#i can read in my dreams (at least well enough to confuse my brain even more)

[sirnica]

I am so tried of dreaming and false awakenings!

I snoozed through all of my alarms today and I was late to work which hasn't happened in years!

All because I had weird dreams and false awakenings one after another for what seemed like hours!

Just let me go to bed and wake up eight hours later remembering nothing, like god intended!

Fuck dreaming. All my homies hate dreaming.

[lauralot89]

in all calmness I must proceed.

good luck with that buddy

Van Helsing returned with extraordinary celerity

I first read this as "extraordinary celery" and was very confused

We must be alone with him when he becomes conscious, after the operation.

wait are you going to operate on him on a blood-soaked floor? Did we know about bacteria at this point? I feel like we did

I'll be quiet, Doctor. Tell them to take off the strait-waistcoat. I have had a terrible dream, and it has left me so weak that I cannot move. What's wrong with my face?

I want you all to know that I'm not crying, but only because I went to a performance of Les Mis last night and I've run out of tears

Quick, Doctor, quick. I am dying! I feel that I have but a few minutes; and then I must go back to death—or worse! Wet my lips with brandy again. I have something that I must say before I die; or before my poor crushed brain dies anyhow.

I mean, not to tell a man dying of brain injuries what to do, but you should probably get to the point a little faster

He was interrupted by a word from the Professor

Guys Renfield has minutes to live

The Acherontia Aitetropos of the Sphinges—what you call the 'Death's-head Moth'

Van Helsing is that really relevant right now

I found myself opening the sash and saying to Him: 'Come in, Lord and Master!'

okay so Renfield has escaped multiple times but apparently has a room with a window he can open, great work Seward

I don't care for the pale people

Well no wonder he hates Dracula

So when He came to-night I was ready for Him. I saw the mist stealing in, and I grabbed it tight. I had heard that madmen have unnatural strength; and as I knew I was a madman—at times anyhow—I resolved to use my power. Ay, and He felt it too, for He had to come out of the mist to struggle with me. I held tight; and I thought I was going to win

at least for now, Renfield had taken Quincey's place as the greatest character in fiction. I do not accept debate.

Also this situation is deadly serious and very sad but can I just point out that Dracula very nearly lost a fistfight to a mortal man, and that's hilarious

listen you jerks, I know time is of the essence but even if you don't have time to apologize to Renfield for not listening him, you could at least thank him for telling you

"May it not frighten her terribly? It is unusual to break into a lady's room!"

Quincey. Quincey, I love you, but you are so stupid.

He dipped the end of a towel in cold water and with it began to flick him on the face

this is again not funny but it also kind of is

It interested me, even at that moment, to see, that, whilst the face of white set passion worked convulsively over the bowed head, the hands tenderly and lovingly stroked the ruffled hair.

It took me entirely too long to realize that Seward is describing Jonathan here, and not what Dracula was doing while he made Mina drink his blood. My brain is slow today.

Go on, friend Arthur. We want here no more concealments. Our hope now is in knowing all.

Little late for that, Professor Van Dumbass

Here I interrupted. "Thank God there is the other copy in the safe!"

oh sure, say that out loud when we don't know where Dracula is

I could not but feel that Art was keeping back something; but, as I took it that it was with a purpose, I said nothing

YOU ARE ALL SO STUPID

God knows that I do not want that you be pained; but it is need that we know all.

too bad you didn't reach that conclusion DAYS AGO

I was bewildered, and, strangely enough, I did not want to hinder him. I suppose it is a part of the horrible curse that such is, when his touch is on his victim.

I'm completely normal about the implications of this

Is it ever explained what the terrible odor that's associated with Dracula is? It's typically described in connection with his breath, so I thought at first they were smelling blood and finding it unpleasant, but from the description of the air in the chapel I think it must go beyond that. Is it the smell of decomposition? But then shouldn't it have been stronger when he was starving than it is now? Is it just stale air that's sat in his lungs for who knows how long? Does the blood he drinks rot inside of him once he's taken whatever he needs of it?

Whilst they played wits against me—against me who commanded nations, and intrigued for them, and fought for them, hundreds of years before they were born

I mean it does speak to the collective stupidity of the Crew of Light that Count "Throw Wolves at Everything" Dracula outsmarted them. That's got to hurt.

As it was, he thought that on the attendant's evidence he could give a certificate of death by misadventure in falling from bed.

oh yeah that's believable from his injuries

the very first thing we decided was that Mina should be in full confidence; that nothing of any sort—no matter how painful—should be kept from her.

too little too late, morons

"Because if I find in myself—and I shall watch keenly for it—a sign of harm to any that I love, I shall die!"

"You would not kill yourself?" he asked, hoarsely.

"I would; if there were no friend who loved me, who would save me such a pain, and so desperate an effort!"

Mina is amazing, if only anyone else had even half her sense

but now he does not know our intentions

they're damn lucky Dracula was probably too stupid to read the notes before he burned them

"Friend Quincey is right!" said the Professor. "His head is what you call in plane with the horizon

...do you mean on straight

amazing

Things have been as bad as they can be;

they really haven't, they can get far worse

When it struck him what he said, he was horrified at his thoughtlessness

first time for everything

Listen, as much as I'm glad that you've stopped being fucking idiots and hiding things from each other, now that Mina is mentally connected to Dracula, maybe it would have been better not to have her in the planning session

Now let me guard yourself. On your forehead I touch this piece of Sacred Wafer in the name of the Father, the Son, and——

HEY GENIUS, she has demon blood in her, what did you think would happen

To one thing I have made up my mind: if we find out that Mina must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone.

I love Jonathan Harker a normal amount. I am completely normal about this. Excuse me while I sob grossly for unrelated reasons.

Taking from his box a piece of the Sacred Wafer he laid it reverently on the earth, and then shutting down the lid began to screw it home, we aiding him as he worked.

you just locked Jesus in a coffin.

I mean, He'd probably be cool with it, but still.

for we knew we had a strong and wily enemy to deal with

help now my stupid brain is imagining Wile E. Coyote as Dracula

Last night he was a frank, happy-looking man, with strong, youthful face, full of energy, and with dark brown hair. To-day he is a drawn, haggard old man, whose white hair matches well with the hollow burning eyes and grief-written lines of his face.

it has been years since I last read this book, and in my head I thought that Jonathan's hair had turned white after the experiences in Transylvania, like over a period of time, from stress. But no, it happened over night because he's such a devoted wife guy that Mina's sorrow damn near killed him

he was in life a most wonderful man. Soldier, statesman, and alchemist—which latter was the highest development of the science-knowledge of his time. He had a mighty brain, a learning beyond compare, and a heart that knew no fear and no remorse.

I am so normal about human Dracula, so very normal

Well, in him the brain powers survived the physical death; though it would seem that memory was not all complete.

so does this mean he's forgotten most/all of his human life? He's literally lost every connection to humanity, even in memory?

Now I'm sad

In some faculties of mind he has been, and is, only a child

that would explain the "throw wolves at the problem" mentality

"I fail to understand," said Harker wearily. "Oh, do be more plain to me! Perhaps grief and trouble are dulling my brain."

No, Jonathan, that's just what dealing with Van Helsing is like

Do we not see how at the first all these so great boxes were moved by others. He knew not then but that must be so. But all the time that so great child-brain of his was growing, and he began to consider whether he might not himself move the box.

it took Dracula four hundred years to figure out he can move things himself. I love him, he's so fucking stupid

Look out for D

why does this amuse me so

He seems to be going the round and may want to see you

Dracula, pounding furiously on the door: Leave my shit alone!

Harker evidently meant to try the matter, for he had ready his great Kukri knife and made a fierce and sudden cut at him.

God bless Jonathan Harker.

The next instant, with a sinuous dive he swept under Harker's arm, ere his blow could fall, and, grasping a handful of the money from the floor, dashed across the room, threw himself at the window.

this mental image is beautiful

We ran over and saw him spring unhurt from the ground.

Really, this is almost a Looney Tunes bit

"You think to baffle me, you—with your pale faces all in a row, like sheep in a butcher's. You shall be sorry yet, each one of you! You think you have left me without a place to rest; but I have more. My revenge is just begun! I spread it over centuries, and time is on my side. Your girls that you all love are mine already; and through them you and others shall yet be mine—my creatures, to do my bidding and to be my jackals when I want to feed. Bah!"

can we talk about how Bram Stoker wrote some of the most badass and iconic dialogue ever for Dracula here and then finished it with BAH!

wait I just realized when Dracula came in he must have seen Jonathan's now white hair and had a moment of confusion about it

That poor soul who has wrought all this misery is the saddest case of all. Just think what will be his joy when he, too, is destroyed in his worser part that his better part may have spiritual immortality. You must be pitiful to him, too, though it may not hold your hands from his destruction.

help I feel unauthorized emotion

I, too, may need such pity; and that some other like you—and with equal cause for anger—may deny it to me!

I need to lie down

Surely God will not permit the world to be the poorer by the loss of such a creature.

I AM COMPLETELY NORMAL

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

*Define Cultural Impact*

Taylor stans: " Well it made a lot of money and it charts."

I pray for them to understand the difference between commercial success and cultural impact.

And dressing like her, RIGHT NOW isn't impact either. She's one or the biggest popstars at the moment. Of course some gonna cosplay as her. Talk to me if anyone does this 20 years later. I can GUARANTEE you no one will be doing that.

And OF COURSE businesses will try to captilize of her name. As if they wouldn't suck up to her to gain cash.

What impact has she DONE with her MUSIC? Her ART? Has she done ANYTHING that hasn't been done before? Did she push any boundaries? Did she risk anything?

Preach-

You have no idea how stressful I find it that most- if not all- young people are consistently conflating the idea of material success with cultural impact.

Capitalistic Hellscape American Dreams are literally rotting out the core of the human experience-

Not to be too overly dramatic- but Taylor Swift is literally the poster child for the vapidity of conflating materialism with cultural presence.

To be honest- now that it has been roughly 6 months since TTPD release- I don't really see much impact from the album at all.

In fact- I barely hear it played on anything except the most obnoxious Tik Toks you've ever heard in your life. Do Swifties think that having an impact on Tik Toks is the equivalent of making an impact as an artist?

I wonder- about this a lot since I've been reading so much on dialectical materialism, ancient aesthetics, and Marxist philosophy-

It's getting weird inside my brain.

It is an interesting question at least- to wonder, are we culturally influenced by the most vapid, shallow aspects of capitalistic music production; or is art mainly beholden to aesthetics?

Does the modern pop music captivate us for aesthetic purposes? or does it captivate our impulse towards distraction in an era of increasingly short attention spans?

Either way- I am rather sick of the banality Swift is propping up as "genius"

I don't know- I fell down a rabbit hole the other day at the crosshairs of neurobiology and aesthetics-

Some scholars of Ancient Greek plays argue that the unique rythme and prosody of employed by the playwright had the ability to affect the mind- and further our ability to empathize, think critically, and engage with reality. Some of the theories relate- of course- to the Aristotelian idea of catharsis- so imagine my surprise when I realized there is a real neuroscientific basis to that ancient theory.

I really enjoy thinking about this stuff- if you can tell; mainly because I know that Taylor Swift was aiming for classic Greek Tragedy aesthetics and missed it by a mile, simply because she is not a good enough writer to employ the tactics of catharsis in her work.

Not that I want to fall into a neo-fascist trap of glorifying past art as the pinnacle to which we should all aspire because it represents some past "pure" age- free of corruption. I do, however, think that we live in an interesting era- one which nearly demands that we pay attention to what slips past our attention, and what is missing from our periphery of attention:

What is missing from art? Where are the neurobiological cathartic impulses- the aesthetics of critical engagement? Where did it go? Is it actually missing- I think, at least, for some more mind-numbing music (like Swift's) it certainly is.

And, of course, a follow up question from people who would no doubt play devil's advocate with this topic: Should we even bother with emotionality and cognitive engagement for the purpose of creating good art? Does good art have to make people think or feel? Is that the purpose of art?

Relating it all back to cultural impact vs material success- Why do people think that material success is indicative of any further artistic depth? I don't have an answer- it is actually confusing to me.

You pose a really thought-provoking discussion in your ask, and I thank you for it.

I will be returning to writing about aesthetics- I am sure of that.

[kitthepurplepotato]

Shenanigans Part 8

Alternative Universe Part 3/3

New to the story? Start with Chapter 1!

Part 6-7-8 can be read without knowing the whole story, if you want to give it a go, click here!

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Part 8: The Menace and the case of the pajama party in the alternative universe. ( + extra Tododeku!)

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Warnings: swear words, drunk people (everyone is 25+ and responsible), drunk crying

Summary: Bakugou Katsuki might not have feelings when he’s sober, but he’s really weak to wine and champagne - with that said, get ready to an overly sensitive, fluffy Bakugou from the alternative universe.

Meanwhile, in the real world, the grumpy Bakugou Katsuki suffers - he can’t seem to understand his confusing feelings towards his biggest “enemy”.

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Meanwhile in the real world…

“Go to sleep, Kacchan.”

Honestly, the fuck is the nerd’s problem? Katsuki is on the couch. His eyes are closed. What the fuck else can he do?

“I would like to sleep, but your stupid fucking freckled face is distracting even with my eyes closed.” Katsuki snaps, his movements aggressive as he slaps his duvet around a bit for greater comfort.

Why is he on a random ass couch instead of his bedroom?

Because those two fuckers didn’t let him go home alone. Not even the mention of his poor starving pigeons made them change their mind. Sadistic assholes.

“Izuku’s freckled face has nothing to do with you hyperventilating on the couch.” Todoroki sighs. “She’s fine, Bakugou. She’s probably having a pajama party with a less mental version of you right now.”

