan mini skirt has crept up your thighs, high enough that the lacy trim of your underwear is just barely visible. You're completely oblivious to it, of course, too focused on getting your eyeliner back in check, but Felix? He's frozen in place, trying not to stare, failing miserably.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath, barely audible. His face heats up, turning a shade of red that could rival a tomato, but he can't tear his eyes away.

The thing is, you've always had this effect on him. Ever since you started coming over to the Alpha Phi frat house to patch up the guys after their dumbass stunts, Felix found himself hopelessly drawn to you. It wasn't just the way you looked. Though he'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed.

It was the way you carried yourself, always upbeat, always kind. You weren't afraid to call them out on their bullshit, especially Chan, and that made Felix respect you even more. But this is something different entirely. He knows he shouldn't be looking. He knows it's wrong. But he's stuck.

You continue humming to yourself, the soft tune filling the silence in the room as you carefully reapply your eyeliner. The sound is gentle, almost soothing, and Felix tries to focus on it instead of the distracting sight of your skirt. You don't seem to notice how intensely he's watching you, too caught up in your task, your soft voice barely above a whisper.

"Stars shining bright above you," you murmur, the words of the song slipping from your lips effortlessly. "Night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you.'"

Felix blinks, finally snapping out of his trance, his curiosity piqued by the song. He tilts his head slightly, listening more closely. "What's that song?" he asks, his voice cutting through your humming.

You gasp, turning around so quickly that the eyeliner pen almost flies out of your hand. "You've never heard Dream a Little Dream of Me?" you exclaim, eyes wide in disbelief.

Felix shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. "I mean, I've probably heard it somewhere before, but I don't really recognize it. What's it from?"

You shake your head, a playful grin spreading across your face. "Felix, you sweet summer child," you say, placing the eyeliner down for a second to give him your full attention. "It's a classic. The kind of song you hear in old movies or when you're sitting in a cosy café with soft jazz playing in the background. It's dreamy, romantic, you know, that old-timey love song vibe."

Felix chuckles nervously, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Well, I guess I've been missing out."

You lean back against the dresser, crossing your arms and tilting your head at him. "Missing out? You're a Culinary Arts major. You probably hear shit like this all the time in those fancy restaurants. You just don't know it because you're too focused on making the best dessert ever."

Felix laughs softly, his gaze flickering to the floor for a moment. "You might be right. I guess I should pay more attention."

"Damn right, you should," you tease, turning back to the mirror to finish up your eyeliner. You draw the final line, flicking the wing perfectly at the corner of your eye. "There. All fixed."

Felix's eyes dart to your reflection in the mirror, and for a brief second, he can't help but notice just how stunning you look—even with your messy hair held together by three pens. The underboob peeking out from your cropped black turtleneck and your thigh-high boots only add to the image that's been stuck in his head all night. He quickly averts his gaze again, trying to keep his cool.

"So, Dream a Little Dream of Me, huh?" he says, trying to steer the conversation away from his racing thoughts. "Is that one of your favourite songs?"

You nod, a smile playing on your lips as you cap the eyeliner and slip it back into your skirt pocket. "Yeah, it's up there. It's one of those songs that just makes you feel safe, you know? Like everything's gonna be alright, even when the world's falling apart."

"Yeah," he murmurs, nodding slowly. "I get that."

You glance at him through the mirror, catching the way his gaze softens as he looks at you. There's a moment of silence that stretches between you, comfortable but charged with something unspoken.

You break the silence first, turning to face him with a grin. "You know, Felix, I could teach you some classic songs. Expand your musical horizons a bit."

Felix chuckles, his face lighting up. "I'd like that. But only if you promise to teach me while I'm baking something. We can make it a whole 'baking with a soundtrack' kind of thing."

You laugh, the sound bright and genuine. "Deal. I'll make sure we're listening to the best oldies while you whip up something delicious."

There's a pause, and Felix's eyes meet yours again, this time with a bit more confidence. "You're really good at this, you know?"

"At what? Fixing my eyeliner?" you joke, raising an eyebrow.

Felix shakes his head, smiling. "No, I mean at being so you."

You blink, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. "So me?"

"Yeah," he says, rubbing the back of his neck again, that nervous energy creeping back into his movements. "I mean, you're always so... you. Confident, funny, smart... I don't know how you do it."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at his words, and for a moment, you're not sure how to respond. Felix, the quiet, sweet, freckle-faced guy who's always been a little too shy around you, is suddenly opening up in a way you didn't expect.

"Well, thanks, Lix," you say softly, offering him a warm smile. "But you're not so bad yourself. You've got this... quiet charm about you, you know? You don't need to be loud or obnoxious to get people's attention."

Felix's cheeks flush again, and he looks down at the floor, smiling to himself. "I guess."

You shake your head, stepping closer to him and nudging him lightly with your elbow. "Seriously. You've got a lot going for you. And don't let these idiots downstairs tell you otherwise."

Felix looks up at you, his eyes bright and filled with something you can't quite place. There's a beat of silence, and for a moment, it feels like the rest of the world has faded away, leaving just the two of you in this small room, the snowstorm outside a distant memory.

But then, as if on cue, the door to Felix's room bursts open, and in storms Chan, looking more frazzled than usual. "Y/N, we need you. Again."

You groan, throwing your head back in exasperation. "What now? Did Minho finally break something?"

Chan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he leans against the doorframe. "Well, Minho kind of broke something," he says, dragging out the last two words.

You raise an eyebrow. "Kind of?"

"Yeah," Chan grumbles. "He poked at Jisung's head so now it's bleeding. Again."

You let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Are you fucking serious? Is Jisung just cursed to have a cracked skull for the rest of his life?"

Felix chuckles nervously from his spot near the bed, and Chan looks even more exasperated as he pushes off the doorframe. "Come on. I don't know how bad it is this time, but he's freaking out again, and Minho's not exactly helping."

"I swear to god, if he's haemorrhaging I will kill myself," you mutter as you make your way to the door.

The moment you're out of the room, Felix lets out a long breath he didn't even realize he was holding. He runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to shake off whatever tension had built up in the room while you were there.

But Chan, perceptive as ever, catches on almost immediately. As soon as you're out of earshot, he turns back to Felix with a knowing smirk. "Why are you standing so stiffly, bro? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Felix's eyes widen, and he shifts awkwardly, clearly trying to play it cool. "W-What do you mean? I'm fine."

"Bullshit," Chan says, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at his friend. "You've been acting weird ever since Y/N got here. I know you have a massive crush on her. You've had one for ages, man."

Felix's face turns bright red, and he stumbles over his words, trying to deny it. "I—no—I mean—okay, maybe, but—"

Before he can finish, the words just tumble out of his mouth in a rush. "I saw her underwear."

There's a brief pause as Chan processes what Felix just said. Then, as if on cue, a shit-eating grin spreads across Chan's face. "Wait, hold the fuck up. You saw her underwear and now you're blushing like a fucking schoolgirl?"

Felix groans, burying his face in his hands. "It's not like I did it on purpose! Her skirt just... I don't know, it rode up a little, and I wasn't trying to look, but I just—"

"Dude, you've hooked up with girls before," Chan interrupts, still grinning like a madman. "And I've heard what your exes have to say about you. They always go on and on about how you're, like, this dominant, take-charge guy in the bedroom. So what the fuck is different with Y/N?"

Felix sighs, clearly flustered by the conversation. "I don't fucking know, okay? It's just... different with her. I can't explain it."

Chan shakes his head, still chuckling under his breath. "Bro, you need to channel some of that dominant energy into approaching her, for fuck's sake. Stop overthinking every word and just act. You're always second-guessing yourself around her, and it's painful to watch."

Felix rubs the back of his neck, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, I know..."

"Look, she's not gonna bite your head off, okay?" Chan says, clapping a hand on Felix's shoulder. "You just need to be yourself. She already likes you, man. She keeps coming around, doesn't she? Just stop being such a pussy and talk to her like you would anyone else."

Felix frowns, clearly unsure. "I don't want to fuck things up."

Chan rolls his eyes. "You're not gonna fuck things up. Just relax, be yourself, and stop being a fucking weirdo about it."

Felix nods, though he still looks a bit uncertain. "Yeah, okay. Maybe I'll try."

"Good," Chan says, giving him a small shove toward the door. "Though now's probably not the time, considering she's dealing with Minho's dumbass again. But later. I'm holding you to this."

Felix lets out a nervous laugh but nods in agreement. "Yeah. Later."

You kneel next to Jisung on the couch, the familiar ritual of pulling on latex gloves calming you slightly as you grab gauze and bandages from your well-worn first aid kit. Jisung leans back, pressing another towel to the back of his head, his lips forming a half-pout, half-grimace as he watches you move with practised precision.

"Alright, Sungie," you sigh, snapping the gloves in place with a resigned shake of your head. "What the fuck happened this time?"

Jisung winces dramatically, slumping further into the cushions, trying to gain some semblance of sympathy. "It's Minho's fault. I swear. He just... poked it."

You flick your gaze to where Minho stands, arms crossed and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. You're not surprised. It's always Minho or Hyunjin getting into shit, dragging Jisung along for the ride.

You narrow your eyes at him. "Minho, what the fuck were you thinking? He's already got a bandage on his head. You're supposed to leave it alone."

Minho shrugs like it's no big deal, giving you his signature grin. "I was just checking it! You know, like a concerned friend. I gave it a little poke to see if it was healing. Turns out it wasn't."

You press the gauze against the back of Jisung's head with enough force to make him hiss in discomfort. "Minho, you're not a doctor. Stop poking shit. I've already patched him up once today."

Jisung groans, leaning into your touch as if he's two seconds from making a dramatic plea for mercy. "I'm not gonna make it, Y/N. I can feel the life draining out of me."

You stifle a laugh, shaking your head. "You're not dying, Sungie. Stop being a baby."

He peeks at you through squinted eyes. "Where's Felix and Chan? I thought they were supposed to be here. I feel like I'm missing out on their comforting presence."

You roll your eyes. "They're probably still in Felix's room, avoiding this fucking circus." You finish taping up the new bandage, adjusting it slightly to make sure it's secure. "Not that I blame them."

As you finish, you grab your small flashlight from the first aid kit and click it on, leaning forward to shine it in Jisung's eyes. "Hold still. Just making sure you don't have a concussion."

He freezes immediately. "Wait, why? Do you think there's bleeding in my brain?!"

You chuckle softly. "Relax, Sungie. If you had a brain bleed, you wouldn't be sitting here whining. I'm just making sure you don't have a concussion."

He groans dramatically. "That's not exactly comforting, Y/N."

You ignore him, finishing your check. "You're fine. Just stay away from Minho and you'll live."

Without warning, Jisung wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. "You're a lifesaver, Y/N. What would we do without you?"

You laugh, patting him on the back. "You'd probably be in the hospital more often."

Minho watches from the side, a dramatic pout forming on his lips. "Where's my hug, Y/N? I'm the one who made this exciting for you."

You shoot him a look, pulling away from Jisung and settling back on the couch. "I don't hug idiots who reopen their friend's head wounds. It's a moral stance of mine."

Minho smirks, clearly unbothered. "That's just cold, Y/N. After everything I've done for you."

You stretch your legs out, draping them across Jisung's lap. "Tell you what, Minho. I'll give you a hug if you go and make me a passionfruit martini."

His eyes light up instantly, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Deal. One passionfruit martini coming right up."

As Minho disappears into the kitchen, Jisung shifts under your legs, giving you a curious look. "As soon as that drink touches your lips, you're off duty, right?"

You nod, closing your eyes and leaning back into the couch. "Exactly. Once that martini's in my hand, I'm off the clock. No more first aid for the next twelve hours."

Jisung lets out a loud sigh. "But we're stuck in a blizzard. You know someone's going to do something dumb."

You crack one eye open, shooting him a pointed look. "Then my advice? All of you sit down and do not move for twelve hours."

He snorts, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "I'll try, but no promises."

A few minutes later, Minho returns, carefully balancing a martini glass filled with a vibrant orange liquid. He hands it to you with a smug grin, clearly proud of his creation. "Your passionfruit martini, m'lady."

You take a sip, the sweet and tart flavour mixing perfectly on your tongue. "Not bad, Minho. Maybe you're not entirely useless after all."

He grins, plopping down beside you on the couch. "So, cuddle time now?"

You laugh, shaking your head as you stand up, drink still in hand. "Sorry, Minho. No cuddle time. I'm heading back upstairs to talk with Felix about books."

Minho raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Felix, huh? What's going on with you two up there?"

You roll your eyes, walking toward the stairs. "Fuck off, Minho."

His laughter follows you as you climb the stairs, the sound echoing in the quiet house. You know he's not going to let it go, but right now, you couldn't care less. You've been looking forward to talking to Felix again. He's always so thoughtful, and you find his company calming in a way that none of the other guys manage.

Before heading to Felix's room, you make a quick detour to Chan's. Pushing open the door, you walk over to the drawers that you've basically claimed as your own. It started when Chan insisted you leave some clothes at the house to avoid carrying around a huge bag every time you came over to patch someone up. Now, the drawers are filled with your clothes. Enough for several days if you ever got snowed in.

You rummage through the pile of clothes until you find a white oversized cable-knit sweater. It's soft and cozy, hanging just above your knees when you pull it on. You grab a pair of black yoga shorts and slip them on underneath, completing the look with fluffy white socks.

Satisfied, you grab your martini from the dresser and head to Felix's room.

When you reach his door, you knock lightly before pushing it open. Inside, Felix is pacing back and forth, looking lost in thought. Chan is lounging on Felix's bed, his phone in hand as he scrolls through something.

"Am I interrupting something?" you ask, stepping inside and closing the door behind you.

Felix stops pacing immediately, his face lighting up with a sheepish smile. "No, no. You're not interrupting."

Chan looks up from his phone, grinning lazily. "Oh hey. Were your ears burning?"

You raise an eyebrow, sipping your martini. "No. Should they have been?"

Felix shoots Chan a warning glare, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Ignore him. He doesn't know what he's talking about." He then turns to Chan, his voice slightly firmer, "Weren't you just leaving, Chan?"

Chan smirks, pushing himself up from the bed with a stretch. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you two alone" He winks at Felix, clearly enjoying the situation, before sauntering out of the room.

Once the door clicks shut, Felix sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Sorry about him. He's been teasing me all day."

You smile, sitting on the edge of his bed. "It's fine. I'm used to Chan's bullshit. What's got you pacing around like that?"