Was that supposed to make him calm? And anyway… “Why the fuck are you here, Candy Cane?”

“I’m here to make sure you don’t strangle Izuku in his sleep.” Comes the easy answer, and to be fair, he might do that if he gets sleep deprived enough.

“Go and share a bed with him him, just in case.” He grumbles back and closes his eyes again, hoping to have least 3 hours of sleep tonight, just to have some energy to scream Y/N’s face off properly when she dares to come back. That’s all.

“Good idea, thank you!” Perks up the half and half idiot, making Izuku squeak like a 10 year old virgin. Fucking idiot.

“I wish to sleep a-alone, thank you v-very much.” He stutters and leaves the living room; Todoroki goes after him like a kicked puppy who does not understand their owner’s anger, even tho they just shat on their carpet 5 minutes ago.

After a few minutes of loud commotion in Deku’s bedroom - the nerd is probably telling that dick off for not understanding human communication again - the flat falls silent; but Bakugou’s thoughts are still too loud to be able to sleep.

“Fuck this shit.” He grumbles and takes his phone out to type out a message.

The fact, that the message was sent at 3:30 AM does not matter. He’s just not tired yet.

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The pajama party is more like an interrogation on crack. You are attacked with questions from every side, barely able to answer them all, but all your anxiety flew away the moment Todoroki popped open his secret drink fridge filled with all the fancy alcohol he stole from his idiot father’s old liquor cabinet. “Well, it’s his fault he left them in my mom’s house. He’s not gonna come back for it.” He said nonchalantly, when seeing your massive saucer eyes when he popped open a super expensive champagne that costs more than your monthly wage.

You tell the guys about the world of quirks; you try to keep it simple and not too revealing, but Deku is about to pop a vein as his question wasn’t answered before, so you have to do something before the guy gets brain damaged.

They tell you all their funny stories from America, about their dreams and plans for the future; they are so pure and so lively, they make your heart melt. You also try your best to tell them about their current life in your world; you can’t really tell them much about Deku and Todoroki but the more you drink, the more you ramble about your annoying boss, about how much you hate his guts, about his daily assholery; by the end of the day you end up with your head on the dumbstruck blonde’s shoulder next to you.

By 3 AM, Deku and Todoroki are passed out on the massive bed in the funniest position ever; they literally fell asleep on top of each other, their bodies making a cross sign on the bed. Deku’s body is spread through Todoroki’s lap like a cat, his head hanging down from the side of the bed. It definitely doesn’t look comfortable, but they look content so you decide against waking them up.

The blonde next to you is also half asleep, but he looks kinda melancholic. To be fair, he did stop responding to your ramblings after a while, but you were too drunk to care.

“I’m sorry for talking shit about your other self.” You apologize as you make your way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “He’s really not that bad. He can be really caring, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” He snaps, then suddenly, he’s really interested in his own bedding by the way he stares at it. You swear his eyes look a little bit wet, but you might be hallucinating. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”

He’s crying. Motherfucking murder whatever god Dynamight is fucking crying.

You definitely drank way too much. This can’t be real. “I’m frustrated, goddamit!” He cries out loudly, waking the other two up with his sudden hysterics. “There is this beautiful, intelligent, caring lady in that fucker’s life who tolerates him even though he doesn’t deserve it at all and he’s being an absolute ass about it.” He continues, silent tears falling on his red cheeks. “He has everything I always wanted yet he doesn’t give a shit about it, and that frustrates me.” He ends his rant while he covers himself with his duvet aggressively. You are not sure if you want to cry over the touching words or laugh at how adorable he is so you just end up staring at him from the other side of room where your bedding is.

“He’s a sensitive drunk, bless his little heart.” Mumbles the greenette and taps Bakugou’s head with his hanging hand. He passes out again right after.

“If I would be in his place…” he mumbles, still hidden under his duvet. “Actually… I will go to your fucking country and I won’t leave until I found you. I will make sure you are the happiest fucking woman in this world, I’ll force you to come with me to Japan if I need to. That’s what I’m gonna do. Yeah.”

The room falls silent. You are definitely crying now. Who is this man and how is he related to Bakugou Katsuki? You really want to get married to this random stranger in a random creepy chapel in the middle of the night.

“I’ll give you all my possible addresses then.” You murmur into your pillow with a smile on your face; it’s really silly to be jealous of your own self, but you can’t help it. You are really sad you won’t be able to see these people again; this weird trio made their way into your heart in less than 24 hours and to be absolutely honest with yourself, you really don’t want to go back to the real world.

You slowly drift off to slumberland in this safe and peaceful room, dreaming about a better world and a better life.

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Meanwhile in the real world…

Mr. Katsuki did NOT sleep last night.

Why, you ask?

Because sleep is for the weak.

No, it has nothing to do with the fact that his secretary is in another world, sad and lonely, probably frightened to death in the middle of night, sleeping on the street somewhere, freezing and hungry.

Mr. Katsuki does NOT care about the Menace.

He’s also not tired.

The bags under his eyes? They are Gucci. It’s a fashion choice. They make him look rough and manly, as Kirishima would say. They also help shutting up the extras, as they are too terrified to talk to him.

Everything is fine.

“Katsuki.” The half and half fuckface sighs. The fuck is his problem?! He haven’t said a single word. He’s calm and collected. “You’ve been staring at the concrete for 2 hours now. We still have a few more minutes.”

“I’m just making sure no one steps on the spot.” Mr. Katsuki answers, looking all professional. This is just another job on the field. No biggie. He’s just doing a good job.

“Kacchan, you made sure no one steps on that spot 2 hours ago.” Deku opens his mouth and Mr.Katsuki does not understand the problem here. Yes, he drew a big circle around the area saying “If you step here, you die.” But there might be someone around who’s visibly impaired, or just dumb in general. Or a foreigner who does not understand the world DIE! DIE! DIE! Written all over the area. Maybe, the message is not clear. You never know.

“Fuck off and let me do my job!” Mr. Katsuki snaps, his eyes still focused on the concrete in front him. He could probably remember every single crack on this concrete piece by now even without looking at it.

A few minutes later, something suddenly falls from the sky; Mr. Katsuki is too focused on the concrete to see it coming, hence why, the Menace arrives with a big thump.

Mr. Katsuki almost throws up from the way his heart suddenly drops for a second… wait, no. The only reason Mr. Katsuki feels sick is the smell of alcohol coming from the ground.

“I will never drink again.” Mumbles the idiot while rubbing her stupid forehead. And Mr. Katsuki looses his shit.

“You fucking asshole!” He screams, making the hungover Menace flinch. “I thought you fucking died!” He screams even louder. “Yet here you are, fucking hungover, while I couldn’t fucking sleep because of you!”

Y/N’s phone suddenly beeps, so she takes a look at it, giving Katsuki a questioning glance.

“By the message you sent me at 3:30 AM, you slept really well last night?” She dares to say, and also, she dares to continue. “Oh, and your other self is so much nicer than you are. Quite a bummer, really. I kinda wanted to date the guy.”

Mr. Katsuki does not get flustered. The only reason his face is red as a tomato is the hot weather. It has nothing to do with the indication of Y/N willing to date him. It’s not him anyway, technically. Plus, he would never date this terrible, smelly woman. Never. He has no intentions of waking up next to this menace everyday, moan about the stupid pigeons while trying to untangle their limbs from each other, he definitely has no intentions of making breakfast every morning to make sure the Menace actually eats proper food and not just rice with fucking broccoli - just because the food is plain, doesn’t mean it’s nutritious.

… wait.

You are misunderstanding. He definitely DID NOT think about this before. His self-deprived brain is just a bit to imaginative, that’s all.

Let’s take a deep breath and step back for a bit. Let’s think about this situation.

The Menace is clearly hungover if not fucking drunk, still.

The Menace just confessed that she met his other self.

That means…

“You got drunk with me in an alternative universe?!” Mr. Katsuki snaps again, glaring at the floor incredulously.

“No, I got drunk with you, Deku and Todoroki. Also, you are really sensitive and super cuddly when you drink. It’s adorable.” The menace GIGGLES, hiding her stupid face behind her stupid hands, looking like a lovesick teenager.

Cuddly?!

Adorable?!

“You did not fucking cuddle me. You did not!”

Dynamight can not take this shit anymore. He explodes. Literally. For the next few minutes, all you can hear is swear words and death threats coming from the hero, his palm making explosions from left to right.

(…And you didn’t even mention the cute selfie you have on your phone with the three of them yet; you can only hope the picture is still available in this world, because fuck if you you won’t frame that shit and put it on your living room shelf.)

“It’s Shouto’s fault! His father has a liquor cabinet!” She tries to save herself self while throwing the other one under the bus. Todoroki doesn’t get offended, just stays silent for a while and nods.

“My father indeed had a liquor cabinet, but I never opened it before. Does it have good stuff in it?” He asks innocently, but his gaze is nothing but mischievous.

“Shou…” Midoriya facepalms, but says nothing else. He’s just done.

“The best stuff, mate. Mind sharing in the future?” Y/N winks, and for the first time in Shouto’s life, he grins at a “stranger”.

Mr. Katsuki doesn’t comment, he just explodes again.

Literally.

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Extra:

(not a part of the main story, feel free to skip if it’s not your cup of tea)

Warnings: Closeted gays, Tododeku, talking about sex (only vaguely)

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“You wanted to see us, Y/N?”

Yes, you wanted to see these two. Why? Because you are a fucking fujoshi. That’s why.

“Shouto, Deku. Please, sit down.” You point at the sofa, making the two bulky heroes shuffle awkwardly. “Today, we will talk about love, romance and sexual attraction.”

As you finish your sentence, the two heroes get extremely uncomfortable, shuffling a bit more to stay as far away from each other as they can. They literally behave like two teenagers who just got caught making out. It’s actually quite hilarious.

“I’m… not sure why is this important, miss Y/N, b-but to be honest, I ne-never had the time to think about my… preferences? I’m married to my job, I guess?” Stutters the green haired hero, awkwardly ruffling his own curls to keep himself grounded. Adorable.

“I am more than content with my current life. I do not need romance to be happy and satisfied.” Deadpans the half and half hero, and that’s actually what you wanted to hear; because now, you can ask your question without beating around the bush too much.

“Does Deku has something to do with your current satisfaction?”

If he dares to answer with a lie…

“Yes.” He deadpans again, making the greenette next to him blush like a high schooler.

“Deku?”

“I… I don’t think there is anyone who would be able to understand my work on the long run, as I barely have a day off, and I also couldn’t find anyone who would tolerate my rambling for long enough to like me that way.” He sighs, trying his best to not make an eye contact with anyone in the office.

“I like your ramblings.” Shouto steps in, not really understanding the problem here. This guy really can’t read the room. “I also work with you, so I understand your line of work perfectly.”

“Shouto, we are talking about love and romance.” Deku whines, clearly done with his best friend’s bluntness. “You wouldn’t have sex with me, would you?”

“I never thought about this option before.” Todoroki touches his non-existent beard, clearly deep in thought. “Is it allowed to romance your best friend?”

“Shou!!” Deku takes one of the pillows from the sofa and hides his face in it; his body lit up as OFA intensely crackles around his muscles from the embarrassment.

“You can date your best friend, yes. Now leave. And talk about it. My work here is done.”

As the two heroes leave the office, you look at the blonde hiding behind his massive desk next to you; the two were too busy to realize he’s here, and you decided not to make a comment about it either. It was more fun this way.

“They will fuck tonight.” He says while looking at you with a mischievous smirk on his amused face.

“They probably won’t, but they will get together, for sure.” You smirk back, your hand in the air, waiting for a high five, which never comes.

“You have a long way before you can get a high five from me, you fucking drunkard.”

Oh, well.

At least you officially made two couples since you started in this office.

That’s enough of an achievement for the day.

“I really want to drink with you again, Mr. Dynamight.” You sigh into the distance, mumbling to yourself.

“You wish!” The blonde snaps, his blushing face hidden behind his hands as he looks away; as Mr. Dynamight said, you are a long way from getting drinking privileges with the hero, but never say never; If that adorable blush is anything to go by, you are not that far away from it as Bakugou thinks.

… next chapter!

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The alternative universe story ENDS HERE, the main story will be continued!

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End note: We are slowly getting into the romance territory here! I actually came up with quite a few ideas in the last few days! Don’t worry, it’s still going to be funny. If you think these two can do anything in a non-comedic way, you read this story the wrong way, mate.

Also thank you for those who only read the last 3 chapters; I hope you enjoyed them! Feel free to stay around for the rest of the story! The taglist is still open for everyone! 💥

If there is anything you want to see in this story, feel free to message me with your ideas! 💜

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Taglist: @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai @nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal @luleck @notplutos

[bell-of-indecision]

✨I ranked all the indian stuff I watched in 2023✨

For context, this July I finally gave in to my decade-old urge and dove head first into indian culture. It's been nothing short of phenomenal. The more people I meet, the more foods I try, the more music I listen to, the more Hindi I learn, the more I fall in love with India.

Although I became more of a TV serial person, eventually, I gave in to the movies as well.

So here's everything I watched, ranked from worst to best.

(I'm sorry in advance)

10. Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani

This movie is useless, I'm so sorry. Somehow, it fooled me into thinking Naina was the main character, then the whole thing became about Bunny and I was so confused, who was I supposed to care about anyway? Can't complain though, Naina is a boring and uncharismatic cliché, I couldn't care less about her, had she disappeared midway into the story, I would've been thankful. Avi, Bunny, and Aditi, on the other hand, are loveable characters that deserved to be in a better movie — especially Aditi, I liked her so much. Too bad the movie seems to be about absolutely nothing. There was a message, I think, but it felt so shallow it didn't even matter to me, there was no actual relevance, no lesson, no impact, nothing. Maybe I'm stupid, but this movie is a drag. And the soundtrack SUCKS, Ilahi is the only good song in it.

2.8/10

9. Bhool Bhulaiyaa 2

The very first Bollywood movie I've ever watched. I wanted to like it so bad, it makes me sad that I didn't. Is it a comedy? A horror story? A dramatic murder mystery? Somehow, it's all of these and none at the same time, it can't decide on a tone to save its life, not even the humor can decide on what exactly it wants to be (most of it is just bad). The main couple has negative chemistry, their romance is so bland it's almost funny. Ruhan carries the whole movie on his back and is the only character with enough charisma to make me care, I honestly love this guy. His scene where he pretends to be possessed is incredible, and Tabu as Anjulika was great too. The plot twist was really nice, possibly the only good thing about the whole story, but then the movie ends so abruptly and on such a heavy note that it almost made me sick when the upbeat theme song started playing immediately after. This movie could not read the room, everything about it throws me off.

4/10

8. Jab We Met

Aditya is a dream, Geet is kind of a nightmare. I have nothing against characters that are lively, optimistic, and cheery, but they have to be bearable, she was just way too much for me. I loved Aditya's character development, it was fun and endearing to watch. The movie itself is not bad, just overrated. Nagada Nagada slaps though.

6/10

7. War

I wanted to love this movie just as much as it wanted to have a good twist. We both failed. Underestimating the audience's intelligence is one thing, but toying with us and making us feel like fools for the sake of a “big reveal” is something else. And no, it wasn't worth it. It wanted to be surprising, but it was just frustrating, shocking for all the wrong reasons. The action was fire though, no complaints there, and I loved the relationship dynamic between Kabir and Khalid, I would watch 11 seasons of those two going on missions with their team and fighting together, their chemistry is so good, I enjoyed every second of their scenes.

6.4/10

6. Arjun: The Warrior Prince

As a Mahabharat fan, I had hopes, but that's on me. Loved the way the story was presented to the audience, simple but brilliant. Shaheer Sheikh's Brihannala altered my brain chemistry, and I was elated to see her again. The animation was gorgeous, that goes without saying. I just hated how it ended right before the war, right where Arjun has some of his best moments, and hated even more how they practically erased Krishna from the story. At least they made him dark skinned this time.

6.7/10

5. My Name is Khan

Had this been based on a true story, I would've been the biggest fan of this movie to ever exist, I am a sucker for movies based on real life stories. Still, despite the disappointment of finding out this whole thing — as good as it was — was fictional, I see it as a touching, lovely, honest, and relevant story that kept me interested and broadened my horizons. Say whatever you want about allistic actors playing autistic characters, Shah Rukh Khan sold the heck out of this character and I bought it like the big neurodivergent fool that I am. I see a neurodivergent character onscreen, I am immediately on-board and loving them despite all their scripted flaws because “they're just like me fr”. "Marry me", indeed.

7/10

4. Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani

Is it innovative and groundbreaking? No, but it is so much fun. It's deep and honest enough, charismatic and funny enough, it's just good entertainment with a good message. I expected nothing to be honest, either way, the story just kept getting better? The dynamics kept getting deeper and more complex? Wait a minute, this was actually good! I went in for the soundtrack — I'm obssessed with Dhindhora Baje Re — but I stayed for everything else. I laughed out loud many times, I shed some tears, I rooted, man, this movie made me feel actual things! What a lovely surprise.

7.9/10

3. The Railway Men

I went into it with such high hopes. Some of them were met, but part of me was left unsatisfied. As I said before, real stories are my favorite, but the way this show was presented feels too much like fiction. Good fiction, but still. And I know it’s not fiction. I am aware that many creative liberties were taken, and I'm not against them, at all, but the thing is: I could see them, I knew they were there. When I watched HBO’s Chernobyl, I was fully convinced that everything that was presented in the show was reality, exactly how it had happened, and I doubted nothing. I was shocked when they revealed that Ulana Khomyuk was a character created to represent many scientists that were involved in the incident. I had eaten her up, and I still can't believe she wasn't a real person. The Railway Men feels like the opposite of this, most of it feels like a creative liberty, very little reads as a real event, a real interaction, or a real person. I doubted a lot of what I saw, and had to do some research to fully understand what exactly had been real. But like I said, it was still good. I found myself caring deeply for each and every character, no matter how minor, I deeply empathized with their pain, rooted for them, cried with them, cried for them. It's heartbreaking, gut wrenching, revolting, yet it still manages to be inspiring. Why I never learned about Bhopal before watching this show is beyond me, but at any rate, I will be recommending this show to everyone I know.

8.1/10

2. Brahmāstra: Part One – Shiva 

I will defend this movie's honor, I don't even care. I loved it so much that I made my mom watch it with me the next day, and she loved it. The dialogue is cringy, yes, unbearably so, some lines make my skin crawl. But COME ON, the plot is great, the concept is creative, the visual effects are wonderful, the soundtrack is divine —Mohan is dreamy— hear me out, I was hooked, on board, immersed, you name it. This movie made me feel so excited, I felt like a 7-year-old watching a super hero movie and wanting to have cool powers just like those, I honestly can't remember the last time a movie made me feel this energetic. Do I understand why Shiva and Isha were so deeply in love despite having met each other a week ago? No, but I was still rooting for them. Do I understand why sometimes people yell out the Astra’s powers in order to activate them like the Power Rangers? No, neither do I vibe with it, but do you think it mattered? The next moments were so freaking cool that I completely forgot what I wanted to complain about. (Oh, and Saurav Gurjar was in it! I gasped so loud when I saw him on screen, and playing a villain no less!) I was genuinely sad when it ended, I would've watched three more hours of that, despite the terribly written lines. I will fight for this movie and forgive every bad line of dialogue if it kills me.

8.7/10

1. Mahabharat (2013)

In case you haven't noticed, I am absolutely obssessed with Mahabharat. Initially, I’d decided to face the 267 episodes of this show because watching stuff in your target language is a good way to learn (also, that Krishna guy was very easy on the eyes, looking at him a bit more surely wouldn't hurt). It took me a few episodes to really get into the story, but once I did, oh boy, I was so hooked on the plot I even forgot about the language (although I did learn some words from it). The thing about this show, other than the freaking superb plot and phenomenal cast, are the characters. They all made me feel something. And that's the thing with characters, I believe, they don't necessarily have to be good or bad, morally speaking, they have to be well-written and entertaining, they have to make you feel things, positive or negative. Shakuni, a villain, was freaking great because of how good he was at being bad. And the good guys, like the Pandavas, weren't just good, that'd be boring, they were also charismatic, unique, funny, inspiring, and sometimes morally grey, which made them even more interesting, even more human. Watching them get in conflict with their morals when things got dark was insane. Even when they messed up —I'm looking at you Dharmraj— I still wanted to see them win. They felt like family, I watched them grow, I felt so close to them that their struggles and victories felt like my own. “My boys”, I call them. Mahabharat is my Roman Empire, man, I could talk about this show for HOURS. Anyway, this became my favorite show of all time and I'm so glad I didn't let the number of episodes scare me away. (And yes, I am still very much in love with Saurabh Raaj’s Krishna, he is probably one of my favorite characters ever, my heart raced when I first saw him and it still does to this day, BYE)

9/10

Oh, this ended up being a Top 10. Nice.

I both thank you and applaud you for reaching the end of this ramble that is ultimately just a result of my obsession with making lists and ranking literally everything. And also my admiration for indian culture.

I would've included Porus and Chandragupta Maurya but I'm not yet finished watching them, but I thought I should say: I am liking them a lot.

What do you people think I should watch next year? Recommendations are welcome!

✨🇮🇳 ✨

[ichigo-dream]

Sick at the Heart Chapter 2

Apologies for the delay in the update! Uni has been crazy and Leon Kennedy and Vergil Sparda have been living rent free in my head, poor Levi had to be patient and wait.

That said, I've made good progress on Chapter 3 and hopefully it won't take as long to have it up for you.

I hope you enjoy it!

Same warnings from before apply, Don't Like Don't read.

Love, Ichigo xoxo

You waken the next morning blearily, staring sleepily into the early morning sunshine. You crinkle your eyes in confusion. It feels really early. Why are you awake? You twist in the sheets, whining when it sends a resounding ache throughout your body. You feel like you were in a fight and lost – like secondary school all over again – and you can’t help but wish that you could just go back to sleep. 

Your hand comes up to clutch through white fabric at your ribs, hissing when the muscles pull and twinge. 

The feeling is enough to almost bring you to wakefulness, but before sleep can completely flee from you, a hand brushes across your cheek, fingers running gently under your eyes.

“It’s too early.” A voice breathes, warm and low. “Go back to sleep, my precious girl.” It rumbles from beside you, nuzzling into your ear. The sensation has your eyelashes fluttering once more, breathing beginning to even out as you relax into the warmth and comfort of sleep.

Something screams at you, some instinct telling you that you should be running, escaping, getting as far away as possible. But the warmth, the gentle whispering and the soothing touches: the fingers on your cheek, that strokes back your hair, the legs wrapped around your own, and the scent of something spicy and heady slides the thoughts from your mind.

Your eyes shut and your brain takes the chance to pull you back under the spell of sleep.

~

It’s your mum poking her head through the door that wakens you properly.

“Pet, I’m away into the town for a few hours, is there anything you’re wanting?” She asks, and you can make out her form vaguely as you wait for your eyes to adjust. 

“Mnno- no, don’t need nothing, mummy.” You mumble sleepily, neck aching from holding it up to look in the direction of her voice. It takes all of your strength to stop from burrowing back into your duvet, or collapsing back into sleep.

“That’s okay, pet. I’ll see you later on.” 

You mumble a quick “See you later” as your door clicks shut and you hear her footsteps fade into the house. 

Somewhere below, you hear doors slam shut and a car starting. 

Knowing that you have the house to yourself, you decide to enjoy the quiet. You turn and the twinge in your ribs makes you groan this time. 

With the flash of pain, your mind flashes with memories of the night before. Of blood, of fear, of ecstasy, of Levi. 

Fear makes you rise, flinging yourself out of the bed and slamming onto the floor, a sob and a scream leaving your throat at the agony that it sent through your body. 

The bed lies empty. The midday sun is bathing the room in light, and in the stillness you can only feel bereft relief. You wrap your shaking arms around yourself, clenching in the fabric of your shirt. 

Had it all been some fucked up dream? Were you ovulating? Was that it? Was that why you had been thinking such things about Levi? 

You pause. 

Glancing down, you can see that in place of your pyjama jacket is a white t-shirt, at least four sizes too big for you as it rests about your mid-thigh. The fabric is soft but coarser than your pyjama jacket, washed done and well-loved. It’s comfortable. Warm. But, most importantly, it isn’t yours.

The realisation hits you then. You hadn’t dreamed it. You hadn’t made it up. It has you standing, wheezing at the strain of your muscles. You had to have torn something, intercostal muscles or something, or God forbid cracked your ribs. 

Reaching forward you tear the duvet off and nothing is amiss. Your bed is stripped bare, and there is no evidence of glass or blood from the night before. No evidence of what had happened. No evidence of what Levi did to you. 

You feel yourself flush as you remember the pleasure he had given you, but you pale when you remember the sounds of him, his whimpers, the slick sounds of his own pleasure, the feeling when he spilled himself across your stomach. 

Your hands fly to the hem of the shirt, yanking it upwards, and you feel your face crumple when you find your skin clean and untouched. 

He cleaned you , you think, lips trembling and tears filling your eyes, he cleaned you and dressed you .  

Then he left. 

The lack of Levi in your room has you feeling an unusual mix of relief, anger, and anxiety. Relief that he was gone, anger that he thought that he could just walk away after pulling something like that and finally anxiety, because you knew your mum had left to go across town. Kenny probably went with her. It’s a Sunday, the shops will only be opening at one o’clock, and she won't be back for a while. Was Levi still home? Was he still in the house? Had you missed your chance to get away from him? 

All of these thoughts bounce around your head, and you find yourself pacing around your room, clenching and unclenching your fingers, flexing them and shaking them out. 

However long you spent doing this, you’re not quite sure. All you know is that by the time you had calmed enough to stop fretting, your mum and Kenny were back. You can hear them pottering around downstairs, Mum no doubt starting on dinner and Kenny going to do whatever it is that he does on a Sunday afternoon. 

You’re tempted to spend the rest of the day in your room, where you know you’re alone, where you know you’re safe (but then again, you thought you were safe and alone last night). But, you know that your mum will want you down, will want to talk to you, to ask about your day and watch TV with you as usual. 

Still, you can’t bring yourself to leave. Not whilst Levi could still be there. Not whilst your pelvis and your insides still ached, not whilst your heart was still reeling from the whole situation. 

A knock comes at your door. Your mum pops her head around. She looks worried. 

“Everything alright, pet?” She asks, eyebrows pinched together and her smile tight at the corners. 

“Yeah, mum, everything’s grand.” You say, brittle smile plastered across your face, ready to crumble in a second if she lingers too long. 

Her eyes look over you, unbelieving of your words. It makes you tremble internally - your mum always has a knack for knowing when you’re lying, and when you aren’t feeling like yourself, making it extremely difficult to convince her of the opposite. 

“Are you sure, pet?” She questions gently, soft and warm and you desperately want to tell her everything. You desperately want her to hug you and hush you, and tell you that everything is fine, that you’re okay, that your worth hasn’t been diminished by a man’s actions. 