Felix shrugs, moving to sit next to you, his gaze focused on the floor. "I was just thinking about what we talked about earlier. You know, those classic love stories."

You tilt your head, intrigued. "Yeah? What about them?"

He fiddles with the edge of his shirt, not meeting your eyes. "I don't know. I guess I've been wondering if stuff like that happens in real life. The kind of love that feels epic."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you lean forward slightly, your martini forgotten for a moment. "Yeah, those stories always seem larger than life. But I think they exist in some form. Maybe not exactly like the books, but you know, love can still be intense and beautiful."

Felix looks up at you then, his eyes searching yours. There's a vulnerability in his gaze that you don't see often, and it makes your chest tighten. "Do you think it's something worth fighting for? Even if it's hard?"

Felix's question lingers in the air, heavy with a vulnerability that catches you off guard. His gaze, for once, holds steady on yours, and you can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes. It's different from the usual nervous Felix you're used to. This is Felix with purpose, Felix with conviction.

Before you can even think of a response, he gently takes the martini glass out of your hand, placing it carefully on the nightstand. His fingers brush against yours as he sets the glass down, and the sudden contact sends a jolt of something electric up your spine.

"Fuck it," Felix murmurs, more to himself than to you, and suddenly his hands are cupping your face, pulling you toward him. His lips crash against yours, firm and decisive, nothing like the hesitant, unsure Felix you've known for so long.

The kiss is confident, controlled. He's guiding it, taking the lead. Felix's lips press against yours with an intensity that surprises you, his hands sliding from your face to your neck, his fingers curling gently in your hair. The kiss deepens, and you melt into it, your hands finding their way to his chest, gripping the soft fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself in the moment.

There's nothing hesitant about the way he's kissing you now—his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, and you part your lips instinctively, letting him take control. His movements are bold, purposeful, and you can feel the pent-up desire in the way his hands slide down your sides, pulling you closer.

Your heart pounds in your chest, the heat between you building with every second. You're not thinking anymore, just feeling the way Felix's lips move against yours, the taste of him, the warmth of his hands as they roam your body, tugging you closer as if he can't get enough.

The kiss becomes more intense, more heated, as if he's pouring everything he's ever felt into it—every shy glance, every blush, every quiet moment between the two of you. It's all here, in this kiss, and it leaves you breathless.

Just as things are heating up, the door swings open with a loud bang, and the moment is interrupted by a startled, "Oh shit!"

You both pull away, lips still tingling from the kiss, and turn toward the door. Chan is standing there, eyes wide, clearly caught off guard by what he's just walked in on.

"Oh shit," Chan repeats, blinking rapidly as if trying to process what he's seeing.

Behind him, you hear Minho's voice, dripping with his usual teasing tone. "Oh, hello."

Jisung is right behind them, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face. "Took you long enough, Felix. You're not all blushy anymore, huh?"

Minho steps further into the room, arms crossed, a satisfied smirk on his face. "That's what happens when you get the girl"

Felix leans back slightly, his arm still draped around your waist. He gives them a look that's half-annoyed, half-amused. "Do you guys mind?"

Jisung throws his hands up, still grinning. "Nah, we're just here for the show. About fucking time, by the way."

You glance at Felix, and he looks back at you, both of you sharing a quiet moment of amusement. "Are you guys done gawking, or are you planning on standing there all night?" you ask, crossing your arms but smiling nonetheless.

Minho leans against the doorframe, raising an eyebrow. "Depends. You two gonna make out again, or is that it for tonight?"

Felix rolls his eyes, pulling you closer against his side, his hand resting comfortably on your waist. "Maybe if you leave, we will."

Chan laughs, stepping forward and throwing an arm around Minho's shoulder. "Alright, alright, we'll give you two some privacy. But don't think this is over. We're definitely talking about this later."

Minho gives you both a knowing wink before finally retreating back into the hallway. "Good job, Lix"

As they turn to leave, Jisung lingers for just a second longer, his grin still annoyingly wide. "I'm proud of you, man. I knew you had it in you."

"Get out," Felix groans, though there's a smile playing on his lips.

With one final laugh, Jisung disappears down the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving you and Felix alone once again.

There's a beat of silence, and then Felix lets out a long sigh, his head falling forward to rest against your shoulder. "They're never gonna let me live this down, are they?"

You chuckle, threading your fingers through his soft hair. "Probably not. But hey, they're just jealous."

Felix lifts his head, his eyes locking with yours, and the playful smile that curves his lips is enough to make your heart race all over again. "You think so?"

You nod, leaning in closer until your noses are almost touching. "Definitely."

Without another word, Felix closes the small distance between you, his lips finding yours once again. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate, but no less intense. His hand slides up your back, pulling you against him, and you can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm.

It's just the two of you now, no teasing friends, no interruptions, just the quiet sound of your breath mingling with his, the soft rustle of the sheets as you shift closer to each other on the bed.

When you finally pull away, breathless but content, Felix rests his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. "I've wanted to do that for a long time."

You smile, brushing a stray lock of hair away from his face. "What took you so long, then?"

He laughs softly, his fingers tracing gentle circles on your lower back. "I don't know. Guess I was scared of messing things up."

You tilt your head, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. "Well, you didn't mess anything up. In fact, I'd say you did pretty damn well."

Felix's grin widens, and for a moment, he looks like the Felix you've always known. Sweet, shy, and just a little bit unsure of himself. But there's something different now, something more confident in the way he holds you, the way his eyes flicker with a newfound certainty.

"I think we should probably lock the door next time," he says, his voice laced with amusement.

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. "Yeah, good idea. I'm not sure I can handle another round of Minho, Chan and Jisung."

Felix chuckles, his hand stroking your hair. "They're never gonna let me forget this, are they?"

You shake your head, closing your eyes as you relax into him. "Nope. But that's what makes them who they are."

There's a comfortable silence between you, the weight of what just happened settling in. It feels right. Like something that's been a long time coming. And as you sit there in the quiet, Felix's arms around you, you can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, those epic love stories aren't so far-fetched after all.

After a few moments, Felix speaks again. "So, what happens now?"

You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze with a smile. "Well, I was thinking we could finish that book discussion."

Felix laughs, shaking his head. "Of course. You and your books."

You grin, leaning in to kiss him softly. "What can I say? I like a good story."

Felix's smile is warm as he pulls you closer. "Well, I think we're writing a pretty good one ourselves."

And with that, the two of you settle back into the comfortable rhythm that has always been there—only now, it feels a little different. A little more certain. A little more yours.

[faithst]

WHEN THEIR S/O WEAR ANOTHER MEMBER’S CLOTHES

pairing zb1 x gn!reader

genre fluff, comedy, some jealousy

notes hiii thank u for liking my works 💕 i hope you enjoy this one !! just an update because i’m busy the next few weeks ❤️

masterlist<3

— zhang hao

guess who’s sweater you’re wearing ?

thats right, hanbin’s sweater !

when hao sees you in the piece of clothing, he thinks nothing of it

cuz he wears it alot too

and he didn’t notice it wasn’t his sweater

like ‘hey, that’s a cool sweater!’

but then he realises that you’re wearing hanbin’s clothes

‘wait a minute… i’ve seen that before..’

has a moment of confusion; whether to be jealous of hanbin or jealous of you 😦

in the end he just doesn’t care that much

makes you both take turns wearing said sweater

“it’s my turn to wear that!”

— sung hanbin

maybe a bit annoyed but he doesn’t show it

he sees you w matthew’s hoodie on and stops in his tracks

‘huh, that’s not mine..’ ‘why does it look familiar though?’

and then he realises

immediately rushes to you and offers another hoodie, his hoodie 🤝

“why though? this hoodie is comfortable.” “it’s not mine, love.”

your mouth forms an o

you immediately take it off and wear his

hanbin is happy now 👍

he might be just a teeny more strict on matthew after the incident tho

“you look better in my hoodie.”

— seok matthew

he’s a bit annoyed

not at you tho <3

“hey babe!” he beams, stopping in his tracks upon seeing you

“why are you wearing gunwook’s shirt?” he furrowed his eyebrows

“i just picked the one that was nearest to me.” you explained

matthew sighed in response “this kid..”

“gunwook, stop placing your clothes everywhere!” he scolds, filling the house with his voice 😤

he then goes to get his own shirt and comes back handing it to you

“wear this, my shirts are better.”

— shen ricky

immediately notices

cuz he takes note of everything you take from him and everything he buys for you 💰

“that’s a comfortable hoodie.” he comments

your quirk an eyebrow before speaking up “yeah, it’s yours.”

ricky pouts, slightly shaking his head

“wait, this isn’t yours? why was it in your closet then?” you ask, pulling over the hoodie over your head

“i forgot to return this to jiwoong.” he responded with a sheepish smile

“it was comfortable though..”

ricky immediately brings out his phone to buy you the same exact hoodie

“which colour do you want?”

— park gunwook

jealous 💯

you were out with gunwook and gyuvin

and it was really chilly outside

as any cliché moment goes, gunwook wanted to wrap his jacket around you

but the thing was, he didn’t have a jacket at the moment

so gyuvin offered his as you weren’t wearing as many layers

gunwook knew it was the only thing they could do at the moment but he couldn’t help but feel bummed

tries to hide his obvious pout

“oh, are you still cold? here, take my sweater.”

literally takes off his sweater and suffers in the cold just so he didn’t have to see gyuvin’s jacket around you anymore

“it’s not cold at all!” he manages to mutter out with trembling lips

— kim taerae

i don’t think he minds

actually, i don’t think he knows

like, he sees you in a new jacket and is like “that’s a nice jacket!”

proceeds to ask where you got it from bcuz he wants one too

“what do you mean this is mine? i don’t own anything like this..”

and then gunwook comes in, asking if both of you had seen his jacket 😦

and then he sees you wearing HIS jacket “that’s oddly similar to my missing jacket..”

taerae looks to you and then back to gunwook, confused

finally puts the pieces together “wait, are you wearing wook’s jacket?”

after explaining why you were wearing it in the first place

taerae offers you his jacket

“do you wanna match jackets?”

— kim gyuvin

he’s acting like it doesn’t bother him but it actually does

you search around his wardrobe to find smth comfortable to wear

and also to surprise him cuz he absolutely LOVES it when you wear his clothes 🤭

little did you know that he had taerae’s hoodie in there too

gyuvin comes in and catches you red-handed

“oh my god, hey! i wasn’t stealing your clothes!”

he just silently stares at you “why are you wearing taerae’s hoodie..?”

you grab a part of the hoodie with a confused look “taerae..? i thought it was yours.. it’s comfy though.”

gyuvin’s eyes widen “wait, i have better hoodies.”

frantically starts throwing out all his hoodies from his closet onto the bed

forces you to change into his hoodie while repeating that he isn’t jealous

“the hoodie is bright yellow.. why would you ever think that it’s mine..”

— kim jiwoong

honestly, i don’t think he minds at all

aslong as you’re comfy ykyk 👍

so that’s how you have ricky’s sweater over you while being in jiwoong’s arms

ricky came to receive his sweater back as jiwoong supposedly wanted to ‘borrow’ it

and then ricky finds you wearing it and is genuinely concerned like ‘jiwoong allowed this?’

jiwoong immediately starts rambling how you looked very nice in the sweater

used his oldest card 😭

and convinced ricky into just giving it to you

“ricky, you can just buy another!”

— han yujin

for some reason he has so many clothes

and all those clothes are not his but the other member’s

so even if you did wear another member’s clothing, he simply wouldn’t care cause technically it’s HIS clothing now

hao barges into yujin’s room where you both were playing games 💥

“yujin, have you done your homework yet?” he asks, looking at the shirt you were wearing

hao knits his eyebrows together “isn’t that my shirt?”

although yujin tried to lie about ever stealing it, hao already knew his record of taking the member’s clothes

“i was looking for this everywhere! since when did you take this?” he crossed his arms, about to scold yujin again

“like.. 5 months ago..?”

© keiwook | 2023

tag @bruhiamistake @trashydez @chxrrymxxnlight @haesunflower @big-uwu-stan @gnwookie @yjhcloud @kpoprhia @channiesprincess @blaycke @watamotee33 @hazyskyline @doobinnies @haechan-nahceah

here to join the taglist !

[scientia-rex]

Do you have any moisturization tips? :0

Oh DO I!

Listen, skin has two jobs: keeping you in, and everything else out. Skin has to do a lot of complicated stuff to make that happen. Skin is chock full of glands and pores and whatnot. There's dermis (deeper layer) and epidermis (shallower layer), and 99% of what we're doing from the outside is about the epidermis.

Epidermis grows in as layers--there's a bottom layer that has cells that will just keep dividing forever, and then the cells that divide off that layer will start getting pushed up towards the surface of your skin. As they get pushed up, the cells get flatter and more keratinized and eventually dead.

That "stratum basal" is where you have your forever-dividing cells. So when you start something like Accutane, you can't transform the skin layers above it--you can only start affecting the skin as it marches upward towards its death and flaking off, so you have to give it months to take full effect. And we NEED to have some dead skin. It protects us.

Skin cells have proteins that hold them to each other. The goal is to form a watertight barrier. We need to keep water in because we are basically bags of water. Different protein issues (largely genetic) can cause different skin diseases.

Our skin also has glands that make protective oils (forming a powerful anti-bacterial barrier and trapping moisture inside) and sweat (because we DO want to be able to get rid of water, but only when WE want to).

So here's the thing about commercial moisturizers: none of them can put moisture back in your skin. That's just not a thing. The very best thing they can do is keep further water from leaving your skin. This is especially important if you have eczema, where you stand a good chance (about 50%) of lacking ceramides, which are critical to forming the natural skin barrier. As water evaporates off the skin, it takes more water with it. We don't understand the other half of eczema. Psoriasis involves dysfunction of the keratinization process, which is why those plaques form.

So the best moisturizers are those that create a moisture barrier without evaporating more water off. Any moisturizer where alcohol is a significant ingredient is worthless. Vaseline, or straight white petrolatum, is the best moisturizer. It feels greasy because it is. Its job is to form a watertight barrier, and greasy chemical are a lot better at that than thinner, waterlike chemicals. Moisturizers with silicones, like Aveeno (dimethicone is the active ingredient--I know, the bottle says oatmeal, it's a liar), will provide a fairly robust barrier without as greasy of a feeling. Lanolin, from sheep's wool, is also a great ingredient for forming a barrier, which is why I like Neutrogena Norwegian Formulation. Natural oils like jojoba (the best of the bunch) can be moisturizing, but just FYI, they're a tiny fraction as effective as white petrolatum. Like, less than 10%. I'm too lazy to get up and find my Cosmeceuticals textbook to remind myself exactly how much. So if you want "all natural," resign yourself to worse.

BUT!!!! Your skin is not all the same! You have scalp skin, face skin, neck skin, trunk skin, arm skin, leg skin, skin around your genitals, skin of the palms, and skin of soles of the feet. And all of those can act different. So I can't say "apply Vaseline everywhere" because that might be too much skin barrier for your face--what if your face has oil glands that work perfectly well? What if we need a lighter, less occlusive moisturizer? That's where my personal hell was for the last ten years as I struggled to find a facial moisturizer I like! What if you have oil glands that are overproductive? You may need a totally different moisturizer than I need! No good way to figure it out except trial and error while paying close attention to ingredient lists.

Sunblock is also a good thing to have but as someone who doesn't wear it because a) I don't go outside and b) it always breaks me out, I feel hypocritical talking extensively about it. I wear "dad hats" (at least a 2" brim all the way around) and long sleeves while gardening. You should definitely still wear sunscreen, though. Do as I say, not as I do.

[justcallmesakira]

The reader looking so pretty at an event in the agency, co worker dazai can't help but stare at her :> make sum scenario :>

"I SEE YOUR PRETTY EYES AT MINE, MISTER~"

Sypnosis: Dazai just cant keep his eyes to himself when a colleuge of his is looking so darn pretty!

Dazai x fem! reader

Genre: suggestive, romance

Warnings: reader is sort of cheeky, suggestive as hell, implied alcoholism, author gave the reader on what attire shes wearing.

A/N FINALLY A REQUEST AFTER SO FUCKIN LONG

The agency had decided to hold another party in celebration of a huge deal which would help the agency .

And of course you were invited, almost everyone was. You decided to look extra pretty today because why not, not because of others but for yourself.

You had picked out a extravagant ebony coated frock which covered all the way up to your legs and ended with glistening white layers of laces.

The party was at 8 o clock, you had time plus what would you do getting there so early?

Gently tapping on the tubes of lipsticks you picked out a vermillion shade and smoothly applied the waxy substance on your lips. The colour suited the rose tied around your neck really well.

Finally adding some final touches you rushed out the door and walked along to the agency.

There were colourful lights and food everywhere, Atsushi teaching Kyouka how to make decorations, doctor Yosano taking a bit too much of wine, ranpo staring at powdered donuts... To think of it you remember him taking 5 of them sneakily one night and you wonder why hes so obsessed with them.

But one thing you could notice was a certain someones eyes on you... Dazai.

You walked up to atsushi and kyouka, talking to them and teaching them some tips and tricks to fit in with the agency.

You could feel at all times though, a certain pair of eyes glancing at you from time to time from the corner of the room.

"Excuse me, i will just fix my hair and come back" you politely end the conversation before walking towards the door and going outside.

Despite your heels clacking against the floor, you could feel another set of shoes following them.

"Dazai-san, may i know why i feel your eyes on my at all times?" you ask putting a perfect spot from the distance between your figure and the mans figure.

He chuckled.

"Bella, i must say your quite the smart one arent ya'?" osamu replies back with much cheekiness in his tone as yiu turned to him, he had a black tuxedo, a polished and refined one, it hugged his body quite tightly too.

You just sighed at his remark, he was a ladies man you knew but you have never seen the glint and love in his eyes on a girl ever before, it amde your stomach turn slightly in a good way, of course.

His teasing grin drops and turns into a more soothing smile as he walks over to you which makes you back towards the wall unsure whether to trsut him or not.

He lowers his head a bit to reach your face taking in all of it's features.

"Are you trying to woo me, dazai-san? It seems like it"

"Haaah, maybe. The thing is bella you just look so.." you expect him to give you some compliment like every boy does when they see a girl sitting pretty and all but instead he gently took a strand of your hair, took it to his lips and uttered every single quality and flaw about you, it was as if hes born to have a poets tongue with you being the muse.

"I just want to admire you all day, my darling. Its not lust nor a small crush, it isnt even close to love but something beyond the world and beyond the universe to attend to, i dont know i could drown in your eyes right now but i would prefer staring at them for an eternity as if its a gorgeous piece of art hung on a museum"

he said softly, oh god did this man made your heart drop down your stomach and melt into your intestines.

With each word he spoke through his charming voice, you could feel his breathe and hands going closer towards your sweating body and at last, he asked for your permission to which you only looked at him with a slight embroidery of embarrassment on your cheeks.

Dazai tenderly kissed your forehead but though it lasted short you wondered whether he tried to go for your lips instead because of the shift in his body.

"Oi, dazai and [Name] if your done with your cheesy af encounter than come back to the party! Presidents calling you two!"

Atlast after moments of intimate interaction which wasnt even intimate because of the silent yearn for something neither the two of you could preach. Both of you decided to go back to the party.

Later in the relationship you realised that your first kiss with this loverman was not the type of kiss those possessive men would do which would take your breathe away but more of a desperate one as if to reach out for something which one already got.

In the end nor dazai or you could just confess normally without making each other look like two pieces of magnificent artwork looking at each other.

A/N: i hate this more than dazai hates him self :(((((((( btw reader is wearing this dress

Divider crds! : @cafekitsune

Tags! : @inojuuy @silverbladexyz @atlasnessie @tsuunara @elizais @saelique @chuuyasboner @atzuhi @riiwrites @ruanais @biscuits-spooky-corner @rusmii

[huellitaa]

it girl autumn 🎃🎀🍁

autumn is upon us!!!!!!!!!! all hail the best season 💭🎀🍂🧸🩷

──★ ˙ ̟🎀ur autumn to do list

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ ur never too old for trick or treating (if u celebrate!). girl get OUT THERE. (🎀🗒️note: if u have any little siblings or cousins or family, then you can take them out trick or treating and celebrate w them js as an excuse to get outside!!)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ make pinterest boards for ur fav autumn movies and shows bcuz they cant do it themselves </3

🍂𓂃 ࣪˖ go collect leaves outside and make a pretty piece of art out of them

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ walk around early in the morning when its all foggy and pretty

🐇𓂃 ࣪˖ learn how to bake or cook (in my case anyway) OR look for some cosy autumn recipes to learn and share w ur loved ones or just to have a cosy night in and eat for urself♡

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ go thru ur closet and wardrobe and throw out all the old things you don't wear anymore. autumn is a time of change, after all (🎀🗒️note: make some cute autumn outfits while ur at it! ♡)

🎃𓂃 ࣪˖ drink every possible pumpkin spice drink u can find in ur area

🍂𓂃 ࣪˖ get out of ur reading slump! if ur in one anyway. if not then just read more books bcuz tea, rain and books is quite possibly the cosiest thing ever

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ visit a library alone, go shopping alone, just enjoy ur alone time. autumn is a time of introspection and a time to work on urself, and though i love spending time with myself in any season, autumn is especially cosy ♡

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ look at cute pumpkin designs and make one urself if u celebrate halloween ♡

🎃𓂃 ࣪˖ make some little halloween decorations if u celebrate ♡

💭𓂃 ࣪˖ build a little bug hotel out of twigs and leaves and things u find on the ground outside!!!!!! i used to do this all the time w my brother or my friends when i was little and its very nostalgic and fun ♡

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ take loads of pictures and make little vlogs and video diaries of ur autumn adventures, just for the memories ♡

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 music and media

🧁𓂃 ࣪˖ ur autumn playlist

clairo (charm, sling)

the 1975

florence & the machine (lungs)

the cardigans

the crane wives

neil young (harvest)

the smiths

phoebe bridgers

type o negative

kali uchis (never be yours)

gracie abrams

🍂𓂃 ࣪˖ movies and shows

the nightmare before christmas (obviously)

gilmore girls ♡

coraline, corpse bride, pretty much any tom burton movie

anne with an e

fantastic mr fox

hilda

gravity falls ♡

you've got mail

over the garden wall

pride and prejudice

jennifers body ♡

practical magic

little women

kiki's delivery service

arrietty ♡

howl's moving castle

lord of the rings ♡

and i always have a harry potter marathon every autumn because i loved it when i was younger, so why not!

(🎀🗒️note: i love playing identity v, animal crossing and cosy grove in the autumn too! or meeting up w friends and literally js playing board games theyre so fun♡)

──★ ˙ ̟🎀fall fashion and staples

okay so i personally love pink, whites, browns, cream colours and just general neutrals-pastels in the autumn, but you can adjust this to ur personal aesthetic and however you see fit!

the first thing i think of when i think autumn is layering. layer layer layer layer. tops and sweaters, cardigans, jumpers, leg warmers, tights; to keep you warm and pretty ♡

pay attention 2 fabrics! knitted, cashmere, fleece, flannel, all the cosy sorts are perfect for the autumn months ♡

patterns like stripes, leopard print, chevron, argle and plaid are so cute and simple, esp in october / november ♡

neutral colours, like beige, white, brown, cream, grey, black, and pale variants of colours too i think work so well esp in the autumn ♡

anything fur lined is absolutely adorable i rest my case

MASSIVE COATS. i have this big trenchcoat my mum had since i was a baby and i wear it EVERYWHERE in autumn ♡

boots are THE autumn shoes, bonus points if they're fur-lined. they just look so so cute ajdhfjsfjhsjf♡

knit hats and small hair accessories, bonus points if they're in the pretty autumn colours ♡

not really fashion but i love doing simple makeup in the autumn. just very dewy natural looks are pretty all year around, but especially in the fall ♡

🍂𓂃 ࣪˖ pretty fall fashion:

all my love... 💬🎀🫶🏻💗

[fragmented-king]

-_Vay-Cay_-

Stolas

Naturally, Stolas was the one who came to you with the idea.

He was going through your belongings one day, totally not trying to find and steal one of your soft nice smelling hoodies.

While looking around he found an old letter depicting a snowy mountain, humans skiing down its white slopes with "Winter 2002" written in the corner.

He flipped it around to find a note written by non other then, you.

"I just went skiing with some friends. It was nice, until someone messed up and slammed into me... Now my ankle is sprained... WORTH IT! I got to drink some bomb ass hot cocoa."

Stolas knew about snow, of course. But he never had the chance to experience it for himself, and he wouldn’t let this opportunity slip by.

He carefully puts it back in the envelope before continuing to look around. Next time he sees you he'll have to bring it up.

He finally finds what he came for a few seconds later. Quickly grabbing the hoodie from your bed then sprints out of your room making sure to clear any evidence he was ever there as he leaves.

Later that day he started planning a vacation for you two. Somewhere quiet, somewhere cold, somewhere snowy.

~~~~~

You're sitting on one of the many fancy couches in the palace when Stolas walks in a slight sense of worry emanating from him.

"Ahh there you are. I looked everywhere, I started to get worried after I searched your room and didn't find you or a text... I need to speak with you about something, may I sit?"

You nod and gesture to the spot next to you. He happily takes said spot and gets comfy before turning back to you.

"Dear, I've been wondering. Would you... Like to go on a vacation... With me? Everything is already planned. Transportation, protection, and food of course. All I need from you is a simple yes or no."

You sit there in silence thinking it over while he waits for your answer, he's staring a little bit.

After a moment going over it in you're head you agree, a vacation sounds nice. Even if all you do all day is laze about and receive love from a certain owl it wouldn't hurt.

~~~~~

You step through the portal, the chilly frost bitten air wasting no time trying to freeze you to your core, it fails however because of the twenty something layers Stolas made you wear.

You'll admit it's keeping you warm, but it also makes it hard to see... And walk...

You clumsily follow the owl through the snow covered mountainside eventually coming up to a grand looking cabin.

You turn to Stolas wondering if this is the place only to find him beaming at you, guess it is.

Once inside you take your time getting all the layers off while Stolas brews some hot cocoa.

By the time you're comfortable the sun starts going down. You're about to head to bed before Stolas stops you, asking you to join him for a bit.

You sit down with Stolas on two surprisingly comfortable wooden chairs, sipping hot cocoa and watching the sunset through a large wooden framed window, the high altitude of the mountain making the view more special.

It's cold and blue outside, but warm and orange inside. This really is a nice vacation. You should thank him when you're back home.

~~~~~

Stella

Convincing this avian royal to think of, non the less talk about the possibility of a ‘vacation’, is not an easy task.

It took you weeks of prying, prodding, and sometimes even begging to get Stella to consider it.

As right as it feels to congratulate yourself for getting her to consider it, only half your work is done. You still need to get her to go.

Once you finally convince her though, she goes from acting like she would never enjoy a vacation in a million years to acting like she waited forever for this.

The whiplash from her attitude's complete 180 might as well have broke your neck.

Sunscreen! Stella cannot emphasize this enough.

Your puny, spongy, soft human body will not be tainted by Earth's sun rays. And it's definitely is not just her trying to justify her rubbing your bare back, or down your sides.

She's 100% doesn't have ulterior motives, at all, why would you even say that?!

Though… If you did get sunburned, then she’d still get to rub that Aloe Vera all over you… Hmm…..

No! Your skin is far too pristine to be burned and roasted like that, no matter how tempting it is.

~~~~~

You arrive at the door to Stella's room, barely even knocking on it before it was swung open an ecstatic Stella greeting you from her well furbished room.

"There you are! I've been waiting for ages!"

She had a light blue sundress on. It hugged her curves well and you'd be lying to said you didn't stare a bit. All of that topped off with the largest wide brimmed sunhat you’ve ever seen.

You open your mouth to complement her appearance but are cut off by her dumping three giant, incredibly heavy bags in your arms.

"Let's get going, you wouldn't want to be late for our hotel reservation, now would you? And I've heard wonderful things about their wine."

Before you could so much as get a word in edgewise she starts dragging you off towards portal, all while you're struggling to get used to the weight of the bags.

While you walk she starts talking your ear off listing off all the activities she's planned for you two.

You nearly scoff at that. She's talking like she's the one who organized all of this. It's not like you spent multiple weeks planning and convincing her.

After a moment more struggling with the bags you catch up and step through the portal after her.

You're instantly hit in the face with a waft of heat, sun, and fresh ocean air. Despite the initial shock it's a nice change from the palace that you're oh so used to.