Instead, you smile wider, through your teeth,

“Of course. Just a little bit tired, that's all. Think I need my iron checked again.” You lie, and you’re conflicted: half of you wants her to not believe you, to push and enquire until you spill your guts, but the other half wants her to believe you, and to leave you alone to wallow and lick your wounds in peace. 

“Just,” she starts, mouth pulling into a minute frown, “Levi says that you haven’t left your room all day. Not even for food nor nothing. It’s not like you.” She finishes, and it makes your entire body thrum: with rage, and grief, and fear, and something righteously angry, yet you can’t help feeling grateful. At least he hadn’t completely fucked you over. 

“Yeah,” you grit the words out through gritted teeth, “haven’t felt up to it. Think I just need to take it easy.” 

“If you’re sure. I’ll bring you up something in a wee bit okay? You can’t be eating nothing.” 

You nod, and she moves to leave, but she stops. Turning back, hand grasping the door handle, its a position she’s adopted many a time, one you recognise from your dad as well. You know what follows it. 

“You’ll tell me if something’s wrong won’t you?” She says quietly, whispering it between you like it's a secret. “You know you can talk to me?” You hate the way this makes her so vulnerable. Hate how it makes you want to spill everything to her, the way you usually do. 

“Yeah.” You croak out. “I know.” You smile, and that seems to satisfy her, as she nods, and the door clicks shut quietly behind her as she leaves. 

You suppress a scream as you shake your hands out, and pace in front of the door. 

Levi says that you haven’t left your room all day. 

Levi says that you haven’t left your room all day. 

He’s here. He’s been here all day. Waiting. Watching for you. You’d thought he might have been, but thinking and knowing are two very different things. 

At the very least, he hasn't tried anything else. And Mum was home now, so he wouldn't  dare.

The afternoon passes into the evening. 

You spend it in your room, watching the door, and watching shows on your laptop. 

Kenny had knocked at one point, asking through the door if you were well enough to join them for dinner, but you declined. 

It’s better to stay here , you think, in a four walled box that doesn’t set your nerves alight.  

Sometime later, how much later is hard to tell, with the late evenings making it impossible to tell five o’clock from nine o’clock, you’re dozing off midway through the Devil May Cry anime when you hear your door open. 

The clack of porcelain on wood tells you that your mum has brought you a plate of dinner to try to eat. 

“Thanks mummy.” You mumble, not bothering to open your eyes. 

The bed dips and a hand runs over your hair, and you sigh happily into it. 

It is a welcome comfort to your aching body and heart. 

Minutes drip away like a leaking tap, and you lap up the attention and affection. 

You could fall asleep properly like this. Safe with your mother, petted by her, loved and secure. The sense of security you feel in this moment is something which you have always sought, not that you like to admit it, but it’s the truth. You crave the security, the safety, the love. Anything to not feel like a live wire exposed to the elements and anyone and everyone at all times. 

Nothing would move you from this moment. 

Not even the devil himself.

“Your mum says you’re sick.” 

Tense. Adrenaline rushing. Your eyes snap open and the world snaps into focus. 

The hand on your head keeps petting. 

You rise carefully. Gingerly. Twisting and turning around, breathing sharply at the pain in your ribs.

Levi sits atop your bed, looking the picture of innocent concern. It disgusts you how he looks genuinely worried. Like he can’t conceive of any possible reason why you aren’t feeling like yourself, why you’ve hidden yourself away from him all day. 

His hand drops from your head as you rise, and it runs along your ribs, making you whimper and twitch away from his touch. 

He tuts quietly. 

“I checked earlier as well. They aren’t broken. Probably just bruised. Let’s look out of windows instead of jumping out of them next time hm?” His grey eyes meet yours, and in the evening light he looks so soft, the collar of his shirt lying low and hanging off his shoulder. You take note of the small red scabs dotted around his hairline, as well as one directly above his eyebrows. You’re curious how he managed to spin that. What lie he managed to spin to have your mother write it off. 

His words make you seethe. 

“Maybe next time we should keep our hands to ourselves, hm?” You spit, but it doesn’t have the desired effect. In fact, it seems to have little effect. Levi simply stares at you, calculating, with that strange look in his eyes.

“I wasn’t anticipating your stupidity and willingness to endanger yourself.” Levi starts, nonplussed by your comment and anger. “I’ll make sure that you won’t hurt yourself as much in future. Though, I admire your dedication.” He speaks and it’s like he's commenting on the weather, or consulting on a business case,  not at all apologetic nor remorseful. 

“Get out.” You say. It’s not quite the shout you had wanted. In fact, it’s not any louder than a whisper, but Levi tilts his head in acknowledgement. He runs his hand over your ribs one last time before he stands, brushing off his jeans, and padding softly over to your door. 

A moment before it shuts, he opens it again, and meets your eyes head on. 

You feel bare and naked and like you did last night all over again. 

You hate that fear isn’t the only thing burning in your gut. 

He waits a moment before he asks, 

“Does it hurt?”

For a second, you don’t know what he’s talking about, but you follow his eye line and flush when you realise where he’s staring. 

“Get the fuck out!” You shriek, and the door doesn’t slam but it does bang shut. 

You turn back over and suppress a sob, borne from stress and an outpouring of emotions. 

You just want to sleep. 

A last minute idea. 

Gingerly rising, you amble over to your desk and drag the chair to the door, shoving it under the handle like you’d seen people do in films. 

Contented, you lie back down and pull the duvet back up over you. 

Sleep comes for you eventually, and you hate how you wish that Levi had kept stroking your hair, if only to make sleep come faster. 

You drift off, with one thing on your mind. 

Him.  

[multiversxwhore]

Shadows That Follow You Home: pt.1

⚠️warning: this story contains mentions of sexual assault, violence, humiliation, degradation, and sadist behaviour. Please do not read if any of these are triggers for you, you have been warned.

a/n: this is based off the Netflix series ‘You’, as much as I love Joe Goldberg(Penn Badgley) I’ve been having fun writing Jonathan Majors, so in this adaptation’ Jonathan is Joe(except I renamed the character here just fyi). Now that we’ve gotten that out the way… enjoy this dark ass, chaotic ass first chapter 😈⏰

Word count: 1k

(gif belongs to @earthgif )

“Please just let me go. Let me go you fucking crazy psycho!” Brian Carter, rich white college boy with the world in the palm of his hands. He stared at me wide eyed, shocked, and confused. He’s been down in my makeshift glass jail for about a week, I was being lenient though; I should have done this the first time I found out how much of a prick he was.

“I’ll give you another chance, why do you think I’ve taken you Brian? Use your brain this time, I assume you’re smart enough since you went to a fancy school and all.” I mocked him, he didn’t like that, because how dare I make light of such a prestigious institution.

“If you wanted money that’s all you had to say, okay look, I’ll give you my debit card, the PIN code. You can have it all I don’t give a fuck man, just let me go.” Brian begged, he began to sob, tears flowing from his cheeks, and his face turning a bright red. Well this is a shocker, the way he used to hound women, you’d think he would handle this in a more “manly” way. Guess I was wrong.

“What– no, this has nothing to do with money, if that’s what I wanted I would have taken it right out of your trust fund. No, what I want is to make you feel, like how you’ve made every woman you’ve encountered feel.” I walked closer to the large glass cell, my body felt hot as the images of all his victims I found in his phone passed my mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I swear.” He cried harder, his breathing hitched, his face wet with a mixture of tears, and sweat. If I were him, I’d be sweating too, I’d be nervous looking at me. I can only imagine the lifeless look in my eyes, the cold stare, my calm, and calculating demeanor.

“You’re a sleaze Brian! A pervert, pig.” I spat at him, each word making him cower into the corner even further.

“No, no, no.” He cried.

“You’re a predator. At least you thought you were, until you ran into me.” I put the clothes in the drawer on my side, and push them into the cell to his side. He hesitated to move at first, I nodded my head in approval, so he dug into the drawer to retrieve the items. He held up the dress infront of him, his eyes lids wide open, then he looked at me, and that’s when he realized what was going on.

“How does he know me?” He whispered to himself, I could see the wheels turning, but he wasn't connecting the dots fast enough. I was starting to feel impatient.

“Morgan Pentagrini, a pretty little woman, big hair, with big dreams of being a writer? I mean but all you say was more pussy you could slide up into huh?”

“I’m sorry, you’re doing all this over her! That bitch is so lame bro.” He dragged his hands down his face, he tried to slow down his panicked breaths, but that did nothing.

“Is that why you tried to raped her? You got bored too easily so you thought you could use her, and throw her out like trash?”

“That’s what she told you? She was loaded! Morgan was throwing herself all over me like some thot, and you know what else, she can act all innocent all she wants. Get a few beers in her, all of a sudden she’s got kinks.”

“Put the clothes on Brian.” I ordered him, though I’m sure my face is relaxed, my tone even, I felt rage rattling from the pits of my stomach. The longer I looked at him, the less likely I am to pace myself.

“You can’t make me do shit, fuck you.”

“Let me give you some motivation.” I pulled out a gun from my pocket, there were perfect circles cut into the glass to let air in for the books, but it was just big enough to fit the tip of the gun in.

Quickly he started to dress himself, frantically he pulled on the dress, and jacket. Suddenly his macho stance disintegrated, a look of shame, and embarrassment etched across his chiseled features. Good, that’s exactly how he should feel. “Now, when I give you the cue, I want you to dance like a stripper, and Brian, you better dance like your life depends on it…because it does.”

I pulled out his phone that I took from his jacket pocket, opened the camera, and began to record. “Ladies and Gentlemen, you are witnessing the deconstructing of Brian Carter. This man has harassed, drugged, and sexually assaulted multiple young women in the Lower Manhattan area. Out of respect for the victims, I won’t say their names, but they know who they are. To those young women, I apologize on behalf of…men, especially the wines like Brian Carter. This is one less stain in the world.” With my free hand I pointed the gun at him, he let out a yelp, but started to dance suggestively. His body trembled, tears in his eyes, he sobbed during the whole thing, but I still felt insatiable.

“I’m sorry, Morgan, Alicia, Jackie…god I’m sorry. I’ll be better I swear, I won’t do it again. Please let me go!” Brian whimpered, his face contorted into a pained expression, but this wasn’t even the worst of it. I set the phone down, pulled out a pair of gloves from my jacket pocket, and approached the glass cell. Brian is still on his knees apologizing I’m a hushed voice over, and over again. How pathetic.

“Any last words?” As I stand over him, I feel no remorse, no guilt, or no shame. I had to do this, because if not me, then who?

“You sick son of a bitch! They’ll come looking for me!” He shouted, it was a poor attempt at a plea deal, I guess he ran out of things to say now that the truth is out.

“Let them, they’ll be chasing after a ghost.” I dropped down on top of him, Brian is a fairly decent sized man, but his strength as a swimmer, versus my football build, is nothing when you compare the two. My hands slowly wrapped around his neck, now…I could easily end this in seven minutes, but I wanted to enjoy this for as long as possible. I could feel the blood excitedly pumping through my veins to my heart leaving my brain unattended, but the lack of oxygen gave me a sense of euphoria like no other. I inhaled deeply; the smell of old dusty books, mixed with the stench of musk only a man in the brink of death could give off filled my nostrils. He began to squirm in my grasp, his hands clasped around my wrist as he tried to pry my hands off him. As I continue to add more pressure onto his trachea, I stare Brian deeply in his panicked eyes, I can see your beautiful face looking back at me.

Why are you looking at me like that? Like this isn’t what you wanted, okay I get it, my methods are a bit extreme. But it’s too late now, you said the words ‘I just wished Brian died some mysterious death so that I wouldn’t have to ever see him again’ yea you said that. I heard you say it to your best friend, Cardíerre, when you two were having a sleepover at her house two weeks ago. You’ll be regretting that statement when the news breaks, but you know what they say…be careful what you wish for.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #15

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction, posted daily and usually written with the intention of being terrible… in an endearing way. Thank you all so much for reading, liking, reblogging, and enjoying these Brain Curds. The feedback has been so nice to receive, and writing these every day has boosted my mood and mental health substantially, to the point that I think I'm finally ready to share with you a highly requested excerpt from It Goes Up.

As many of you know, but I shall explain here, It Goes Up was a short story of over 3400 words which I conceived of and wrote in one single day in an act of mania and desperation. It was based on a dream I'd had the night before that I couldn't get out of my head, so I put it on paper instead. I could scarcely eat or drink the entire day as I worked on it, wasting away. I nearly collapsed into bed when it was finished.

The next day, having gotten myself at least some amount of sleep, I was horrified to read what I had committed to page. It was one of the most disgusting, life-ruining things my mind has ever been accosted with (and that is truly saying something). But I read it to one of my best friends anyway, and she agreed - this story was cursed, and if I unleashed it upon the world, I would be forever branded by its scarlet letter and its image would be burned into the minds of whoever was unfortunate enough to read it.

I remain disturbed by It Goes Up. I do not look at it. I try not to think about it. No physical copy exists and I hold the only keys to the digital representation, buried away in my files. You will never read it - not in its complete form, anyway - until I am long dead and buried. And even then, you should not. But I can see no major harm in showing you just a small tidbit. Perhaps to prove to you that it really exists. To prove to myself that I did not just imagine the fever dream that was creating it.

Tread carefully as you continue reading below.

Off-balance from the weight of shopping bags in her hands and the thirty dollar stilettos on her feet, Charlie hobbled over to the elevator. She’d parked her car in the garage below, and this was the most convenient way to return to it. She set down her bags at the door, just about to press the call button when the foot of a simple-looking cane pressed it for her.