She gestures for you to follow then speed walks off towards the hotel leaving you with her bags, again. You're already tired, and you haven’t even gone to the beach yet.

~~~~~

After the workout that was getting Stella's luggage up to the room you and her finally relax on the beach together.

Not a single other person in sight. You turn to her calm but still a little confused.

"Where is everyone, an island like this should have tons of staff... Wait... Did you rent out this entire island?!"

She, not surprisingly laughed at that.

"Of course I did. I may be the prettiest girl you'll ever see but I'm still a demon. And, I thought that some alone time would be nice. No guards or servants. Just you, and me."

Mid sentence she interlocked her hand with yours while progressively getting closer. You lean forward for a kiss but feel a finger on your lips instead.

"You should know by now that you have to earn that darling. This is our first day here and you expect me to just give you whatever you want right off the bat. This may be a vacation, but that does not mean you get whatever you want instantly."

You frown and look away, it was such a romantic moment before she went and said all that. But, you're willing to work for it. You wouldn't be here sitting with her if you weren't.

~~~~~

Octavia

Good luck getting her to relax. She definitely needs it though, as this owl is stressed. I mean, she's got a lot of worries and she's a teenager, so you've got your work cut out for you.

That being said however, she's easily tricked into relaxing if you say the vacation is for you not her, and it wouldn't be the same without her there. That'll make her change her mind real quick.

Then once there, when she least expects it, you strike. Then before she knows it, she's feeling relaxed. Or at the very least a little better then before.

My professional opinion is to take her somewhere that is completely new to her, like nothing she's seen before if possible.

It'll help her forget her troubles easier. I recommend somewhere quiet with tons of greenery. And animals,

And stick around her, she wants consistency, and reliability. That mixed in with tons of quality time.

Just keep close to her if you can, try to make her have a good time, and most of all try and make it new to her.

Time away from the normal and melancholy is what she needs most.

~~~~~

You walk up to Octavia's door and knock. Nothing. You knock again. Also nothing.

You invite yourself in and see her laying on her bed staring at the ceiling, never a good sign.

You walk over and sit on the bed watching her snap out of it when the bed dips. She turns to look at you not moving much.

"Hey, you doing ok?"

She half sighs half groans then flips over to face you better.

"I'm fine."

You frown at that, 'I'm fine' is not a 'I'm actually ok' kind of answer.

"Rough day?"

"Just my parents, again... UGH WHY CAN'T THEY JUST BE NORMAL! Or at least not make their problems mine."

She flops back onto her back, going back to staring at the ceiling her expression shifting constantly as her mind works through her inner turmoil.

"Alright well. Were going on a vacation tomorrow so please remember to pack."

She groans again and flips over this time facing away from you.

"Do I have to... I mean I've told you a hundred times, I don't need a vacation... I just wanna stay home..."

You frown, again. You just gotta convince her to go. You can do that...

"It isn't for you. I want a vacation. And I want you to come, cause it wouldn't be the same without you."

You two sit in silence for a few moments before she groans extra loud. You're about to ask if she's alright before she suddenly gets up and walks into her closet.

You hear things being moved around and assume she's packing. So you'll leave her be, you've have to pack too anyways.

Before you leave you walk up to the doorframe of the closet, peak your head in just so she can see it.

"I love you."

You hear her mumble something along the lines of 'luv you too' before you turn to leave.

~~~~~

You quickly step out of the limo going around to Octavia's side to open the door for her. She quickly gets out before you can.

You know she doesn't like you doing that, but you're just trying to be courteous. Like usual.

Non the less you walk over and take her hand leading her into the medium to large house with a giant glass dome connected to one end.

"I thought you'd enjoy this place. It's a house built in the early 1900's. It has a giant greenhouse with hundreds if not thousands of plant types in it. Perfect place for a week away from home, I think."

You two go inside while some servants unload your things. You start showing her around, just little interesting things you learned from the homes owner.

You walk around for a while most stuff she doesn't react to, but have one more trick left. You pull out a small, old, metal whistle and blow into it. A moment later the dog of the house come padding in.

He's a large old golden retriever named Spike, who's lived here for years. You met him a few days ago to make sure he was friendly. He was, and you know Octavia's going to love him.

You watch her expression change from overall boredom to confusion then finally to a small smile when Spike walks up to her and rests his head against her side.

She look at him for a moment, then up to you clearly a little confused. You smile at her then walk over and start scratching behind his ear.

"His favorites spots are behind the ears, base of his tail, and his toe beans. Just be careful not to tickle him, he doesn't like that."

She cautiously crouches down and starts lightly scratching him behind an ear. You make sure nothing goes wrong then take a step back letting her enjoy some doggo time.

Yeah. She definitely needed this.

~~~~~

Started by Erratic-Sanguine, Finished by @jester089

Cheers Luv, we both appreciate it.

[ididntknowwhattocallthis]

Ok I wanna talk about Ethari's clothing/design over all. His clothes and tattoos are different from every other Moonshadow elf we've seen, and he's one of the few that doesn't wear braids. Like:

The recurring elements are intricate patterning; over layers and under layers; multiple colors in the same garment (or at least same outfit); wraparound construction, color contrast between mediums, lights, and darks; and the dominant color is always the medium, never the lightest or darkest color (usually navy, true black is very rare outside of the assassins). Even arc 2 Rayla follows most of these rules and she's been away from her culture for two years!

But then we have Ethari:

He doesn't have an outer layer, he wears almost solid navy, none of those clothes are wraparound, he has no light color, there's not a lot of contrast, and his dark color is true black despite not being an assassin. He bends all the rules, though he only breaks one completely. He still has that patterning, but it's minimal compared to the others. He has plenty of accent colors, more than anyone else actually, but they show up on him far less. He does have light, medium, and dark colors, but his whole pallet is darker than everyone else's. The only rule he 100% breaks is the wraparound construction

A lot of this probably derives from the fact that he's a metalsmith:

For the most part his clothes quite are practical;

Black/navy hides coal dust/soot very well. It gets everywhere, on your pants and face especially, and is highly visible on just about every other color.

Forging is hot work & you do it next to a fire that needs to be at least 1000° celsius, I never wear more than one layer either.

those sleeves, while a bit looser than I'd be comfortable with, probably aren't going to get in the way. Plus I heard somewhere that they're spelled to repel heat (couldn't find if that's actually canon tho), so if that's true they're much better than my gloves.

The crop top isn't great but he's got that belt to stop most embers. Besides he's probably not the type to yelp every time one lands on him like I am.

if he pulls the scarf over his mouth & nose it'll help delay him getting lung cancer in the death trap of a smithy Wonderstorm designed for him (my problems with it are a post all on their own. I have nothing against the artists, its pretty, but by all rights he should be dead)

There might also be a cultural aspect to his clothing:

I think the navy blue, the arm bands, the boot decorations, and his belt & tabard could all be symbols that mean "I am a metalsmith" in Moonshadow culture. (Quick side note, he's not technically a blacksmith. historically blacksmith means specifically iron workers. If anything he's a whitesmith since he usually works with silver.) We see it with the assassins, why not metalsmiths too?

Plus if you take a look at his forge in the art book, there's a design carved on it that looks almost exactly like the one on his tabard. Elements of it also appear on other parts of his clothing:

I suspect that this is some sort of symbol for metal working or fire protection. If he's in a guild it could be their symbol, or it could just be a wider cultural symbol. Either way it has a meaning that relates to the forge specifically. I couldn't find it anywhere else in the room.

I just realized that I never even brought up the metal hems on his sleeves. Then again what is there to say? It's metal, he's a metalsmith. It's pretty, he likes pretty things.

But what about the rule he completely breaks?

As I said, every moonshadow garment has some sort of wrap-and-secure construction to it-- except Ethari's clothes. I seriously doubt this is a metalsmith thing. Basic garment construction isn't a sensible way to differentiate your group within one culture. I fully believe Ethari is doing this on purpose. But why? That why gets even bigger when you realize that no other moonshadow elves we've met have brown eyes or periwinkle blue tattoos.

Put a pin in all that, I need to explain my interpretation of Moonshadow culture for this to make sense.

"Moon Primal creatures can be private and secretive, and are keenly aware of the power of appearances." - from the official website

"Moonshadow Elves obey a rather rigid, honor-driven culture." - from the wiki

To me this paints a picture of a fairly collectivist culture. They place a heavy emphasis on community and duty, two things that are usually more peaceful/simpler when you have cohesion within the group. Cohesion creates less conflict, less conflict makes your community more peaceful and your duty to it easier to complete.

But they know that this cohesion is- to an extent- only an act, so each person has a sub community where they don't have to act. Your inner self is for family and friends close enough to be family. (I honestly think they might have some sort of ritual to formally adopt friends as family) To everyone else you're supposed to put up a front that makes you seem more like everyone else.

OK back to the pin

Even without his clothes, Ethari is already visually different from everyone else. No other Moonshadow elves we've seen have tattoos or eyes the same color as his. It's a subtle difference but it is noticeable, and in a culture so focused on appearances people would notice. Most people's instinct would be to try to hide or downplay it, to prop up that front as much as they can. Yet Ethari doesn't put up a front, not to the extent that most people seem to. He's even accentuating his differences by dressing in a different style than them- and he's respected.

In my comm class the other day we were talking about groups, and one of the things that came up was that cohesion fosters sameness and diversity fosters innovation. Ethari is an innovator, it's literally his job. He invents the wingalings in bloodmoon huntress, Runaan and Rayla's weapons, and probably a bunch more stuff we haven't seen. Maybe for all they value appearances and fitting in, moonshadow culture still recognizes that people like him are important and they aren't as effective when they have to fit in. They can't be too out there (remember, Ethari only bends the rules rather than breaking them) but as long as they stay within a certain radius of the norm they can gain a lot of respect. I think this is what Ethari has done. The fact that his family (Runaan, Tiadrin, Lain) are all pretty traditional probably helped a lot. They keep him from pushing too hard on the edge of the box and he keeps them flexible.

That they aren't there anymore has probably exacerbated the rift between him and the rest of the silvegrove caused by Rayla's ghosting and whatever news has reached them from the storm spire.

I am so excited to see him in S6. I thought about adding some speculation about what his new design might look like, but I honestly don't think he'll have changed that drastically aside from his hair. My biggest question is honestly whether or not he's still in The Silvergrove.

Bonus:

I bet that some of Ethari's relative weirdness rubbed off on Rayla. She didn't have many friends as a kid so, when she wasn't in school or with the assassins, it makes sense that hung out with Ethari a lot. Since he's less strict than Runaan she was probably only comfortable completely unmasking with him. He heard about all her crushes, fears, and insecurities that Runaan didn't. Which goes a long way to explaining why Ethari was the only one who could see she wouldn't be a good assassin; she was hiding those traits from everyone but him.

This also explains some of why he was so willing to believe that she ran away. Ethari saw all of her vulnerability, but he didn't see all of her strength. While she was out training and facing her fears with Runaan, Ethari was in the smithy and only heard about their exploits after the fact. Neither of them saw all of who Rayla is, but both of them thought they did and had to find out that they were wrong in just about the most heartbreaking way imaginable.

[twiishaa]

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋‎♪ the house across the bridge kita x reader, wc 2.2k warnings not proofread, inspired by ghibli film ‘when marnie was there’, idk <3

when you moved to the country, you weren’t expecting to meet anyone your age— and you definitely weren’t expecting to fall in love with a boy who lived there. maybe this summer fling would last you forever… 

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 kita masterlist ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

—

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 THIS was the first summer you spent away from everything— the city, your parents, and, well, anything you knew. you’d come to spend the summer in the country with your aunt, which she so graciously offered after you told her about how much you wanted to do something new, something different. 

the train was long and uncomfortable, the seats stiff and the air stuffy. but outside, the view changed as you went from city to city, travelling further away. your aunt lived right on the outskirts of amagasaki, near the farms and green fields. as you began to enter the rural areas, the landscape shed its building skyline, and the concrete grounds were tenderly replaced with lazy fields bursting with crops and colourful flowers. it felt like an entire different world, leaving the city behind to enter the dream-like countryside. 

—

stretching your legs as you got off the train, you spotted your aunt almost immediately— she had a loving, maternal-like aura, always wearing a warm smile on her face. the city’s train station was small and slightly dirty, with only a few people populating it. 

before you could say hello, your aunt started squishing your cheeks. “my, [name], you’ve grown so much! the last time i saw you, you were tiny!” she said. 

you gave an awkward laugh. “thank you for letting me stay, auntie.” 

she shook her head. “no, the pleasure’s all mine. it’ll be nice having some company,” finishing her sentence, she gestured to a small, old-looking car. “should we get going?” smiling, you nodded. 

— 

“this was my old daughter’s room,” your aunt said while opening the door. “she moved out a while back, so it’s been free ever since. well, it’s yours for the summer now! feel free to make it feel like home,” looking around, you could tell it hadn’t been used recently— there was a small layer of dust on the furniture and the decorations were reminiscent of the trends from the last decade. 

this wasn’t too bad! flopping onto the bed, you decided to take a small rest before dinner, in a few hours.

—

the next few days had been uneventful. you helped your aunt around the house, then stayed in your room upstairs, spending most of the time admiring the stark contrast in landscape here. it wasn’t until one day, when you were cutting tomatoes for lunch, that something happened.

“have you been around the town yet? there are some nice places to see,” your aunt asked casually. stopping to look out the window at the midday sun, you replied,

“i haven’t yet. have you got any recommendations?” 

“oh, everywhere here’s nice!” she patted your shoulder as she passed you, carrying forks for the table. “tell you what. after lunch, you should walk around a bit! get some fresh air, it’ll be good for you too.” 

humming in agreement, you went back to cutting tomatoes. 

– 

after a few hours of getting to know the countryside town, you came across a small river, connected on either side by an aged wooden bridge. on the other side of the bridge, there was a house, surrounded by fields and fields of crops– you assumed it was a farm. 

but what was a farm doing in an isolated place like this? 

your curiosity got the best of you– taking a cautious look at your surroundings, you crossed the wooden bridge.

“hello?” a voice rang out from somewhere around you.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion; you must’ve been hearing things.

but the voice spoke again, this time closer to you. “are you lost? i usually don’t see anyone around here,” it said, tapping on your shoulder. letting out a sudden yelp, you stumbled backwards. 

“oh… sorry. i didn’t think anyone would be here,” you apologised, turning around to see who it was.

it was a boy– your age, probably, with straight white hair, but the tips were black– as if they were burnt, and his skin was just slightly tanned, probably from being in the sun. in some strange way, he felt like someone you’d known before, someone you knew very well. his face felt familiar, but you’d never seen him before. 

hm. how come you didn’t hear his footsteps? you brushed it off quickly. 

the boy laughed a little. “oh, no, don't worry about it. are you new around here?” 

you chuckled nervously. “yeah, could you tell? i live in tokyo, but i’m staying here for the summer.” 

“for the summer, huh..” he repeated, stepping back a little. “you’re from the city? that must be…”

“different?” you said at the same time as him. he looked a little surprised, but he dismissed it quickly. 

“it’s different, all right. not used to seeing fields and farmhouses like these around,” you commented, taking moments to gaze at the scenery around you. “do you live here?”

the boy laughed again. “yeah, i do.” walking towards the hose, he said, “hey, you’re interesting. i could show you around if you want?” following behind him, you replied, “that’d be great! i’m [name], by the way.” “oh, i’m kita. kita shinsuke– feel free to call me shinsuke or shin, i don’t mind.”

– 

one thing turned into another, and now you were helping kita harvest one of the rice fields. despite it being difficult, he somehow made it look effortless, like he was just lifting up a few feathers. it was attractive— in some strange way. as the sun hit its highest point in the sky, the heat poured down on you two, and the sun made kita’s figure glow. turning to look at you, he explained how to do it. “so, you grab it here, and then cut it as low as you can get to the roots.” hesitating a little, you took hold of a handful of rice plants from their middle and went to cut the roots. “like this?”

“yep– just,” kita put his hand over yours and moved it down a little. as he did, he moved a little closer to you subconsciously. he smelled like the rice fields– earthy, warm, and slightly sweet; you held your breath when you felt his breath fan on your shoulder. 

“-like that.” he finished. 

“okay, so now i,” you let out the breath you were holding earlier. “just… cut it? like that?” you asked, while cutting off the roots. 

kita took hold of the crops and beat them on the side of the basket before putting them in. “you’re a natural, [name], have you done this before?” 

watching what he did, you went to cut another bunch. “i haven’t, no. and im sure im not that good,” you replied, embarrassed. 

–

slowly, you got into a rhythm, and kita started conversing with you a little more.

“so, what’s it like? the city, i mean,” he looked at you. 

feeling his eyes on yours, you blushed a little. “different. really different. i mean here, there’s a lot more… green, whereas over there, everything is just buildings and buildings…” 

kita focused on the crops again. “oh. so what do you do over there?” 

“oh, usually i just go on my phone, or something– there’s not much to do,” you replied, finding it a little boring just talking about your life. “so, shin, what’s it like living here? is it not lonely?” 

after hearing his name, kita’s head perked up. “hm? oh,” he looked a little embarrassed. 

“oh, should i not call you that? sorry.” “no it’s fine! im just.. not used to hearing it much, thats all. it gets lonely here sometimes, but it’s alright.” kita replied, banging the plants on the basket again.

it had been a good few hours, and you were getting tired. you stepped back from the line of crops, and kita did soon after. 

“that’s so tiring! how do you do that all day?” exasperated, you asked. “doesn’t it get hot?” 

kita sighed, and wiped the sweat off his forehead– it was causing his bangs to stick. you thought it was cute.

“it does get tiring. hey– i know a place where there’s some shade,” running the first few steps, he looked back to see if you were following. “if you wanted?” 

–

the place kita was talking about was a flower field, not too far from the farms. in the corner was a tree, its branches big enough to span over the entire field. resting on the trunk, kita sat down– you flopped onto the grass next to him. 

“it’s nice having someone my age here, finally,” kita said. up until now, you didn’t realise how pretty his voice was. it was calming, and gentle; you could listen to it all day. 

“hmm? same here, i thought i was gonna be alone,” you laughed– kita laughed with you. 

resting his head on the massive trunk, he continued, “doesn’t help you’re really pretty too. feels like im like, teaching a princess, or something.” 

hearing that, your heart suddenly skipped– the heat did well to hide your flushed cheeks. 

“if it helps,” you started, just loud enough for kita to hear, “i think you’re pretty too. and really sweet– im glad im not alone this summer,” flashing a short smile, you closed your eyes and soaked in the moment. 

it was comfortable, lying with kita here. 

– 

you quickly fell into a routine during the summer– it was the same thing every day, but it felt different each time over. you’d help your aunt and chat with her up till lunch, then you’d meet kita and hang out with him until the sun started to set. your feelings towards him only blossomed more over the course of the holidays– like a flower bud. you two would talk about anything and everything, or just lie next to each other, basking in the sunlight. whenever you crossed the little wooden bridge, you felt lighter on your feet, as if you were in a fantasy land. and to be honest– that’s what it was like– you’d come to the country for the summer and fallen in love with a boy who lived in a completely different world to you. the farms were almost like a time capsule, stuck in the simpler, pre-industrial world. 

sometimes, you thought about leaving everything behind for kita, but you knew better. you knew your family were waiting for you back home, and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave them behind for a boy you just met– you knew even kita’d say no. 

so, you surrendered to the ever-moving, fleeting nature of time. 

and soon, it came time to leave.

– 

today was your last day seeing kita. you were waiting underneath the same tree, staring out at the endless flower fields. 

“hey,” you heard kita from behind you. this time, you didn’t get scared. turning around, you studied his features one last time. 

“hi.” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him properly– it just brought tears to your eyes. 

gently grabbing hold of your chin, kita lifted your head to look at him. “don’t cry, please, you’ll make me cry,” he said, his voice softer than usual. using both hands, you held onto his arm. 

“i know, i know but…” your voice came out a little choked, small sobs making their way through. “i’m gonna miss you, shin,” you whispered, your voice cracking a little. 

letting go of your chin, he closed the distance between you two with a hug. you just sobbed into his shoulder. 

“i’ll never forget you, shin,” you said, muffled. 

“me neither.” he broke the hug to give you something. 

“here, that photo we took during the sunset. i printed two out so that we could both keep one.” taking one, you put it in your phonecase. “thank you,” you managed to say before your aunt rang you on your phone. 

you both knew this was it. the flower field here would forever hold your memories together, even when you were apart. taking one last look at the field, and then at kita, you walked off. if you said anything now, you wouldn’t be able to handle it– you both knew that. 

kita whispered under his breath, “i’ll see you later, my love.” having barely heard what he said, you looked back to ask, but he had already disappeared. 

– 

in the car ride to the train station, you made conversation with your aunt. 

“thank you for letting me stay for so long, i had such a good time.” 

she laughed. “sure, feel free to come back whenever you want. did you make any friends?” 