“Good afternoon, my dear,” said the smiling man wielding it. He had striking blue eyes, curly graying hair, and a trim goatee to match it. He wore a plain looking button-up shirt (the top button undone) and a pair of unusually nice tailored mauve slacks. “May I ask - what brought you to the mall today?”

Charlie wasn’t used to people striking up conversation for no reason - in fact, it made her downright uncomfortable on the odd occasions it did happen. But something about him seemed familiar and safe all of a sudden, like he was a grandfatherly presence who had in some way or another been in her life always.

“I just like to come here and shop, mostly.”

“Mostly?” He asked, as if it were a leading question.

“I mean…” Charlie was a bit thrown off, but ignored it. “I really just came to find some new clothes. That’s all. I picked up some lunch while I was here, too.” She tapped the smallest of her three paper bags with her foot.

“My, my…” He seemed worried. “Did something happen to your old clothes?”

“Well, no…” she replied, confused. “It just feels good to buy things.”

“Ah,” he smirked, and gave a knowing wink. “Say no more. That is as good a reason as any, in my book.”

She smiled at him, but she wasn’t quite sure what to think about the man.

The elevator arrived with a ding-ding, and the doors opened. He gestured into the elevator cabin, inviting Charlie to go in first. She picked up her three bags and stepped inside, with the man following.

[lorianbladeoflothric]

These girls are camping out in my brain lately, have some headcanons about Millie and her sisters (readmore for length)

All of them - the sisters (minus Pollyanna) lived in Sellia when they were very young - They were kicked out when either their Rot or Gowry’s position within the rot cult became known - The sealed god of rot speaks to them, as it does Malenia. Not usually in words as much as compulsions, dreams, and fleeting visions. This is what draws them all to the Halligtree to kill Millicent, whether they want to or not.

I'm gonna be honest, I wrote all of this (and that fic the other day) assuming it was said that Millicent would be the only one to become a valkyrie, not just the strongest. I....don't know if that's canon, actually, because I can't find the quote? So. If that's wrong, then. pretend it's not? Au where I'm not wrong is in effect for this post. ^^;

Mary -She grew up being told that they would all be reborn as Valkyries and as the eldest she saw herself as their leader. That all came crashing down when they learned only Millicent would be reborn and she’s felt lost ever since. - Despite that, she tries not to resent her little sister. - She acts more like a mother than an older sister to them at times, especially to Polly and Amy - Out of all of them, she’s the most into the rot god cult. She fully believes everything Gowry has told them and even associates with the mushroom servants and the kindred of rot (who creep all of the others out) - Determined to be seen as worthy by Malenia, she even learned to fight by studying (and aggro-ing) the cleanrot knights in the swamp - Often has nightmares of herself or her sisters dying

Maureen - She’s a cynic, and kind of a bitch, always has some kind of out of pocket comment waiting, but her abrasive personality hides a soft spot. - When her god and mother seemed to look her over, she turned to the golden order, drawn in by the promise of endless prosperity for all and wanting to make up for the suffering the Scarlet Rot has caused. - She left first and hasn’t been back since - On the surface, the rot seems to have affected her the least (which she would say is a blessing from the erdtree), but she deteriorated mentally faster than the other girls. As such she’s easily confused and forgets things often - Has to use a two-handed weapon as part of her dominant hand has rotted away. She’s either too stubborn or too unaware to remove it entirely

Amy - Softspoken and kind - The rot has affected her the most out of all of them. She’s lost her eyes, her hearing on one side, and both of her legs - The only thing that slowed the progression of her rot was the techniques she learned from the blind swordsman - She traveled with him for a time, and grew to enjoy sword fighting as an art (but she still hates to hurt others) - When Mary lost her sight, Amy was the one who taught her how to adapt. - She isn’t sure what she believes anymore, having experienced so much of the world but still feeling the pull of the outer god of rot from within her

Milli rock - She's almost illiterate. The old sage couldn't take any books when he and the girls were kicked out of Sellia, and there's not exactly a Caelid County Library. She can read juuuuust enough to get by. - Her nightmares show her wreaking death and destruction upon the lands between. - Before getting the needle, they were often so bad that she would try and go without sleep for as long as possible - She loves the sea, the sound of the waves is comforting to her.

Polyanna - The only one not found by Gowry, but by commander O’Neil. Despite being driven mad by rot, O’Neil kept her safe until she was found and stolen away (for the better) - She feels pulled in many different directions by her sisters. Eventually she decides to seek the Halligtree and speak with Malenia, wishing to know what her mother fought for. - Like Millicent, she can't read very well. - Since she uses the blade of calling, I think she would have attempted to become a finger maiden if her fate hadn't already been planned out

[singsthecagelessbird]

February 15, 2023

Today, I learnt a new word: "superficial." It’s a really cool word. I always thought, in my ignorance, that it describes grandeur, invincibility, and power. I think I might have described myself as superficial once. It is so embarrassing. The word, when used on people, means “shallow,” just insipid. I thought about it on my way home, and I said to myself, all this knowledge in your big head is just superficial. That was the clue; you need to attain depth.

As I’m writing this, I’m very afraid. I am afraid of what I may become and I’m very afraid of not becoming that also. It’s a crazy predicament I have lived with for a very long time. I’m very smart, but I didn’t see this; I could never understand this. Why? I am afraid, I’m very afraid. Is it because I dream big and think it’s just not possible? My foresight doesn’t provide enough possibilities to pursue this madness. I question the dream, I doubt the dream, I doubt myself; I’m afraid that it’s not possible. The possibility of it still scares the hell out of me. A paradox, I tell you. I don’t want to write it down. Why? Is it because I know that it will have to materialize and it’s my responsibility? I am afraid, I am afraid of ME.

WHO IS ME, BY THE WAY?

Selfish, controlling, clueless, confused, stubborn, nobody. That’s not me, at least stubborn yes, but I am not all these things. I am much more than that. Sometimes I think the heavens mistakenly gave a pretty face a smart brain, but the heavens don’t make mistakes, right? It was intentional, it was for a greater purpose, something bigger than me, and I know it. It doesn’t matter how much I deny it, it keeps calling. I know there is a ME inside this body that is fashioned for greatness and abundance. There is a ME inside this body that has to create MAGIC.

WHAT DOES THIS “ME” WANT?

I want to influence. I love this other quote by Steve Jobs, he said: “the ones who are crazy enough to think they can change the world are the ones who do.” I learned quoting today from this other journalism manual I’m reading; I hope I did it right. Why this quote? Because Gasethata always dreamed of changing the world. From a young age she only dreamed of conquering herself, her environment, and shepherding the world to blissful madness. I want to change the world. When I close my eyes, I imagine myself speaking to people. I saw Oprah on TV once, and I thought this is what I want to do for my entire life: JUST SPEAK.

WHAT DO I SPEAK ABOUT REALLY?

I never got this one right, until recently. Well, if I persisted in getting it wrong, I would have become a preacher at my local church, not bad for the daughter of a church leader, hey? Was it preaching I loved, or what I preached about that I loved? That’s when I discovered psychology because I realized it’s the power of the mind that I’m interested in. With this, I can learn psychoanalysis, behaviorism, and I can tell people about the power they possess, the God-given power to create magic and command the universe. I always knew there was more to life than this mediocrity that we call order.

I started working in a school; as a smart student, I always thought common sense was very common. I encountered quite the opposite; I went home one day and cried, my students couldn’t get the simple things and it wasn’t because they were dumb; somebody just stunted their growth and now they couldn’t think, they were not even remotely aware of the power they had. How many more kids? I was determined to make a difference; well, the year before I had miraculously managed to follow Habakkuk 2 vs. 2, I wrote down my dream. I wanted to have a school where kids are going to learn stuff that matters, DREAMS, THINKING, LITERATURE, HISTORY. I was going to call it HOUSE OF DREAMS. Oh, I’d offer dance classes too. The heavens work in mysterious ways; I wrote this down, and the following year, I worked in a school. I didn’t see that. But I did teach those kids how to think like pros, at least that I did well.

#Reflections

#JustDoIt

[tired-biscuit]

How would the Naruto idiot friend group survive or how long they’d last during no nut november I wonder 🤔💭

—🐻

i actually have a moot that did a similar kind of post, here's the link. it was a really fun read, so check it out if you feel like it!!

i know it's not a group of idiots necessarily, but i chose kiba and naruto simply because i think they have the most potential to share custody of a single brain cell (and because they're my faves, lol.) it's all under the cut, because it's obv nsfw.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: just two horny morons suffering because of NNN 🧡 fem!reader, 18+ mdni

𝘄𝗰: 900+ words

𝗞𝗜𝗕𝗔

Fails.

Don’t get me wrong, the man is determined to last – and is loud about it, too – but as soon as it comes to actually committing to NNN, Kiba is all bark and no bite. He lasts not even two full days before his hand winds up in his pants, which, if you take his sky-high libido into consideration, is pretty good actually.

His ego makes him act all smug and proud the first night; he’s messing around in the group chat, talking about how good that first nut on the 1st of December is going to feel, and yet by the second night he’s already growing agitated and snippy because he’s used to jerking one out before bed or early in the morning when he wakes up with a literal coke can in his sweatpants.

He’s so pent-up that he even dreams some whacky-ass scenario with you between his legs, his best friend; drooling and sucking the literal life out of him with that cutesy mouth that always likes to talk shit whenever he teases you, and for some odd reason: it’s enough to make him admit defeat.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat like he’s just had a nightmare despite that it was the literal opposite, and with the image of your cute face covered in his cum still somewhere in the back of his mind. He can still feel your hands on his thighs, the weight of your slick tongue on his dick. So he says ‘Fuck it.’ and opens up Pornhub on his phone. He taps the first video that catches his eye and finishes at the initial blowjob part not even five minutes in whilst his mind insists on replaying that goddamn scenario with you instead. 

The amount of cum he’s managed to produce just because he hasn’t touched himself in two days is unholy. Or it might be because you’re someone who he’s just now realized that he wants so, so badly. Who knows.

He sleeps like a baby afterwards, despite that the post-nut clarity chews on his pride a little. The confused feelings he harbours for you don’t help either. And when he wakes up in the morning, still grumpy but now at least without the persistent ache in his balls from being so horny all the time, all he does is jack off again because it’s literally pointless now and he might as well try to feel good about being a lovestruck loser.

The others know he’s failed the moment he’s actually quiet in the group chat. He doesn’t tell them about the reason as to why, though. Just slaps that ‘seen’ like the sensitive cancer sign that he is, and texts you instead.

𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗨𝗧𝗢

Fails.

Naruto lasts surprisingly longer than he initially thought he would, despite that he took the entire thing as a joke at first. Still, he’s determination incarnate and competitive – as most young men his age are – and he’s going strong for about a week or two just to prove a point that consequently doesn’t even hold any meaning in the end. 

And it shows. Not being able to spill his load makes him impatient. He’s always jittery; bouncing his knee whilst sitting on the couch in your living room while you watch movies and a suggestive scene pops up, staring at you from the corner of his eye for just a little bit too long all the time. After all, Naruto is already touchy and needy on the norm, especially around you, so not being able to stuff his dick inside your warm cunt and bully it to his heart’s content is simply annoying.

What do I even get out of this? Is it worth it? What’s the fuckin’ point, really? – These questions are the only thing he thinks about lately.

However, despite the lack of intimacy during November, his evident struggle is awfully amusing to you. So you egg him on, acting all sweet and coy whilst executing your plans that would lead to his demise like some evil mastermind in the making.

You wear those pretty dresses that show off the tops of your thighs whenever you step onto your tippy-toes and wrap your arms around your tortured boyfriend’s neck. Press your chest to his own real tight, so that he can surely feel your soft tits squish against him, especially late in the evening when you’re both just chilling at home and you’re not wearing a bra underneath the tiny shirts you all of a sudden like putting on around him.

It’s all fun and games – for you, of course. Still, Naruto doesn’t yield all that easily. He just refuses to give.

However, two weeks are certainly a lot for a man with a sex drive so high that it reaches past the clouds. Every little thing, may it be intentional or not, is like a trigger inside that horny pea-brain of his. And because of it, it takes you literally nothing more than bending over in your tight gym shorts for his willpower to finally crack.

You’re in the kitchen, searching for a freaking pot to cook dinner in and not attempting to appear enticing at all for once, and yet the moment his warm hand traces the curve of your ass over the smooth spandex, it’s game over.

Soldier down, his dick ends up buried deep inside your pussy before you can even lay eyes on the stupid pot.

[ch4nb4ng]

Evil Roommate

pairing: leeknow x afab!reader, roommates enemies to lovers

warnings: softdom!lino, cheating (mentioned), making out, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering penetration, cum play (?), praise

requested : yes!

word count 6.2k

summary: the new roommate was a handful. lazy, disrespectful, arrogant, and a whole bunch of other negative things. but wow, you were sexually frustrated and he, well, attractive, was an understatement.

“Can you actually like, wash your kitchen utensils when you're done using them?”

The amount of huffing and puffing you have heard from your new roommate in the past two weeks was ridiculous. If you had a dollar for every time he had gone against anything you had politely asked for, you would be rich by now, and definitely stable enough to move out and away from him.

“I will,” he mumbled, mouth stuffed with half of the carrot he was chewing on, very loudly, “can I not enjoy my food first?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation, giving the fakest of smiles in return, “you should do it before you eat.”

Another eye roll from Minho was like water off a duck’s back.