friends– you thought of kita. smiling, you answered,

“yes i did– the boy who lives in the farmhouses?”

your aunt looked confused. “[name], there aren’t any farmhouses around here. maybe it’s some other house? did you get his name?” confused, you carried on describing to her. “the farmhouses across the bridge…” pausing, your aunt replied again. “oh, those.. no one’s lived in those for years now…” she sighed. “there was a boy your age a few years ago, but he died of tubercolosis. poor boy…” 

you blinked rapidly. kita wasn’t— what was he?

a ghost? it kind of made sense; his white hair, his lack of presence, and how the world felt… surreal on the other side of the bridge.

but the feelings you felt were real. when he hugged you, it was real. there was something there between you two— a pure love, seemingly powerful enough to transcend time. it didn’t make sense to you; but all that mattered was those moments. 

he said to you, “i’ll remember this forever,” but it seemed it was just you who remembered. and you’d hold onto this summer forever. 

note first longfic EVER (longfic = >1.5k okay) oh my gosh. why do i actually kinda like this..... @phantasmaebg

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ like what you read? here’s the masterlist! ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

[sammyboyimagines]

Summer W/...Headcanons

These are some summer-themed headcanons for Eddie Munson! It will include both fluff and some smut, so MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY.

This is mostly for fem readers but I can make one for gender-neutral readers as well.

Eddie is not one for warm weather. As a man who wears many layers, he finds it unbearably hot once the temperature rises above 70 degrees.

It is a rare sight to see Eddie with a ponytail. He mainly wears it down but he knows you find it adorable when he uses one of your hairbands to tie his hair up. He especially wears his hair up on hot days, refusing to have his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead in the summer heat.

Speaking of summer heat, Eddie lives for pool days. If you have a pool at your place, you better believe he'd be knocking on your door every day to jump in the refreshing water.

But that's not the only reason he likes pool days. Seeing you in your bikini and having the privilege of rubbing your body down with sunscreen, he was in heaven.

"Eddie, can you get my back, please?" You handed him the bottle of sunscreen, blind to the obvious lovesick look in his warm brown eyes. "With pleasure, m'lady." He retorted with his typical nerdy responses. It never bothered you though, because it was one of his cute quirks.

Eddie is shockingly pale during the summer. Every time he steps outside for more than an hour at the most, he comes back inside with skin as red as a lobster.

Which prompts you to rub aloe on his sunburn and listen to his whining when the sensitive skin burned throughout the day.

"Eddie, quit whining, please! I'm trying to get some sleep." You turn onto your side in your bed to glance at him as he lay face down to avoid laying on his sunburnt back. "But it hurts so bad!" His muffled voice could barely be heard through the pillow, making you laugh. "Sorry baby, I tried telling you you needed sunscreen!"

Speaking of, Eddie constantly pushes you away when you offer him sunscreen. "I need a tan anyways." "You always do this, you're gonna get a horrible sunburn!" "And you always give me special treatment, all the more reason to get burnt!" He smiled at you as you slapped his shoulder.

If you're a fan of ice cream, Eddie loves to go get ice cream with you. He'll take you to the nearest ice cream joint on particularly hot days as if it were tradition. "Maybe we could skip ice cream today?" You propose, eager to get home and spend some alone time with him. A pout appeared on his face. "But...we always get ice cream? What do you mean?" He was absolutely devastated. "How about instead of ice cream, we go to my place and turn on a movie. My parents aren't home, and I can think of a good way to beat the heat..." As you hinted at your intentions, you slowly slid one strap of your tank top down your shoulder. Eddie's eyes widened in realization. "Yeah-uh we should definitely skip the ice cream, what was I even thinking?" He made it home after speeding through the town.

Eddie had never been to the beach before he met you. It just wasn't something that he or his uncle could afford. The road trip was long, but Eddie was prepared. He brought a mixtape of his own, with all his favorites on it. "Seriously Eddie? Is this all Metallica, Dio, and Iron Maiden?" You had only heard the vocals of the three bands so far. "Yup, only the best for a ride with you, sweetheart." Though his words pulled at your heartstrings, you were still confused about the little variety on the mixtape.

Speaking of the beach, Eddie quickly found out that he was not very fond of sand. "Jesus Christ there's sand fucking everywhere." Eddie brushed off the excess sand from his time at the beach, annoyed by the grainy texture touching his skin.

Eddie hates summer, but he tolerates it because he gets to spend more time with you.

For example, when Wayne is out for the day, Eddie will turn the heat up in the trailer if he knows you'd be coming by. "Jesus Eddie, is your air conditioning broken?" You fanned yourself mere minutes after stepping into the trailer. He just shrugged at you, keeping himself from smiling at your discomfort. You slipped off your tank top, leaving you in your bra and shorts. This was exactly what Eddie had been waiting for. "I don't notice the heat." He was lying straight through his teeth, and you caught on quick. "You just want to see my tits, Munson." "Damn right, sweetheart."

Eddie often uses the heat as an excuse to get away with things. "Sweetheart, please? It's hot outside and you know how I feel about the heat making my hair frizzy" Eddie was begging for you to wash his hair yourself. He used the guise that it was all frizzed out and sweaty from the humid day but really he wanted your soft hands touching him, gently scratching his scalp until he was practically asleep in your presence.

If you have a summer birthday, Eddie takes extra time to make your day memorable since he has more time after school ends. Eddie plans a whole itinerary for your special day. Ice cream, pool party, cold drinks, and sweet music; Eddie went the whole nine yards for you.

Something you both do that annoyed the hell out of Wayne is open the door repeatedly, going in and out at all times during the day. One of you would go in for a drink, then 10 minutes later the other would come in to cool off, etc. Finally, he'd had enough and told of the both of you. "Uh uh, no more of this shit! You're either staying in or staying out, stop letting the cool air out!" He firmly told you. As he walked away, the both of you erupted in a fit of quiet laughs at the situation.

On a dirtier note, the summer air brings out a different side of Eddie. He's doting on you more, and he's extremely needy for you. His hands are on you, your waist, your hands, your thigh, etc. He loves feeling your warm skin under his hand or pulling your clothing off when neither of you can keep your hands to yourself.

Also, pool sex is a must for Eddie. The pool in your backyard became one of Eddie's favorite spots to hang out during the summer. Watching you in your bathing suit all day? Priceless.

That's all I got for now, thank you!

[buckrogers]

Sit With Your Ghosts A While by @buckrogers

Note: So, I initially started writing this while the celebration for 10 years of TWS was going on thinking I'd submit it, but then I found myself not really feeling the cohesion in the pieces, but I do still like them/it as vignette snapshots into Steve's life before Bucky's return/the events of TWS really kick off. So since it's just sitting there rotting away in my drafts, I figured I'd post it on my blog for what it is. Rating: Maybe just barely PG if you squint. Pairing: Steve/Bucky, Steve/Peggy allusions again if you squint Words: 1122

I.

Steve's made a point not to talk with ghosts.

Not even ones in the shape of people he misses, the ache of their absence stretching out, unspooling endlessly before him.

It was a deal he made with himself after his ma had passed and everywhere around him, he could still feel her. Her presence lingering the way someone’s did when they'd just put their coat on and stepped outside.

Hey ma, he'd wanted to confide, to press comfort across that divide that had never seemed so distant, not to Steve, not after so many nights toeing the line between himself; hauled back at the precipice only by Bucky's fingers, curled around his thin wrist. His breath puffing hot against Steve’s skin, where he'd fallen asleep on watch.

You don't got to worry. You rest easy, okay.

II.

Sometimes, though, when the nights feel long enough - he lets the ghosts in.

He dreams of Bucky's bare back, the curve of it, the notch of each vertebra in his spine when he bent forward to unlace his boots that Steve had desperately wanted to reach out and trace but never dared to because it meant crossing that threshold, taking all that deep pressed longing Steve had woven into himself over the years and turning it loose, making it something tangible that they’d have had to figure out how to deal with back before either one of them had a clue.

About a lot, but especially about that.

I wanted to, he tells those eyes, when he conjures their likeness in the dark, caught in some complicated expression, a twist of frustration; all that banked affection he knew Buck held inside him bleeding through.

I'm sorry I didn't - I'm sorry I couldn't –

I should’ve reached further.

The ghost at the foot of his bed stays silent, expression unreadable in the early dawn light.

III.

He wakes to silence.

The hum of appliances. The kick of the radiator turning on. The near constant thrum of traffic outside his window.

The stutter-step of his own existence that feels so out of sync with all he remembers, like a lingering sourness in his mouth. It's a chemical burn, he can feel it peeling away layers, stripping him down the more time that passes.

Steve isn't sure what would be found if they dug right to the core of him.

Something frozen, he estimates. Frozen as the arm he pictures reaching for him from the bottom of a ravine, even after all this time.

IV.

There's a nurse living across the hall from him.

She puts herself in his path just frequently enough, wearing scrubs and balancing a basket of laundry on a hip that he lingers over whether to ask if she has time for coffee. It seems a simple enough gesture, one that speaks to the soul of a nurse’s son.

Bucky would’ve known how to go about it.

He'd’ve slipped into warm smiles and bedroom eyes without missing a beat. You gotta lay it on a little sweet, Stevie, chest puffed full of that ridiculous bravado that should have been too much but somehow swam perfect in the lines of his suit, twinkled in those grey blue eyes. Just enough to make 'em want to come back around for more but not so's much they get attached.

He can see Bucky at fifteen, at eighteen, cocky and assured, throwing wide grins over his shoulder at Steve.

Trouble is, he also sees Bucky as he was after Azzano. The dark circles gouged under his eyes. The haunted quality of the smiles he'd throw out, doing his level best to pretend everything was the way it used to be. Just fine pal, just fine.

Steve remembers the intensity of his eyes on him, after Peggy had walked out of the bar that night, wrapped in victory red.

He doesn't ask, in the end.

His smiles remain painfully constrained. Caged within the safe parameters of neighborly chitchat.

V.

"Hey, Cap."

Rumlow's broad shoulders fill the doorway, members of the S.T.R.I.K.E team milling about behind him, waiting without being too obvious about it. They've changed out of their tactical uniforms, and Rumlow looks alarmingly casual without it.

"Taking the boys out for a post mission drink. Come take a load off, big guy."

Steve pauses with his hands on the locker door. He turns over the ramifications, searching for hidden pitfalls. There’s nothing. His smile almost stalls but finds a gear at the last minute. "Next time, fellas."

"Sure,” Rumlow taps the wall twice. “Next time."

He's not sure even he buys it as the truth.

VI.

"Surely you have better things to do with your evenings than spend them here."

Steve squeezes her hand gently. "What? And miss out on seeing my best girl? Not a chance."

Peggy’s eyes gleam at him, she’s having one of her good days. They’re focused. Sharp as a tack. "Hm,” she speculates openly and sets her hand over his. There’s a life lived in the lines on it, the fragile folds around her knuckles. "I have missed you so terribly."

"Well,” he musters, smiling to dampen the hurt, “I'm here now."

VII.

He finds himself pulled like an ocean tide to the museum, cap low over his head; hands tucked in jacket pockets, letting the sight of old friends looping on screen wash through him like a balm to the sleepless nights, the creeping awareness of moving with his back turned on time. It was a thought he'd had before, that he couldn't readjust himself to point in the right direction anymore; his true north was fixed.

It remained doggedly pointing behind him, like a shadow. (Like a ghost).

Tangled up in memories of Brooklyn summers and a familiar sly voice calling to him but stubbornly, firmly out of reach.

There's still enough here, wandering through a monument to his past; studying reels of old footage, that tether the hook beneath his rib; that call out to his bones.

Steve winds up staying a while.

VIII.

He dreams of monsters, swarming through a tear in the sky. Sees Tony Stark falling, endlessly plummeting toward the ground.

When he pries off the iron mask, Bucky is staring up at him, repeating his name and rank.

His lips are blue.

IX.

Fingers of dawn creep over the horizon, chasing down the sound of his footsteps.

There’s a solitude to running at this hour Steve appreciates, the world hushed at the precipice of the day, before all the ghosts are vanquished from their respective corners and put away to be dealt with later.

He doesn’t take his with him, but he knows they’ll keep.

Maybe, just maybe – he’ll sit with them a while, too.

[mechalily]

fir branches, tied with red cord.

hello everyone! this writing is a secret santa present for precious @lovely-rubeum, who's works are a must-read for Thoma fans.

(🍂) tags: fluff (flashbacks), angst (currently), small age gap (2 years), fem!reader.

(⭐) spoiler tags: abandoment.

„ ♪ Last Christmas I gave you my heart, but you gave it away the very next day..“ New Year songs could've been heard everywhere. Layers of snowy crystals covered roofs and columns, fences and street lamps, making the light fuzzy. It's been six months since you left your homeland and went to university in another city. Yes, unlike your quiet little town with no kind of gaities and very few inhabitants who all knew each other, the city had much more to offer: wild parties every night, tons of cafes and restaurants, huge 20-floor shopping centers and different varieties of professional paths to follow. But your heart belonged to the calm peace of the town, soft sunbeams in the mornings, endless pinkish sky with plum-colored fluffy clouds — such dear memories were engraved in your soul. And, of course, your constant source of warmth whenever loneliness of an outsider hit you too hard was your childhood friendship with Thoma.

Thoma, who's hair reminded you of straws, who's green eyes shined brightly, who's genuine smile painted your cheeks with a prominent blush. Although you never communicated since he moved, reminiscence of your innocent tender bonds was still precious to you. 

"Does he even remember me?" you wondered at times, looking up at the sky, gazing upon stars, so close yet so far, just like Thoma himself.

You were 7, he was 9. He was a "big boy" with responsibilities much bigger than yours. His family wasn't very financially stable: the father went missing two years ago, the mother worked two jobs so she appeared at home just to sleep and to cook something for her son, who also worked hard everyday, mowing lawns and walking dogs in order to get some money.

Your family was totally opposite. Huge inheritance allowed your parents to live as they pleased, going on trips every year and spoiling their beloved daughter — you — with tons of clothes, toys and sweets. At times, when you acted capriciously, your mom scoldingly reminded you of poor Thoma.

"Honey, you shouldn't take everything for granted. You are living a very comfortable life, unlike some people who weren't born that lucky. Think of the neighbor’s boy! Only two years older yet already working. Behave and take an example"

You sobbed yet didn't start crying in rage like you always did. After all, mom was right. Sometimes, on snowy winter evenings, you could see Thoma from your balcony. He cleared snow with a shovel twice his size. You never saw him playing with other kids or doing silly things natural for his age. Actually, he didn't have friends at all due to being constantly busy.

Christmas arrived, and your parents showered you with gifts on this occasion. Wearing new boots, cute hat and a coat, you went out into the yard to build a snowman. You saw a glimpse similar to a dark spot on a pure white snow. It turned out to be Thoma, dressed in some rags — the boy carried heavy packages, which was visibly difficult for him. 

"Lemme help ya," you volunteered out of nowhere, grabbing a package's strap. 

"You sure? It's heavy..." he hesitantly mumbled.

"I'm billion percent sure. Let's be friends!" you blurted out, steam curling out of your mouth. 

Thoma froze in place. It was the first time ever anyone suggested to befriend him. You two were breathing heavily, dragging bundle along the street in quietness. You started feeling worried due to him keeping silent, but suddenly cheery voice interrupted the hush:

"Sure, let's be friends! What's your name?" Thoma smiled widely, exposing teeth. 

You introduced yourself, and that was the day your life has entirely changed.

You were 11, he was 13. Even after enrolling into middle school and making friends with his peers Thoma still valued you the most. He picked you up after classes, treated to home-made meals, played games with you and helped when it came to studying. School wasn't easy for him. Working part-time and taking care of his mother in a hangover took all of his free time. Thoma expected you to dump him: after all, he was unable to go to cafes and amusement parks, buy you gifts and share candies. He couldn't endure your saddened face and pouty cheeks without heart ache whenever he told you he wouldn't have time to go play with you.

But what Thoma did not expect was you acting on the contrary. 

"Oh, you are such a good boy!" your mother giggled, patting his head. You invited him to a sleepover in your house every week, and he finally gained an opportunity to shower in warm water, eat a proper dinner and not some semi-finished products thrown in one plate, sleep for full 8 hours..Your parents were incredibly kind and caring, considerate yet never intrusive. Here, in your place, Thoma felt loved, loved unconditionally. You two enjoyed your cocoa with marshmallow, cooked slightly crooked gingerbread and decorated the Christmas Tree all together. 

“Who do you think you will be in the future, Thoma?” you asked one evening, when two of you were busy with baking a pie. 

“Uh, wait, wait a second! One last thing… Here,” he spread out dough strips, “closing” the pie. “Who will I be in the future, you said? Ha-ha, to be honest.. I don’t really know. I hope I’ll work with kids or manage domestic stuff, cuz I enjoy doing it,” he chuckled, fixing his apron. “Hey, you are all in flour! Give me a second, I’ll wipe it off,” the boy reached out to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and swiped the flour away. His touch sent shivers down your spine, as if you got hit with electricity. 

“And who do you think you’ll be?” Thoma questioned.

“Hm… I want to become a teacher one day. Or a doctor,” «or your significant other», you added mentally. 

“You are so hard-working, I’m sure you’ll succeed!” he smiled encouragely and patted you on the shoulder. 