“I'd also appreciate it if you didn’t talk to me with your mouth full of food either.”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

You coughed, turning on your hills to face a very unimpressed roommate. His stare was eye shattering. Yes, he was very, no, extremely good looking. However, every single thing that made up his personality could not be more different to you. Sloppy, messy, lazy. Took no responsibility for any of his actions, especially the high pitch noises (that obviously were not his) you would hear from his room in the early hours of the morning. You would pinch your pillow together, praying extremely hard that the noise would stop, and by the time it did, you would get maybe 2, 3 hours of sleep. College was becoming tiring, not only from staying up to complete assessments, but the lewd noises you could hear from at least 2 people in his room. Your blunt attitude towards Minho’s unhygienic and disrespectful habits were definitely justified.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why do you nitpick everything I do?”

Your jaw dropped, completely dumbfounded.

“Me? Nitpicking you? Please,” you scoffed, “you don't clean up after yourself ever, you leave your dirty clothes everywhere, and don't even get me started on the fact that I barely get any sleep because of your wild sex adventures with other people that occur almost every weeknight, when you know I have to wake up early to go to class next day.”

A combination of frustration and exhaustion could be heard through the harshness of each breath. The smirk that appeared on his face was absolutely punch worthy. What on earth was there to be so cocky of?

“My wild sex adventures,” he paused taking a bite of the dreaded carrot, “please, tell me more about my wild sex adventures.”

His tongue was now obviously pressed against his cheek, a devil coated smile still very apparent on his face. The longer he was looking at you like that, the hotter your cheeks became. Pure anger began to course through you; all he had to do was sit there and look pretty. It was definitely enough for you to get the green light to slap him across the face.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hissed, “I don’t need to explain how I can hear them moaning your name every night, or the banging I hear from wall to-”

“Hmm,” he hummed, “you seem to be listening very well.”

Distracted by your anger for a brief moment, you gasped suddenly, feeling Minho’s fingertips at your sides. You turned around, swatting his hands away, giving him that slap that you felt you had earned across the face.

“Who the fuck said you could touch me?

“Did you just fucking slap me?”

“Yes I fucking did,” you spat, “what do you take me for?”

“You know what you’re right, but you walk around here with a stick up your ass. I hear you on the phone to your friends, complaining about how you don't get any action from anyone.”

You stood there in disbelief. “So you’ve been eavesdropping on my convos as well?”

“Well it’s kind of hard not to hear, you know, the walls in this house are kind of thin.”

Your jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed, the conversation was at a stand still.

“Can you get to the point please?”

“I sure can sweetheart,” the name sending a shiver down your spine, “if you're that sexually frustrated, go and do something about it instead of taking it out on me?”

A laugh that you didn't even know you were capable of bellowed from your chest. You stumbled back, grabbing onto stool behind the bench for support.

“Me? Sexually frustrated? Please,” you huffed, “I’m not sexually frustrated, and it definitely has nothing to do with you.”

Another scoff escaped your lips as you shuffled back to your room. Closing the door behind you, a heavy sigh came from your chest as you sat on the edge of your bed. How on earth was he able to read you like that? So well and so accurate? It was all you could think about, not to mention the fact that it was also night time simultaneously.

You let your body fall onto your bed sheets. The feeling of restlessness was consuming your body. As you crawled into bed, you looked straight into the ceiling. Why were you thinking about his words so much? Were you really taking it out on him? You shook your head, mentally slapping yourself for even considering the thought.

Minho was a lazy slob who was extremely inconsiderate of others, especially you. But why was the thought of his fingers on your sides becoming the main source of agitation.? The silence of your thoughts was deafening, but they were easily interrupted as soon as you heard the door open, a high pitched voice followed what felt like the most ludicrous creek you had ever heard. ‘I should really put some oil on the door huh?’ You paused for a couple of seconds, this time physically face palming yourself for the dumb excuse you had made to see who he had decided to bring over to accompany him tonight. Legs completely ignoring your brain, you were out of bed, hand twisting the knob and peeking a look at the poor girl that would be subjected to Minho’s torture tonight. Tip toeing out of the doorway, you kept the weight of a feather on your toes, making yourself as invisible as possible.

“Y/n?”

Your pink panther stance of attempted deception looked utterly ridiculous and not sly at all was extremely confusing to the two. You quickly relaxed into a normal stance, the fakest of smiles coming across your face as you see who it is he brought home to have his way with.

“Chaeyeon… heyyy,” you lingered, “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

You would have been happy with literally anyone else. But Chaeyeon? Chaeyeon? It’s like she was your number one arch rival. Minho knew how much you hated her, yet he still let her come over. Everything about her you could not stand, not to mention the fact that she home wrecked your last serious relationship. Even though it was a while ago, you can forgive but not forget, her face being a constant reminder of your hurtful past.

“Oh hey Y/N,” she almost signed, her amount of excitement to see you matching yours, “I didn’t know you lived here.”

The arm he had around her waist made you sick.

“There’s a lot of things you don't know about me,” you mumbled, foot swaying back and forth, eyes focused on said foot.

“Okay, so you guys have had a little reunion,” Minho interrupted. Anything would have been better to break the awkward silence than his sarcastic comments, “we’re gonna go to my room now.”

“NO!” you interjected, covering the hallway with every bit of your being, “I mean, what’s the rush huh? Changbin is coming over as well.”

You paused, Minho’s face clearly cussing you out if yelling was inappropriate at this current moment.

“Uh no thanks Y/N-”

“We should all hang out!”

The excitement coming from your voice was so inauthentic, it was hard to miss.

“Yeah! Let’s all hang out,” you walked behind them, placing a hand on each of their backs and you hurried them to the couch, “I’ll get some beers in the fridge.”

“I actually only drink vodka,” Chaeyeon yawns, obnoxiously twirling her hair, her other hand aggravatingly high on his thigh.

“Oh that’s totally fine,” you gritted through tightly clenched teeth, “we have a bottle in the fridge, I’ll grab that for you as well.”

You scuffled back over to the fridge, mentally cursing yourself as you grabbed the necessary beverages. The confusion you were giving yourself about why you were putting in so much effort to spend time with the two people you literally hated more than anything was mind baffling

“So,” you began again, passing a Corona to Minho, a glass to Chaeyeon, “how have you been finding your course so far?”

You sat the Smirnoff and Orange juice on the table. Yes, you were being nice, but not nice enough to pour the drink for this bitch.

“Oh it was so great,” she smiled, “Jisung and I were living together, it was, well, a dream really.”

The feeling of your nails became prominent in your fists as your fingers caved in. The mention of his name was enough to make you see red, let alone the idea of them being happily together. The itch of your eye begging to roll was becoming too prominent, so much that you had to get up and walk away for a second. You stood up abruptly, confusion etched into Minho’s features. You didn’t want to make this a big deal, but the fact that she continued to gloat about it, long after you stopped listening was enough to reach your breaking point.

“I think I heard my phone ringing from my room, it must be Changbin.”

“I don't think I hear anything,” Minho smirked, plastering his lips on the edge of the bottle. The way his lips wrapped around the tip of the warm glass was something you ‘accidentally’ became fixated on. You puffed your cheeks, storming to your room and somewhat aggressively shutting the door behind you. Scrambling for your phone on the bedside table, you panicked, unclear mind as you scrolled through your phone contacts. You paused, an inducing amount of oxygen filling up your lungs. It did little to calm the irritated tingling sensation in your fingers.

Changbin’s name had finally popped up on your phone after what had felt like a lifetime.

“Hello?”

His voice was husky, guilt panging your chest as you realsied you had probably woken him up from his not very often deep slumber.

“Changbin,” you gasped, “you know how much I love you right?”

“What do you need me to do?”

You snickered at his words. He had been your friend for too long to know that those words would never be said unless you needed something.

“Can you come over,” you pleaded, “Chaeyeon is here with Minho because he invited her over late at night, and I told them you were coming over?”

“Jesus Y/n,” Changbin sighed, a playful chuckle tickling your cheek, “so you want me to come over and make Minho jealous?”

“Wait no wtf,” you jumbled, “make Minho jealous? I just want you to flirt with me and Chaeyeon so she leaves.”

“Mhm yeah,” he chuckled once more, voice laced with sarcasm as he spoke, “I’ll come over, but if you don't sleep with him by the end of the night, I’m gonna be extremely disappointed.”

“Yeah okay whatever just get your ass over here now.”

And with that you abruptly ended the phone call, Changbin giving you no peace of mind. Were you this easy to read by everybody? A frustrated sigh exploded from your chest. The games your head and your heart were playing with were helping you come to no resolution. You sat on your bed, thoughts were running crazy. Now would be a really great time to just put on Netflix and curl into bed, have some snacks and fall asleep, chip trail on ur chest to be found in the morning.

You were interrupted by the very loud knock on the door. Sprinting like your life depended on it, you were relieved. Seeing Changbin’s face had never before given you so much joy.

“Changbin,” you shouted, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.

“Y/n what are you doing-”

“Shut up and go along with it,” you mumbled into his chest, letting up, but still keeping your body tightly wounded against his. Minho’s jaw became clenched, or were you just imagining things?

Regardless of what it was, your brain quickly shifted to the way Chaeyeon was eyeing Changbin up and down, almost like it was the first time she had ever seen an attractive male. ‘She definitely wasn’t looking at Minho like that when he walked in’ you thought, an unconscious smirk coming to mouth. You bit down on your bottom lip, an extremely poor attempt at masking the satisfaction of your goal being achieved so easily. One step closer to kicking her out, for good, because there was no way you weren’t talking to Minho after this about making an explicit declaration of her abandonment from this house.

“Minho,” he smiled, earning a nod, “Chaeyeon,” he smirked, an almost gag spilling out of your mouth.

“Changbin,” she followed, repeating his smirk, “long time no see.”

She gulped, engulfing a large sip of alcohol into her wicked mouth.

“Let’s play a game!”

“A game,” you questioned, raising an eyebrow, “why would we play-”

“I think that’s a great idea!”

You turned to look at him, a puzzled expression still very apparent on your facial features.

“Get the vodka out from the fridge, and let’s get started.”

***

Two bottles of vodka down, and what looked like 8 bottles of Corona sitting empty on the table, the games that were being played were becoming more difficult to comprehend. Sound of giggle and laughter constantly filled the room as everyone slowly began to lose their minds to the intoxication.

“O-okay, never have I e-ever, done a sexual act in public.”

Filters of chuckles and laughter filled the room as everyone, but you took a sip.

“What?” she asked, offering you her fake sympathy, “you’ve never done anything like that before?”

“I-I mean,” you stuttered, the look of confusion was evident, “I don’t think I have-”

“Yes you have.”

All eyes were snapped open and pressing into Minho’s skull as he began to converse.

“Pfft, no I have not,” you scoffed, taking another swig. An eye roll left came from Minho, followed by a sound of what seemed to be disgust as he shot gunned his current bottle.

“Yes you have,” he nagged, playfully hitting your shoulder, “I saw you.”

Complete silence fell over the room as he words lingered in the air. You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.The feeling of the room had suddenly changed. His eyes became soft, fixated on nothing but the way your body slumped against the rough material of the couch.

Your mind began to drift. Thoughts floating into earlier scenes of the night. The closeness of his breath fanning your neck ever so softly, palms spread across your hips. The idea of marks on you swimming into your head. God that would feel so good. Letting him grab you and throw you onto his bed. Climbing up your frame, starting from the bottom of your legs, keeping a tight grip on your inner thighs. The feeling of faint lips stealing every inch of your being, tantalisingly hitting every, single, spot, finally reaching your-

“Y/N? Y/N!”

The feeling of Changbin's shaking your shoulders definitely brought you back to reality. His hands did feel nice, but they weren’t the ones you were longing for. Your head was thrown back, disbelief filling you as your mind continued to fill the gutter.

“When?”

As you moved closer, you giggled, placing your finger tip across his knee. You let them dance, index fingers tapping away at the skin you so desperately wanted to see in this moment.

“Mr. Lee Minho, when did you see me?”

“I’m not saying it here in front of-”

“Who? Chaeyeon?”

Your prowling continued, bodies even closer as you slowly began to climb him like an inanimate object. This would have been completely awkward sober. Nothing about this was romantic in the slightest. To an outsider, or Changbin and Chaeyeon, you were right there, situated across Minho’s lap. It wasn’t quite a straddle, it was just something. They both stayed quiet, paying little attention to your animalistic act, already focused on feeling each other up. Or so you assumed, seeing as they didn’t say anything. All that was heard was the sound of the front door. You snapped your head for a quick moment, eyes scanning the emptiness the room suddenly felt.

“It was in the car.”

Minho’s words felt heavy, like he had more to say.

“The car?”

You were taken aback, face moving away from the closeness of his. Part of your brain clicked, remembering exactly what he was talking about. With Jisung. The memory of hurt was quickly forgotten as the feeling of Minho’s palms spread across your body was bringing you to life. The adrenaline came all at once. Your mind was telling you to move away, but your body was saying something else, affirming it’s position.

Minho was leaning in, barely any spaces between the two as his fingertips began to spread lower and lower, firmly gripping either side of your ass as he moved you closer. A helpless whimper escaped your lips as you felt your legs tighten, heat running down to your core, quickly. What the fuck was happening right now?

“You were on top of him,” he whispered, pulling your hips against him once more, “just like this.”

“F-fuck,” was all that managed to slip out of your lips. This was becoming difficult. So difficult to say no and move away. You knew it was the right thing to do. Things would just be awkward and you could go back to hating him. No matter how much you tried, how much you wanted to, you were powerless. Every fiber of your being was being given up to him. You leaned in closer, foreheads now touching as you looked at him. His gaze was anything but lacklustre as his jaw became tense. His body began to ache simultaneously with yours. The pressure was becoming too much.

“Do you want this?”

“What?”

A small whine escaped you at the loss of his tips gripping your body. They quickly made their way to either side of your face. Your body began to rock back and forth on it’s own. You had become desperate for any sort of friction that you could create.

“I said, do you want this?”

“Do you?”

His expression made you nervous. It was hard to read. All you could see was the black substance of his pupils enlarge, increasing in diameter by the second. Almost like a supernatural being was possessing him.

“Fuck,” you grunted, wrapping your hands around his neck to steady yourself on top of him, “you’re making it hard to say no.”

Things were already becoming hazy the longer you stayed. A huff of frustration came from him as he was giving all his effort not to give into the way you were rubbing your dampening heat against him. It was like a drug he could not refuse.

“Kiss me if you want me.”

He huffed, the edge of his lips just barely brushing against the tip of your nose.

“Kiss me, and give me the green light.”

You waited a moment, any part of your brain that wasn't concentrated solely on his palms digging into your sides trying to reason. You looked at him once more. His eyes, nose, lips. His lips.

“Fuck it.”

He was quick to work, pushing you down to lie flat against the couch. A small kiss to your lips was felt as he pulled away, lifting his arms up and throwing his shirt to the floor at Usain Bolt pace. The smirk on your face was too easy for him not to see.

“You like what you fucking see don’t you?”

“Just shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

Of course. Of course he was still that arrogant cocky motherfucker that you could not stand. The one who never cleaned up after himself. Or took too long in the shower for the hot water to run out. All of these evil perceptions you had of your roommate were disappearing as his lips were gently placed onto yours. It was a little too slow for your liking, but it was deep. Boy, was it deep. Each movement of his tongue was made with so much precision as he lowered himself onto you. His thighs were clenched, a soft groan could be heard against his lips as his groin pressed into you. Holy fuck, were you really doing this? It was so wrong. Everything in the world was saying to stop, stop this.

“Mm- wait,” you paused your hands on his chest to push him away, “wait.”

A flash of panic waved over his eyes as he quickly jumped off of you, face palming the floor.

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you interjected, giggling at the never been seen care and caution he had for you, “I just don’t think we should do this.”

“Oh,” was all he could say. You kept your gaze lowered; looking at him would have made you feel so guilty. The feeling of regret started to seep into your bones, but you couldn't tell: was it regret of this ever happening, or was it regret from stopping? Your head was too muddled to even attempt to comprehend what had just appended. The only sound that could be heard was your scuffed footsteps, quickly pacing back to your room and shutting the door, hard. The loudest sigh known to earth could be heard on the opposite side of the room as you let your body collapse. The ache between your legs was growing by the second; and as much as you tried to suppress the feeling of Minho’s lips on yours, fingertips dragging along your sides. No. It was much easier this way. Setting boundaries as roommates seemed to be a better idea for the long run.

But the long run was boring. You would both have to pretend that this never happened. Having other people over for sexual purposes would just be awkward now; the more you thought about it, the realisation, and the jealousy hit that you had already crossed said boundary. And maybe that’s why your feet had dragged you to the front of his bedroom door. How the fuck did you get here? You brought your knuckles to the wooden frame, door becoming slightly ajar as you gently knocked. Minho’s snapped his head around, covering himself quickly as you walked in. You cocked your eyebrow, a face of confusion apparent on your face.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he huffed, turning back to his previous position, “what do you want?”

You wanted to just walk out. Mind your business and just leave. But it was hard, quite literally. The imprint of what you assumed to be Minho’s naked lower half painfully pressing into the sheer sheets that was covering him. He paid you no more attention, giving you all the power to initiate whatever it is you wanted to initiate. You slowly crept in beside him, nuzzling your head into the back of his neck as he groaned in annoyance.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing in my bed?”

“Hmm, I think I changed my mind,” you whispered, reaching around to grab him. A blunt hiss escaped Minho’s lips as your action made him turn around. He was so close to you now. So close that you could feel his breath spreading across your left cheek.

“Are you being serious right now?”

The look on his face was unimpressed to say the least.

“Yeah, I mean,” your voice was calm as your hand began to take flight, sliding down to the base of his shaft, “we’ve already crossed the line, let’s go a little further.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. He grabbed you by the wrist that was currently on him, pulling it away and climbing on top of you. Both hands now leaving his side, securely attached onto both wrists as he pinned them down above your head. Nose clumsily tickling yours as he reattached his lips to yours. The feeling of his lips was much softer and calmer than before, almost like he was protecting you. Wanting to keep the moment so delicate, though the way his bare hips involuntarily grinding against your clothed core was far from it. A soft whimper came from your lips, vibrating against his. A soft chuckle was heard from Minho as he pulled away; it made you nervous. To be more specific, the way that arrogant, mischievous smirk that you knew all too well was spread across his face.

“You’re so responsive to me,” he growled, quickly planting another one on your lips before sliding down to your jaw, then your neck, stopping at your chest. Nothing needed to be said as you quickly discarded your shirt, silently thanking your past self for not wearing any underneath. Minho situated himself in front of your now bare chest, waist sitting against your heart as he took one nipple into his mouth, fingers enclosing around the other. A loud whine left your lips, back arching in reaction to him. He looked up, satisfied filling his body as you weren’t able to return his gaze, head already rolled all the way back as he continued his playful assault.

“It’s so cute,” he mumbled between kisses, “so responsive and I’ve barely done anything.”

His lips travelled down the center of your stomach, dipping dangerously closer to where you wanted him most. His continuous rhythm between kisses was immaculate. Any of the incoherent sounds you made, or the crude remarks he made were left unsaid.

“Fuck,” you hissed, painfully throbbing at the way Minho played with the waistband of your panties.

“Not fun to be teased y/n,’ he paused, making sure you were looking at him, “is it.”

A pang of guilt hit your chest for a moment. I mean, it’s not like you did it on purpose, right?

“Minho I’m-”

“Save it,” he scoffs, “whether you did it on purpose, or not, I’m not gonna let you have it so easily.”

His fingers stopped their performance across your hips, continuing a little lower than before. The smirk came to his lips once more, index finger running down your slit. The friction was fierce, but not fierce enough. You wanted, no, you needed more. All he could do was smile at your mercy.

“So fun to tease darling, but you’re gonna have to be more vocal if you want these panties off.”

“Minho please,” you whined, “for fucks sake.”

You bucked your hips forward, desperate for any more contact from the bare minimum he was giving you.

“That doesn’t sound very nice to me.”

“Minho please, please, please,” you whispered, voice becoming super weak, “fuck me, or finger me, anything please, I need to feel you.”

“Now that’s more like it,” he smiled, finally pulling your panties down. You have never lifted your hips faster in your life. The vulnerability of your naked body was somewhat confronting, but your brain was so fogged out from the immense teasing, you cared little.

“Fuck,” he gasped, spreading you effortlessly with two fingers, “you’re so wet for me, aren't you?”

The heat in your cheeks rose as you became embarrassed at his words. Minho didn’t know this, but feeling humiliated was something that could make you cum on the spot. Words intended for insult went through your ears and straight down to the core, the heat becoming like an intense fire igniting in your body as one of his hands moved along your inner thigh, the other gently beginning to circle around where you needed him most.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god Minho please, more.” Your voice was becoming needier by the second, but the longer it went on, the less you seemed to care. His tongue was now a factor coming into play, small kitty licks lapping your clit at a suddenly fast pace. Your legs are already trembling, but Minho does more to appease, hooking his arms under and around your thighs to stop the flustered look on your face. It was confronting how quickly he was getting you to your high.

“Please,” you sighed, eyes hazed as you attempted to look down at the way his tongue was on you. The combination of him sucking on your clit, then pushing it through your entrance almost made you scream. However, the noises that came from your mouth were small, heavy pants, progressively getting louder and louder the tighter the knot in your stomach became.

“Do you wanna cum princess?” His voice was whiny, mocking the tone you had used earlier. You nodded ferociously, knowing any attempt to speak would come out horse or just broken.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, replacing his tongue with two fingers, “but if you want to cum, you’re gonna have to beg for it once more.”

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you groaned, an attempt of grinding your center onto Minho’s fingers failing miserably, “you’re being so unfair.”

“I’m unfair?” he scoffed, beginning his digits back to a bare minimum pace, “you’re the one

who was teasing me all night. I know Changbin is like, your best friend so there was no chance you were bringing him back to fuck him. Then you start to kiss me, hard and fast may I add, AND THEN ! you aren’t sure and you leave me to pretend like nothing happened.”

There was no witty comeback you could say in response because he was right. You were the one who has done the teasing for most of the night.

“You looked so fucked out right now baby,” his tone coming back to a calming medium, “begging for me to make you cum, which I can do right now,” he paused, climbing back to your side, lifting your left leg to continue his easy access to ur clit, “or you can beg even more to have my cock inside of you. The choice is yours.” You swallowed, hard. How could he say something so filthy? Out of all the times you had heard him bring other girls over, he would never talk like this. It was always so nice and calm, full of praise and compassion. Maybe they didn’t act like cock teases and let him just have what he wanted.

“C-cock,” you mumbled, pushing your backside against his now pulsating cock, “please give your cock sir.”

“Ooo sir, I like that one, but you’re gonna have to do more if you want me to fill you up princess.”

Words were becoming extremely hard to not only facilitate in your mind, but put them on your tongue and get out to him. He knew this. He knew your were on the brink of collapsing in cum, but the torture was too entertaining for him nonetheless. Although you're frustrated with him was increasing, you couldn’t lie to yourself that the way he was using you like a sex toy was turning you on. After being up his ass so long with rules around the house and how you wanted things done, it was nice to finally let go. Submit to his rules instead of yours.

“P-please Minho, sir’ you panted, head turning to look at the sadistic face of enjoyment he was having from this, “I’ll do anything, a-anything to have your cock inside of me right now.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Okay then tomorrow morning, you have to make me breakfast, AND wash my dishes.”

“Seriously,” you panted, “that’s what you're thinking about right now?”

“You said anything.” He shrugged, suddenly taking his fingers away from your dripping core. A gasp of disappointment came to your lips at the loss of delicious contact. Minho sat up, ducking under your leg, and positioning himself right back to where he was previously. However, this time, he was on his knees. Although you were touching it before, you really hadn't had a chance to look at how big it was: way more than what you expected. He stroked himself a couple of times, making sure not to get carried away with himself before he pushed it between your folds, letting his pre-cum mix with your juices. He slowly descended into you. Jaws dropping simultaneously, you gasped. The way he was stretching you out did burn a little bit, but once he was fully inside, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Minho waited until the look of slight discomfort faded from your features.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip and he slowly pulled himself back out. He kept a consistent, yet slow pace as leaned in closer to you. He was now hovering over, letting his face become buried into the middle of your breasts. The feeling was so immaculate, you were desperate to cling onto something for support.

“Dig them into me,” he groaned, strangling his vocal cords, “dig your nails into my back and scratch me like your life fucking depends on it.”

Perfect. You did as he pleased, a loud moan of his name wrestling from your lips as you felt the red marks appear on his backside. The pressure from before was already building in your stomach again, and he could tell. The way you were super tight for him was one, but the way you were now clenching around him was another. He knew he wouldn’t last much longer if you kept doing that.

“Fuck,” was all you could manage to say, a deep grin plastered on his face.

“You’re close aren't you,” he cooed, attaching his lips to your neck, “talk to me baby, tell me what you're feeling.

“Mhm, yeah, fuck I’m so close baby. H-Harder.”

The pitch of your tone was becoming whinier by the second. To add to that, the way you became confused, as if Minho was a vampire, because the way he was sucking on your neck was kind of painful. Nevertheless, you relished in it, knowing too well that a very, very dark mark would replace his mouth. The idea of him showing his possession of you, knowing that he finally won you over did not make you happy, nonetheless, you were too fucked out to care.

Your legs were now pushed all the way back, pace fastening by the minute, allowing Minho to push even deeper into you. And that was it. Right there, the spot you had never even known was even there.

“Ah fuck!” Your moan was loud this time, completely unable to control anything. The smirk, in combination with the satisfied growl that left his lips was a face of pure ecstasy as he realised that he had finally hit your G-spot.

“Fuck that feels so fucking good,” Minho grumbled, “are you close? Because I think I’m gonna cum.”

It was like your stomach was an orchestra. Minho’s words were the conductor, completely controlling how close you were to your release.

“Y-yes,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum so hard right now.”

“You wanna cum baby?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanna cum right now?”

“Yes baby,” you pouted, a perplexity of sounds escaping your lips, completely out of your control.

“Cum on my cock princess,” Minho whispered through what sounded to be like pained groans, “be a good girl and cum with me inside of you.”

And there it was, like it was on queue as your body completely flopped, legs shaking and a string of lewd curse words fell from your lips. The way your pussy clenched around him was enough to make him pull out, spilling into the dip of your stomach. A loud breath of what seemed to be exhaustion fell from his lips. Your eyes were previously screwed so shut, it hurt when you opened them again, sensitive to the light.

“Fuck,” you both cursed simultaneously, making one another giggle. Minho fell to your left side, flat on his back as he invited you to scooch over next to him. Face pressed against his chest, fingers playfully dragging up and down his torso. For some reason, he felt so safe and secure at this moment. Almost forgetting how he literally just fucked you into oblivion, your eyelids become heavy. It wasn’t until Minho spoke that you were revived from your alternate state of consciousness once more.

“I didn’t know you had it in you.” His voice sounded genuinely surprised, unsure if you should be offended or not. You looked up at him, quickly pressing a kiss to his cheek. He wasn’t sure how to react, but the dark shade tinting his face right now said enough.

“Please,” you scoffed, “You did me good, but was that the best you can do?”

He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, but down on it after, “Is that a challenge?”

You said nothing, instead sitting up and pushing your legs on either side of his hips. A soft moan escaped his lips as he felt your still dripping heat sitting on the base of him.

“Why don’t you find out and see?”