You were 14, he was 16. From shy and ordinary guy Thoma became popular, quick-witted and got admired for his nice sunny personality. You, on the other hand, had grown up reserved and quiet. That, whatsoever, didn’t break your friendship. 

“Hey, pumpkin, forgetting your lunch box becomes a habit!” 

Of course you recognized this upbeat voice. Who else would’ve called you a pumpkin? 

When you turned your gaze up to your desk, there was a cute box in sight and widely smiling blond. 

“Aww, come on, Thoma, you didn’t have to!” you sighed dramatically, although internally you were screaming, feeling flattered from such solicitude. 

“I have to, because I care about your health, silly,” he gently ruffled your hair, avoiding ruining your hairstyle. “Let’s have a meal before lunch break ends, okay? I’ll stay here with you, no worries, we won’t go to the cafeteria,” he added immediately after noticing barely evident hints of your anxiety.

“...thanks, Thoma. Let’s see what you’ve prepared for me,” with that, you opened the box.. and your heart started pulsing like you have run a marathon.

Absolutely adorable salad with different vegetables, cut in some cute shapes. The dedication and efforts, invested in this dish, were obvious. You nearly teared up. No one has ever did something like that for you. 

“H-hey, is everything alright? You’ve turned pale…” Thoma asked in concerned tone.

“No, no, not at all! It’s just so sweet of you.. Thank you so much. I can’t make myself eat such masterpiece..”

“Hold on, kid! You need to eat, otherwise I might spoon feed you,” once in a while Thoma acted mischievously, and you couldn’t predict this behavior. He was never mean, of course, but teasing certainly had a place in moments like this. 

“And how about feeding me from mouth to mouth, huh?” you teased him back with a sly grin.

Thoma reddened: the color of his face was similar to the color of his jacket.

“Ah-ha-ha… You are quite naughty, aren’t you?” you could feel the heat emanating from his body. 

“And what if so?” you cheekily raised your eyebrow.

“I assume a kiss will be able to erase this smirk from your face,” the boy tried to get his composure back, but failed miserably, stumbling his words and awkwardly fidgeting.

“Try it, so we could discuss the truthfulness of your statement”

“Um… maybe next time, ha-ha…”

To Thoma’s luck, the bell rang, so he ran out of the classroom, leaving you alone and flustered.

“Don’t forget to eat, pumpkin!”

Since that day you two have never brought up this accident, even though having lunch with Thoma became a daily routine. 

You were 16, he was 18. He was embracing you tightly, despite the uncomfortable proximity under the boiling sun. 

“I’ll miss you, pumpkin,” he mumbled, and you could tell he was being honest — every wrinkle, every muscle of his face depicted the dreary sorrow of parting. Even though his 12 years old Nokia phone still worked, you heavily doubted it would function properly. Yet you still hoped for the best.

“Thoma, dear.. Please, call or text me as soon as possible. It’s dull without you,” tears flowed on their own, and you couldn’t help it.

Suddenly you sensed some soft sensation against your skin. There was no need to look up to understand what was it. You closed your eyes and indulged in bubbly pleasure.

Thoma was your first best friend.

Thoma was your first Valentine, though you both considered it to be a friendly one.

Thoma was the first person apart of your family to cook for you.

Everything important in your life was about him.

And now, he granted you your first kiss.

“I love you,” his green eyes watered just like yours. “When I graduate, I’ll come back for you. Do you agree?”, you grabbed his calloused hands and squeezed them.

“Yes. Yes, of course”

Two years have passed since then. There were no news from Thoma nor texts or calls. He simply disappeared from the world. Both of his parents rested in peace, and they didn’t have any relatives, so wondering about his fate was all you’ve got to do. Your messages never got delivered. 

“Sorry, the number you dialed does not exist,” you heard this voice line so many times it annoyed you to no end. You cried out of frustration, you felt numbness and anger, and finally, you accepted the entire situation. 

Maybe he dumped you.

Maybe something happened to him.

You won’t know until his studying finishes. 

Graduating from high school, passing exams, enrolling into university — you went through everything all by yourself with support from your parents.

Sipping coffee and sinking in your unhappy thoughts, you didn’t pay attention to any of the cafe visitors — after all, it was way too far from yor home, there was no chance to meet your countryman.

With the bell tickle, which announced the emergence of new client, loud fast speech could have been heard:

“Yoimiya, I’m so sorry! I left my place on time, it’s just that traffic accident with a mongrel dog occured, I had to take poor animal to the vet-”

This voice.

You stared upon the guest in disbelief. 

Blond hair. Red coat. Black bandana which looked like horns. Pitiful smile. Green eyes.

“Oh, dear God, Thoma! Is everything okay? Is the doggie alright?! Ugh, how could this be?..” fair-headed young lady came out of the stall and jumped forward the man.

“Wait,” he shook his head as if he was trying to get rid of weird delusions. But that was not a delusion. 

“Is this…” his voice lowered to husky whisper, eyes widened in shock.

“...Thoma?” you stood up on shaking legs.

[3mutantsinatrenchcoat]

It takes a village to raise a family part 4

Part 3 , part 5

Rural au, once again, by the amazing @angelpuns

Tw: this short contains descriptions of late stage hyperthermia and brief hints at death during a talk

My husband has 3 rules during the winter. "Wear warm clothes, don't drink or eat anything cold, and do not walk outside unless you can see light".

Well, one fine winter my husband fell sickly ill, along with my youngest. Not only where they on my mind so where the young turtles, little Leo would wander from the rest, Mikey as excited as ever to be in town, so much so his eyes where a guide that never stayed on path...little Donnie whose own body couldn't stand on its own and little raph as head strong as a bull.

The last thing I remembered before stepping into the snow storm was shoving my feet in my boots, I had no time for socks. Throwing on my coat, I had no time for layers. The slam of the door as the wind argued it's point against me, but I would not listen. I was out of medicine and time.

Then there was cold, and wind, and white everywhere. I couldn't see more than two feet ahead, we didn't have many storms in the winter.

I could barely make out lights of lanterns inside houses, stumbling as my feet sunk into the snow. At some point I remember tripping a lot, feeling like hands were grabbing at my ankles, wrapping around my boots.

I don't remember much, but I do remember hearing shouting not far from me. I remember when the cold started to warm. And then it got hotter...and hotter. My cloak was too warm, I was wearing too much. I would roast in this weather.

I remember just barely pulling off my cloak before it got snatched right back over my head, a gruff and angered voice shouting at me to keep it on. Burning hot hands touching both sides of my face. "let go-!"

I don't even think I could hear my voice clearly, but I heard his just fine. "no! You are coming inside with me!" It was a demand, no room for argument, stomping of feet and creaking of wood I knew to be a porch, a specific porch with specific creaky spots.

I remember how i barely felt being lifted, I could barely feel the shoulder I was on if it wasn't for how warm it was. I barely remember the chatter of the turtle boys.

Then, time went past with every blink.

The bright of fire, the crackling, the burning feeling.

The way the kids looked as I kicked and fought their father over a blanket, shaking and biting. The way metallic tasted on my tongue as I snagged his hand.

I would blink again and I had a cup in one hand, Mikey's in the other, Splinter pulling away snow from my fur with gloves, tossing it into a bucket that Raph watched from behind. "I know it's hot, it's okay, let it burn. I know it's burning let it burn" I could barely feel the tears that froze to my face pulling off my fur.

I would blink again and now Donnie and Leo where at another side, rambling about some book from the market, Splinter's warm hands cupped around my ears. "Pay attention to those words Flint!" A snappy voice laced with anger and fear. A demand, a protest.

And then it was as if time got slower, the boys all curled up asleep and Splinter staring at me, sitting on the floor. "...your eyes. You paying attention?"

"mm.." i barely moved my head and the room was blurring again, tears building up.

"alright...keep...keep talking to me...keep on talking.." he got up and then I felt warm on the side of my face. I couldn't help the noise that came out, or the burning hot tears that flooded out afterwards.

"I know..I know it burns.."

"augh!" It felt like I was boiling from the inside and burning from the outside, the heat from the fire, the boys and Splinter was uncomfortable..even more uncomfortable once I saw my fingers move but I couldn't feel it.

"s-splin-..splin-ta-..I- I can't-" it felt like my throat was tightening, but Splinter sat beside me and pulled me into his side. He didn't say another word, not until my crying had stopped and all I could let out was Shakey breaths.

"...you really are an idiot..." Splinter spoke, not with anger but something I've never heard in his voice before.

"wh...what?" When I turned to look at him, his eyes were lost from reality...really...glossy and sad looking.

"why did you go out...? It's storming and you are little- not only that you-..you nearly froze-"

"...my family is sick..your boys c-could have gotten sick...I-i was out of medicine.." the shame flickered inside my chest, only to be drowned out but a laugh. One of both mockery and disbelief. Eyes wide and filled with shock in this human's eyes.

"Flint, you sound like a buddy of mine..." His voice was filled with anger and mournfulness. "you know, I was a soldier..." He starts, glancing to see if I was paying attention, of course I was. I could listen to him forever.

"...we had a mission, one day. It was snowing that day, we had to rescue our medics.." He went silent, then he shook his head slightly, blinking away at some thoughts that I would never get to hear. "...they got too warm, just like you. We didn't bring back our medics"

"...I don't...i-.." it clicked and the cold that washed over was worse than anything I had felt before. The more I think about it the more I realize I barely know Splinter. He's my neighbor, I help with his kids and he built me a pump for water. We learned to cook for our family, yet we never shared stories...well. I did, Splinter didn't.

There was more to him than I would ever understand, but...for now....

I felt him jump as I put my head against his side, moving my tail to cover his hand, situated in his own lap...now that I saw it, it was soaked, and trembling..or well I was trembling...but it was nothing compared to the slump that Splinter gave. One that meant he understood the gesture.

That no matter what I would always, be here to listen.

[mycaptain]

With the Seasons

Chapter one- First Snow

Jiggling the doorknob and bracing my body against the door, I finally muster up the strength to push and get the door to work as a door is supposed to. Faced with a blinding white, and the harsh cold I begrudgingly begin to trudge through the snow that is now about halfway up my shin. I wrap my arms around me and stick my hands into my underarms to try to warm up the already numb digits. With the dark being chased away by the playful sun I begin to wonder to myself. What the hell am I doing? And why did I agree to meet Ethan so early?

I continue on, making heavy steps and trying not to fall. By the time I reach the road the sun has already broke, and the moon is sleeping. Once my feet hit the road, I begin to take off running. As I feel the wind whip around my face, and my scarf starts to slide I silently thank whoever got up so early to push the snow to the sides of the road, making my commute about a hundred times easier.

Halting suddenly, I throw my hands on my knees and try to suck in burning breath as I take in my surroundings. I can see the gate to Ethan’s house about 20 meters ahead, and I begin to make my way over there once I'm sure my heart won't jump out my chest and my lungs won't seize up and refuse the fresh air.

Planting my hand on the cobble wall next to the fence, I throw myself over the waist-high thing and look around to make sure no one saw. Ethan's mom hates it when I do that, but on a sunny day that gate is already a pain to try and jiggle open, and I wasn't about to attempt it with the snow that is coating the ground. With Ethan living in town, most of the snow has been scraped away, leaving just a greyish sludge.

I raise my hand with the intention to grab the knocker that rests on the forest green door, but before I have the chance the door is flung open, and I see him.

My best friend. My partner in crime. My boyfriend. My buddy. My pal.

Ethan.

The warmth from inside hits me as I take him in. He's wearing the sweater I bought him for his birthday last month- a nice thick cotton with little blue llamas contrasting against the soft buttercream. He's wearing a nice pair of jeans, and his feet are clothed in wool socks. I look up at his face and we're so close I can see the freckles gracing his fair skin.

"Well, don't just stand there- come in, idiot!" Ethan laughs as he steps back allowing for me to come in and shed my soaked outer layers.

"You look like a drowned cat"

"Shut up!" I shoot back as I push my wool coat off my shoulders and begin to shake the clumps of snow off it.

"Oh, come on! My mom's going to kill me if you get snow everywhere. I swear it's like you enjoy seeing her chew my out"

Rubbing the back of my neck, I sheepishly reply "Sorry!" and hang my coat on the rack and kick off my boots.

"I'm just giving you shit, Matthew” Grinning, Ethan puts his hand around my back, before pushing me up the stairs. I trip my way up the stairs as he runs up them behind me and I take a right before opening the door to his bedroom. With the turn of the knob, I let myself into his space. The scent of pine and pumpkin floats through the air, and without thinking I take my place at his desk, pulling out the chair so it faces the bed, where Ethan has gracelessly flopped down upon. He stretches out in a way the reminds me of a cat basking in the sun, his legs are crossed and his arms are resting behind him. The windows are foggy from the heat and the white from outside creates a nice glow in the room without having to turn on the multitude of lights that are scattered across the room. I don’t quite understand his hatred of the big light, but whatever. I don’t care. It’s just another one of his quirks that I have to live with, but love anyway. 

That’s one thing I quickly learned after I first met Ethan at the beginning of the year, he has a lot of odd qualities and peculiar skills that you would never think could work together or be useful in any way but somehow do. If there’s a law in the universe about contradictions Ethan is the beautiful exception to the rule. Ethan loves to live his life in the grey and that’s the one thing that I admire from the light side of things. 

“So what was sooooooo urgent that you had to have me come over at the asscrack of dawn?” I question picking up a random snowglobe that’s on his desk. 

“Put that down! And if you must know I invited you over because I think I finally found housing for next year- I just need a roommate” At this point Ethan has planted his feet on the ground, and remaining on the bed he looks excitedly over at me. 

“That’s what you had me come over?” I groan and hide my hands in my face. We haven’t talked about it much but as best friends I guess it would be the obvious choice to live together next year. Living together isn’t a problem, really it isn’t the problem is I don’t know how to live with him with how I feel about him. However, issue number two of  however many I have piling up at this point is that I don’t know I feel about Ethan. I mean everytime I see him my heart flutters and I feel whatever words I had get lodged in my throat. But, that’s just normal friend stuff right? I mean he is my best friend, so I guess it makes sense. 

Finally after a moment I ask “so what’d you find? And I swear it better not be the upstairs of a crack house or something of the sort-” 

“No no no, it's not that bad, come on. Move, I have it saved on my laptop” before I have time to react, Ethan is spinning my chair around to face the desk and bending into my personal space to open his laptop and we’re so close I can feel his breath on my neck. His arms are mere inches away from resting on my shoulders, as his nimble fingers make quick work to pull open the saved tab. 

The apartment is nice. It’s a small two bedroom one bathroom apartment- perfect for just two friends to share. The kitchen is open to the living room and there appears to be a decent amount of natural light in the small space. The price isn’t bad either, 650 per month minus utilities and internet. In all, it’s perfect. 

“Whatcha think?” Ethan’s looking at me expectantly, practically pleading with those puppy dog eyes. He doesn’t need to use them, I’m already sold on the apartment, but I still melt at the way his eyebrows scrunch together and those chocolate brown eyes somehow manage to become the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“It’s not bad…I like it” I smile back at him 

“Good because I already signed the lease” 

“What-” switching over to the next tap the lease is open, and in bold “ROOMMATE 2” is staring me in the face. Briefly looking at the information required, I sigh, look at Ethan and say, “Let’s do this”. 

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 22 - 1920s outdoors fashion

This season’s outside looks go from the plainest plain all the way up to the most ostentatious bling. Minor spoiler: Shirley MacLaine gets all the most glamorous looks.

But Maggie Smith still goes first, if only so I can gush a bit over fluffy, shiny grey velvet. If you look closely, I think someone could even be bothered to embroider a subtle pattern on this, which comes close to overkill, but it’s barely visible. If we want overkill, we’ll get a big old hat wrapped with velvet and tulle, and what looks like an outright bouquet of little fabric flowers.

One grey velvet coat is not enough, so we get another one. Familiar collar style, too; Violet has one coat that has a smocked collar like this in beige. Although if my memory serves, that coat was undecorated otherwise, which was for the better. This seems a little unnecessarily ostentatious with the embroidered sleeves and the rosettes on the front? Then again, the Dowager™ is wearing a goddamn tiara here, so it’s safe to say she’s going all out.

Much more muted, this looks like mourning garb, but I think it’s what she puts on for the baptism of her great-grandchild. And I adore the collar shape and its embroidery, plus the little soutache running over her shoulders. It’s also cute hat time again! How much velvet do you have to put into the crown if you gather it up so wavy? I don’t know, but anyway, the embroidery around the brim matches the coat perfectly. Fun fact, I almost failed to recognize this when Violet wore it as mourning attire in season 4, despite keeping it with the same fabulous hat. All she did was slap a fur on top of the coat.

This is almost more of an Isobel coat than a Violet coat, by virtue of the lapels shape and the color. Which by no means is to say she looks bad in it; it’s lovely. The fabric has a subtle waffle structure, so I think this is pretty warm. The three-button closure on the side pops nicely, and Violet wears another velvet hat, although this one is less grand. The color seems to be a tad more plum than the coat.

Is this a mourning gown that I failed to sort into the right category? It’s very black-dominated, but it’s also massively ostentatious. Tulle yoke, high lace collar with a sparkly brooch, embroidered bodice, hems and cuffs of the jacket beaded to hell and back, silk everywhere… Girl, who are you trying to impress?? You’re Maggie Smith; you’re already there three times over! But there’s no arguing with a chic hat. Well, the brim isn’t all to my taste, but the ruffled element with the feather and bejeweled brooch as a centerpiece? Awesome, 10/10.

A beige coat consisting entirely of lace (is this allowed to call itself lace? whatevs) and a matching hat that I find kind of adorable because the crown seems to be made to imitate petals. Also, I kind of love the blue ribbon on it; it shines so nicely on the pale background.

And a keeper into season 4, Violet is back on the purple shades with this walking dress. The material of the upper layer is a flowery damask, if subtly so, the more lilac under layer is plain. Well, plain silk satin; you know how it is. There’s the soutache around the trim and spreading onto the shoulders, and she has two hats matching in color that she wears to various occasions with this. I have a mild preference for the latter because embroidery, and because the purple feather on the first one looks more artificial than the black one.

For an outfit that I feel we only ever see on this one occasion, hunting / picnic in the Highlands and then never again (update: I was wrong; it only takes four more years in-universe), Violet sports this neat walking suit in brown and grey tweed. Interestingly and cut from these shots, Edith siths next to her in a different color but in exactly the same tiny checker. Well, Edith doesn't have a fur stola to brag with, but I’ve come to associate fur so strongly with Violet that this outfit would look incomplete without it.

--------------

Enter Martha Levinson. This woman is all glamor and no shame, so she walks up at Downton in black-golden damask (or is it brocade when there’s gold thread in it?) and shiny brown fur, and a hat that leaves me in awe of its material. Who even does these fabrics? Plus a couple pheasant feathers in a brooch with a small black gem, because why not. If you told me the closure of her handbag is pure gold, I would not be surprised in the least.

This coat manages to be a tad more subtle, if only because this time just the collar is fur but the cuffs aren’t. I quite like the pale piping on brown fabric, makes for a harmonic match. I can’t see much of what the hat is made of, but I’d guess a whole bouquet of feathers.

And again with the fur. Martha never tones it down. Orange silk? Definitely. Brown velvet hat? Sure. Beaded and bejeweled embroidery? Why not. Pearl earrings? The big ones, please. Feathers? At least half a dozen. Interestingly, despite the opulence of it all, none of her outfits really veer off into tasteless, and while she loves her bling as much as Violet does, she keeps up with the fashions of her time. In fact, she celebrates them.

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Strangely, I seem to remember Isobel wearing this several times, but I don’t have shots of it other than from Mary’s and Matthew’s wedding rehearsal? Eh, never mind; behold a pretty burgundy walking suit with long pointed lapels. She had a similar one in season 1, but that one had velvet lapels that weren’t pointed. Other than that, she settles into slanted hats this season.

Another slanted hat and a somewhat boring brown tweed coat, but it does give a nice background to the pretty scarf. This arrow collar shape is one we’ll see again a few times, if my memory serves.

A lovely blue walking suit she wears a few times plus a hat that I could swear was Mary’s… But anyway, Isobel pairs this blue with an ivory blouse and Crawley cameo earrings. So far, so well-established. Except, now she also has a matching cameo necklace? I’m intrigued.

My favorite of Isobel’s walking suits this season, although curiously one she doesn’t repeat in later seasons, despite the supreme look. I think it’s pale grey, but the lighting in the first picture makes it look ever so slightly lilac? Ah, whatever. I adore this collar and how excellently Isobel matches this darling hat to the outfit.

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And now for a total contrast point – Susan MacClare only gets the least stylish, least flattering outfits. Like, I know the loose 1920s cuts call oversize to mind, but why can she not afford a coat that fits her? Because if it would fit, it would look quite nice. I like that rust color, and the buttons for closure and on the collar are a cute little bit of decoration. Also, the hat may be nicer than the dull color gives it credit; this seems to be velvet, and I can get the tiniest glimpse of a patterned hatband.

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You see, it’s not like pretty brown coats aren’t a thing, because Cora just casually struts up in this and makes me die of envy. The collar embroidery! The white shell buttons running down the sleeves and cuffs! And then she also tops it off with this nice hat style, the brim folded up on one side and decorated with feathers in a lovely silver pin. No notes to this outfit; I want it.

And she keeps serving! This one comes back on the screen after The House of Elliot in 1992 and The Grand in 1997, and it has a color leaning a bit more toward chestnut, probably because it’s velvet and velvet has a complex about being outshone in terms of color depth. Too bad, because it only serves as the backdrop for this very rich, very gorgeous embroidery that doesn’t just keep it to some trim on cuffs and hem, no; this reaches up half the sleeves and half the length of the coat. And the effect is wonderful. I’m not a great fan of the first hat with that swirly embroidery, but the occasion also marks the return of Cora’s pheasant feathers on a pretty patterned wrap.

[incendio22]

FOR THE HOPE OF IT ALL

Pt 2 Chapter 23: A Feldcroft Getaway

I'm packing a small bag with different types of clothes along with some hygienic necessities. Imelda is all over the place, almost as if she's more excited than me about this.

''This will actually be like a glimpse into your future with him,'' she says with joy.

''I guess,'' I tell her as I fold my clothes neatly.

''Do you think he can cook?'' she asks as she puts down a necklace in my bag. ''Can you cook, even?''

''I can't, that's for sure,'' I laugh.

Sebastian meets me in the clocktower courtyard after our classes finish on Friday. He's in a dark green knitted sweater, wearing a cloak over. His lips curl into a smile when he sees me walking towards him.

''There you are,'' he says as he opens his arms and hugs me.

''Here I am,'' I say, stretching my arms out with a smile.

''How do you wanna go there?'' he asks gently. ''We can take your broom, use floo powder or apparate.''

''You know I can't turn down a good broom ride,'' I tell him with a smirk.

''Broom it is, then,'' he says with a smile as we go to get my broom.

I know he doesn't like flying, but one of the things I love most is when he's sitting behind  me with his arms wrapped around me and we fly over the beautiful landscape. It's getting darker as we're flying and I get closer to the ground to make sure I stick to the path to Feldcroft. Along the way, we see some thestrals in the woods. I slow down, almost standing still in the air and we observe them together.

''They're gorgeous,'' I say to him in a loud voice so he can hear me clearly.

He just hugs me tighter and I speed up once again. After a good hour, we are finally in Feldcroft. I land right outside the small house. The garden is covered in a layer of frost, almost making it glitter. He opens the front door and turns on the lights.

''Welcome home,'' he says in a soft voice. ''Sorry it's a little bit of a mess.''

There's books from the floor to the roof, which wasn't there before. The small house screams 'Sebastian' and it feels like I'm home.

''I love it,'' I tell him as I run my fingers along some of the books.

He hugs me from behind and I feel the smell of him. I turn around, still hugging him and bury my face in his chest. He laughs as he lets go of me.

''You want some tea?'' he asks as he starts walking over to the kitchen.

''I'd love some,'' I tell him and follow him to the kitchen.

''Sit down,'' he says. ''Let me take care of you. Sit down, relax.''

I do as he says and sit down by the kitchen table. It looks precisely like I imagined a place where only Sebastian lives. Books everywhere, some world maps on the walls and candles. He really changed almost everything about this place since I last was here. I suspect I would have done the same if I lived in a house where I used to live with people I care about. He comes over with a teakettle and two blue cups, then carefully pours the tea into the cups.

''You know,'' he starts, looking into his cup of tea. ''In my 4th year, before you came to Hogwarts, we were reading tea leaves in divination class. And my leaves said that I would soon meet someone that was going to change my life.''

''Did you?'' I ask jokingly.

''I did, indeed,'' he says with a grin. ''I met you just a couple of months after.''

''You changed my life just as much,'' I tell him softly. ''Maybe not in the same way, but still.''

''I love you,'' he mouths the words with a smile.

''I love you,'' I whisper back and lean forward to kiss him. His lips are warm from the tea.

I've never shared a bed with someone before, other than my parents as a kid. Therefore, it feels weird thinking about sharing a bed with Sebastian. I put on my pyjamas and crawl down under the blanket. Sebastian sits on the end of the bed, by my feet and looks at me.

''I can put out some blankets on the floor for me,'' he says softly, putting his hand on my arm.

''You can stay here,'' I say to him, making some space in the bed.

He goes to get another blanket so we can have our own and when he returns he's in pyjamas and jumps into bed. He's facing me and places a kiss on my nose. I blush slightly and feel a giggle bubbling up. Normally, he doesn't make me giggle but right now it's the only thing I can do.

''What's so funny?'' he asks softly, completely unaware why I'm laughing. In all honesty, I am also unaware.

''I don't know,'' I admit, still giggling. ''I guess you just make me a little nervous.''

He places his hand on my arm and strokes it with his fingertips, smiling.

''Are you saying that I still manage to get under your skin?'' he says with a smirk.

''Maybe,'' I tell him in a low voice.

''I love that,'' he says and cups his hand on my cheek.

We lay in bed, looking at each other for a long moment. He's so beautiful like this, relaxed and with a slight smile on his lips. I wish I can see him like this all the time.

''You know,'' he starts as he rolls onto his back and looks up into the ceiling. ''I hated coming here when there was no one here. I did everything to make this a place of my own, because it's not like I can afford a new place. But despite all the books and things I love, it never felt like a home. But now it actually feels a little bit like a home.''

''Sebastian,'' I tell him as I rest my hand on his cheek. ''I love you so much. I have no words for how much I love you.''

He looks at me with a smile and kisses me softly. For a long time, we lay in bed facing each other and touching each other's faces. Is this what falling in love really feels like? Of course I had been falling for him for a long time, but this feels different. When you realize the person in front of you is the one you want to spend every single day with, when you're unable to picture a future without them. Falling is one thing, but this feels like you've reached the ground and decide that you still want to stay here. With them. Even if it's not perfect all the time. Eventually we fall asleep, tangled up in each other's legs and blankets and I have the best sleep I've gotten in a long time.

''Good morning, love,'' he says and walks over to me, places a kiss on my cheek. I smile at him. Normally I hate mornings, but this feels like something I could get used to. ''You slept well?''

''I did,'' I tell him, stretching my arms with a massive yawn. ''Did you?''

''Never better,'' he says with a smirk and places a kiss on my nose. ''I made breakfast, come on up.''

He takes my hand and pulls me gently out of bed. On the small kitchen counter there is a small basket of freshly baked scones. He takes the basket and puts it on the kitchen table and pulls out my chair for me.

''I don't have much to put on it,'' he says with some shame in his voice. ''I haven't been here in months. All I have is some pumpkin paste.''

''I didn't expect a buffet,'' I tell him with a gentle smile. ''Thank you.''

''No need to thank me,'' he says with a smirk. ''So, tell me. What do you want to do today? You've never gotten much of a chance to truly explore Feldcroft.''

''Isn't that where you come into the picture?'' I ask him with a curious face. ''Take me on a tour.''

''Ask, and you shall receive,'' he says with a cheeky smile.

The scones are soft and still warm inside. I had no idea he could bake, but this is certainly something I could get used to. He's reading a book and I'm looking at him. It all feels very peaceful. After breakfast, we get dressed for a day outside. Sebastian is wearing black pants and a grey knitted sweater. His hair is a bit of a mess, but it does his face justice. For some reason, I find him more handsome than ever. I put on the knitted sweater Sebastian gave to me last Christmas and do a little spin in front of him.

''This is my favourite sweater,'' I tell him in a proud voice.

''Mine too,'' he says and pulls me closer to him. I put my arms around his shoulder and tilt my head. He lifts my chin up with his hand, giving me a soft kiss before we head out.

It must have snowed during the night because there is a thin layer of snow resting all over Feldcroft and the surrounding areas. The sun is shining and it's a beautiful day in November. Sebastian leads the way to a path along a forest. We meet a couple of villagers and they all greet us in friendly manners, but almost everyone starts whispering as soon as they have walked past us.

''Why is everyone whispering?'' I ask him in a low voice, feeling slightly embarrassed about the whispers.

''Let's just say that I'm not their favourite neighbour,'' Sebastian says in a low voice.

''Because of..?'' I begin asking, hesitating to finish my question. Sebastian nods.

''Yes,'' he replies firmly. ''And they aren't as open minded as Hogwarts students when it comes to relationships with the opposite gender. Most of them think you should get married before taking someone home, like I have brought you.''

''Are you suggesting we have to get married, if I'm to spend more time here?'' I ask him with a cheeky smile.

He gives me a smile and tilts his head as we walk along the snowy path, the sun shining right into our eyes.

''Is that wishful thinking I'm hearing, Y/n?'' he asks firmly, glancing at me.

''Maybe,'' I tell him, feeling my cheeks flush and get warmer.

''Someday,'' he says, still smiling. I feel the all too familiar fireworks exploding inside of me and my knees getting weaker. I need to stop myself from folding right then and there.

The walk is quite long, but I'm enjoying every step of it. The snow and the sun creates a magic atmosphere that almost feels surreal. Finally we reach a small cave that is covered in ivy, which is covered in frost. Sebastian casts his wand and the ivy starts pulling away, revealing a small opening into a cave. He gives me a daring look as he reaches out his arm, gesturing that I go first.

''Ladies first,'' he says with a grin.

''That doesn't apply to unexplored caves,'' I argue, folding my arms over my chest promptly.

''It's not unexplored,'' Sebastian says calmly. ''Just go inside, love.''

I need to crouch in order to get into the opening, but I manage to get in. The cave is limited when it comes to space and I keep following the way forward. We reach an end that looks like a curtain of ivy. Sebastian gestures that I should go on, so I move the ivy with my arm and enter a bigger room in the cave. I see a waterfall, falling down into a hole in front of us. The walls are covered in ivy and the ground is all mossy. It's absolutely beautiful, I feel almost paralyzed because of how breathtakingly beautiful it is. Sebastian stands next to me, looking tall and proud.

''What do you think?'' he smirks.

''It's stunning,'' I tell him, unable to take my eyes off the details.

''I discovered this place with Anne,'' he says softly. ''We came here to practise magic. This is the first place I ever managed to conjure a patronus.''

He casts his wand whilst saying Expecto Patronum. A white string of light is leaving his wand, eventually forming into a cat. It's running around in the air, creating an even more magical touch to the cave. He looks at me.

''What's your patronus?'' he asks softly.

I feel embarrassed to admit that I don't know. I had cast Expecto Patronum multiple times, however I had never managed to conjure a patronus. I glance away, looking at the waterfall.

''I don't know,'' I admit in a low voice, avoiding his eyes.

''Then this is the place,'' he helps me take out my wand and smiles when he sees the pin on my wand handle. ''I love the fact that you're carrying the pin with you, but it's supposed to go on your sleeve.''

He carefully removes it from my wand and fastens it on my sleeve, looking proud.

''There we go,'' he says with a smile. ''Now, focus on your happiest memory and then cast it.''

Whenever I had cast this spell before I thought about a childhood memory. Me on the beach with my parents. I was building a sand castle and they told me how beautiful it was. My father kissed my mother and they looked so happy. It's a memory I still remember very clearly and it's one of my happiest memories because normally my parents didn't seem too happy around each other. I think of it and cast my wand, but this time it seems to be refusing me. I give Sebastian a confused and frustrated look.

''Happens to the best of us,'' he smiles and shrugs his shoulders. ''Give it another try.''

I give it three more tries, but I still find myself to be unsuccessful. Sebastian looks curious.

''Maybe try a different memory?'' he suggests in a soft tone. ''I've had to change my happiest memories as I've gotten older.''

I try to think about moments that are more joyful than the one with my parents. The only things that pop into my head are memories with Sebastian. Our first visit in Hogsmeade, our first kiss, the New Year's Ball. But one specific memory sticks out. The day at the enchanted lake, when he gave me the heart pin and told me he loved me for the first time. And we became an official couple. I remember it so clearly that I can feel bubbles of joy bursting inside of me, the excitement and the love. This specific memory means the world to me, so I might as well give it a try. I flick my wand, thinking about him putting on the heart pin on my sleeve and telling me he wanted everything in life with me. A white string starts flowing from my wand and I turn to Sebastian with a smile.

''Focus,'' he mouths at me with a smile, looking proud of me.

The white string keeps flowing and when I think about when he told me loved me, and I said it back, the magic flowing from my wand appears stronger. Eventually, it starts turning into an animal. It starts out looking like a cat, but it's growing bigger than Sebastian's. I don't recognize the animal, but it looks like a bigger cat with small tassels on its ears. Sebastian applauds as I make the animal run around the cave.

''What animal is that?'' I almost yell at him in excitement.

''I think I've seen that in a book,'' he says in a calm voice, putting a hand on my shoulder. The patronus disappears as soon as he touches me, since I lose my focus. ''If I'm correct, it's a lynx.''

I turn to look at him in excitement, eyes sparkling and a massive smile on my lips. He puts his arms on my shoulders and kisses my forehead.

''That's almost the same as mine,'' he says, looking into my eyes.

''I don't know what just happened,'' I giggle, pressing my face into his chest.

''You just conjured your first patronus,'' he says, kissing my head. ''And Merlin, was it a good one!''

''I love you,'' I tell him, looking into his eyes and standing on my toes to reach his lips.

As our lips touch, I hear him saying ''I love you'' in a low voice.