[yyxgin]

lee felix’s guide to hating you

— ♡ FIC BANNER MADE BY THE AMAZING @chogiwow !!

pairing: lee felix x fem!reader genre: college au, tutor au ; fluff, angst, slice of life, slow burn word count: 21 k warnings: mentions of alcohol, mention of weed, swearing, bad family relationships

a/n: this story is very briefly inspired by jaemin’s drama ‘the way i hate you’ :) also this idea has been in my mind for such a long time, so i’m happy i finally managed to write it. this is also my longest fic so far, i hope it’s worth it. uhh yea enjoy <3

taglist: @feyregels​ @missskzbiased​ @hyunyin​ @koishua​ @crispy-chan​ @rindomo​ @soulssung​ @thatrandomoneinthecorner​ @90shermione​ @chogiwow​ @creatichee​ @freckledberries​ @hyunnies-stars​ 

There’s a list of things Lee Felix knew before applying for college-- and that is: 1) he really, desperately needs a degree for his grandparents to value him as an equal adult, 2) college in young adult movies seems like fun and partying and alcohol really does sound like his wettest dream, 3) he doesn’t need to work for another 4 years, which is fun and 5) he is really, horribly bad at studying.

Here’s a list of things Lee Felix, however, did not know before applying for college, and even though it’s fairly shorter, it hits you in the guts deeper, and that is: 1) studying for college means never ending chapters of insomnia and 2) he is always going to feel like the second choice for everyone. 

You see, girls don’t like Felix that much. Well, that’s a lie-- girls do go after him, tell him he’s cute and his freckles are adorable, but that’s only after they find out there’s no use in chasing after his best friend Han Jisung when he gets himself a new significant other. Boys don’t go after Felix either. Why, you may ask? Read the paragraph over again-- just change the word girls to the word boys. It’s as simple as that. He’s always the second choice, the back-up plan. It feels silly to drag his grandma into this, really, but the truth is, he’s a second choice in every aspect of his life, and that, too, includes his big (and still growing) family that treats him as something less than a human just because of the fact that his grades aren’t as good as his cousin’s are and he doesn’t have a degree in biological science, although he’s too young for that and his college years only started. It’s hard, living in his shoes.

What is Felix, however, really good at? 

Cheating.

Yeah, well, you see-- it’s not funny to be the outcast of the smart Lee family and it’s also not enetaining in the slightest to be the only single one at family gatherings (read as: weddings, because every single one of his relatives decided to fuck up their life with marriage in the past three years for some unknown reason). So Felix does what he’s the best at, and that is going by his favorite life motto: fake it ‘til you make it. 

He cheats on every single one of his exams and believe me when I tell you he’s the top of the class just because he’s the best cheater in town. Good cheating techniques equal good grades and suddenly, Felix’s life seems much brighter when he spends his sleepless nights with creating cheat sheets instead of studying and copying essays written in korean, translating them to english and submitting them as his own because no one will ever notice-- his degree is within the reach of his hand and he can already feel all the grandmas of the family clapping in joy, maybe even wiping away a stray tear on his graduation ceremony in a few years with bouquets of flowers in their hands and expensive watches in their gift bags, ready to welcome him back into the family.. 

What he doesn’t expect, though, is the cute little saying of ‘every lie has short legs’ he swears he heard sometimes in his linguistic class before, coming to life right in front of his eyes as the professor of his Biology class makes him the assigned tutor of the sweet Y/N Y/L/N, because, well, he clearly doesn’t know anything-- what’s he supposed to tutor now? 

The best cheating techniques?

The freckled boy sitting in front of you looks at you with furrowed brows and you wonder what’s the matter with him. Is there something on your face? Are you not dressed appropriately for the occasion? I mean, it’s only a tutoring session, so you didn’t put that much effort into it, but judging from the casual outfit enveloping his body, he didn’t really try to look fancy either. So what was it with him that made him stare you down as if you had horns on your head?

“Shall we start?” he asks once he’s done staring, voice sounding determined. You wonder if he sees the hints of nervousness on your face and if he notices the way you shrink in your seat in the mention of biology, but you guess he doesn’t know you that well to know that you fear the subject as much as you fear dying. 

“Yeah, sure,” you nod, scooting closer to the edge of your seat so you’re not so far away from the table. Felix-- your new biology tutor-- is sitting opposite of you and it’s quite difficult to read the text book once it’s upside down, but you don’t dare to mention it to him for a reason that’s unknown to you as well. It’s like you don’t want to overstep any invisible boundary on your first tutoring session, and telling the person that is teaching you to turn around the text book so you can actually see and learn something seems to be one of the taboos in your eyes. 

You take a quick glance at the waiter that just stopped next to your booth and smile, opening up your mouth to order yourself a meal. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks.

“No-” Felix offers her with a shy smile, but you cut him off with a voice a little higher in the octaves, not wanting your tutor coming in between you and reaching your biggest goal you’ve set for yourself.

“Actually, yes. Could I please get the chicken wings? With fries?” you ask, trying to look as innocent as you can, smiling at her in politeness. You ignore the confused look Lee Felix is offering you from the other side of the table. You mentally send him a signal to tell him to mind his own business, watching the waitress leave with a nod and a polite smile. 

“Okay, now we can start,” you nod at him and focus all your attention to the boy with sandy hair in front of you.

“O...kay?” he answers, obviously trying to bat away his rising confusion, because ordering yourself chicken wings on your tutoring session is prohibited now, apparently. “So,” he starts, sighing and scratching the back of his neck, “what do you not understand from this section?” 

You nervously chew on the bottom of your lip. Well, that’s a sweet question, you think. It would have been much sweeter and much easier to answer, though, if you understood at least a bit from the things you’re supposed to know. You went to university with the urge to prove something to yourself, but the only thing you’re proving to yourself right now is the fact that you are actually kind of useless, when it comes to biology.

“Just like the… whole thing, actually,” you nod, trying not to look as defeated as you feel and also trying not to burst out in a manic laugh as you always do when you feel slightly nervous about anything.

“Cool, cool, yeah,” he nods, taking a deep breath in, turning the textbook around and sighing, “I don’t think I can help you with that.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” you ask, confused. 

Lee Felix is the top of the grade. He is the best at biology, he is the best at chemistry, he is the best at his farmacy class. You’re sure he’ll be a fine biochemist in a few years, when his college times are over. Lee Felix is the smartest boy in your biology class and you are, coincidentally, quite the opposite on this spectrum. Which is exactly why your teacher managed to make Felix tutor you in his free time. You weren’t surprised at the fact that the blonde boy agreed to this-- he was quite the sweetheart, really. All the girls in your class fawned upon the way his freckles shined in the sunlight and the way he opened the doors for older professors. He was quite the boy you would want to introduce to your parents. Not quite the one every girl goes after, but the one that you would want to settle down with after your college years are over.

So why is he, the sweet, but also smart boy that agreed to tutor you, now telling you he can’t help you?

“It’s just.. I’m not really good at this section, I mean-”

“Felix, you’re the top of the class. Of course you’re good at this section.” you mumble, gazing deep into his eyes, trying to search for an answer.

“I-” he says and takes a sharp breath in, stopping himself in continuing his train of thought and just opting to shrug, not giving you a proper response either.

You feel like someone just punched you in the gut, and that’s when you realise-- here it is again. Another person that doesn’t believe in you-- another person that needs proving that you really can do it, you just need a little push. You can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t think you’re smart or bright enough to pass the exams, you’re not good enough to get good grades. It’s nothing new to you, but it still haunts you just the same.

“Is it because you know I can’t do it?” you bluntly ask, sighing. 

“No! No, no, I never said that-” he says, almost panicking with the way his hands fly into the air hurriedly, waving them around as if it was meant to calm you down. 

“You’re acting like it, though. I promise I’m not stupid- well, maybe I am, but-”

“You’re not stupid! It’s me! I’m the stupid one here.” he says, effectively silencing you with his words as you stare at him, dumbfounded. He’s joking, right?

“How can you be stupid when you get only the best grades? Felix, if you just don’t want to waste your time here, tell me, but don’t try to hide behind poor excuses.” you roll your eyes, feeling frustrated at the boy’s antics. Does he really think you’re that stupid that you can’t see right through his lies?

“I cheat.”

You blink a few times as if to reset your brain, gazing at him with pure confusion written in your orbs. He cheats? No. That’s a lie. A person as good at biology as Felix can’t cheat. All his exams are on 100% and he never makes any mistakes. He’s the epitome of the smart kid. The little Einstein. The prodigy. There’s no way it’s all cheating.

“No.” you shake your head in disapproval. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying! Look, I genuinely, really want to help you. I really do. The thing is, though, I don’t know how to study. I make cheat sheets and I use them at every exam and every test, that’s why everyone thinks I’m super smart, but that is really not the case,” he shakes his head, staring into your eyes with his wide open in honesty, wanting you-- no,-- needing you to understand. “I would tutor you if I could, really, but I just don’t know how to,” he sighs finally, acting like he’s just given birth or ran a marathon, exhaustion written all over his face.

“So why did you offer to tutor me, then?” you ask.

He takes a moment for himself to collect his thoughts, before he speaks up again. “Well, I didn’t really want to get caught. You see, I would never turn my back to anyone. Really. So I thought I could at least try to learn something? So I could help you? But I failed, as always, so I’m just coming clean in front of you and you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

The moment the last sentence leaves his mouth, you notice the apparent fear in his eyes, realising that he just shared an information with you that nobody really knows. It’s a secret he’s been hiding and keeping from everyone just to appear as the smartest one-- fooling everyone, including you. You feel even more stupid now, under his gaze. You feel played. You came to the tutoring, hoping to finally get a grip, when all you get is a person that is stepping all over the sandcastle of your fragile dreams, kicking every little piece of sand away with his lies. You know you shouldn’t feel so invested in this. You shouldn’t feel so hurt. But somehow, you still do. 

“So you just told me you are lying to everyone and cheating on tests and you want me to keep it a secret from everyone?” you ask in disbelief.

“Yes.” he nods, eyes hopeful. He’s been lying for the last year as if his life was depending on it and now he wants you to do the same-- keep quiet in front of everyone.

“And what do I do when the professor asks me why I’m not getting any better? Huh? Ever thought of that?” you leash out, harshly chewing on your bottom lip in nerves. “I want to pass. And I want to do it fair and square.” you get out in between your teeth.

“I didn’t… I didn’t think of that yet, but-”

“Leave.” you say, looking him sternly into his eyes.

“What do you mean, leave?”

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore. And you’re clearly not here to teach me anything, so you can just take your things and leave.” you spit out, crossing your hands over your chest.

“You leave, then,” he mutters, looking rather offended. You’re not sure why he’s the one hurt right now, but you guess that’s just how men and their egos are, there’s nothing more under his hurt eyes and shattered self-esteem.

“I ordered food, I’m not leaving.” you calmly respond. Once you say this, you’re reminded of the little quest you made for yourself. Never once did you feel silly for taking it so seriously in front of your other friends, but now, in front of Lee Felix with freckled dusted cheeks, you feel almost invisible as you realise why you even ordered the chicken wings and how you’re going to write a yelp review about them later.

Well, someone has to do it, and if not you, then who will, right? It’s the only valid way to find out who makes the best chicken wings in the town and not even your traitor-tutor is going to stop you now, when your list is only getting shorter and shorter. 

He stares at you for a few moments, dumbfounded, before he sighs and accepts his defeat. “Okay, I’ll just have to text my roommate to pick me up,” he admits.

You nod, just in time the server comes back with your food, offering her a welcoming smile. “Fine. But don’t even think of talking to me from now on. I’m not interested in more lies,” you spit at him, scowling as you take a look at the plate of chicken wings sitting in front of you in their full glory. You sense a very bad review, judging from the way the chicken wings look nothing like wings, rather full on small chickens dipped in oil, but dive in nonetheless. 

“Why do you have to be so dramatic?” he asks, voice coated in disbelief.

“Because I was scammed!” you yell out, mouth full of chicken, not caring a second about the way you might look in the boy’s eyes. Yes, you could have at least swallowed before speaking to him, but did you do it? No. No, you didn’t. 

“Oh come on-”

“Don’t even try arguing with me!” you spit at him-- quite glad that this time, it’s not literal-- and huff out in annoyance, when the door opens and a short boy with a bucket hat on steps into the bistro, the red fabric of the seats of the booths contrasting with his shoes in a way that makes you feel captivated, your eyes refusing to tear themselves away from him. 

The boy is taking quick steps to your booth and you almost choke on your chicken wings as you admire his full glory-- tanned skin and car keys in his hand, but his eyes meet the boy sitting opposite of you and that’s when everything clicks. This is not the boy of your dreams, this is Han Jisung. Your tutor’s best friend and roommate-- also known as the resident heartbreaker. You shouldn’t feel weak in your knees when you look at him, but that’s exactly what happens and you won’t feel ashamed about it. Well, not now, at least. In a few hours when you’re lying in your bed? Maybe. But I’ll tell you then.

“Yo, dude, I texted you like five minutes ago that I’m waiting for you outside, what are you still doing here?” he asks, furrowing his brows at his roommate and slowly moving his eyes to you, scanning you up and down, leaving your heart to do the stupid cartwheel you haven’t felt since, like, middle school. 

“We were in the middle of an argument, so I didn’t hear my phone ring.” Felix answers, glaring at you with spiteful eyes. You almost prepare to kill him with yours, but you focus on wiping the oil from the corner of your mouth and smiling heavenly, trying to look like a lady in front of your new visitor.

“Was Felix being absolutely unbearable again?” he asks you, surprising you with his subtle way of engaging you into the conversation.

You giggle, rolling your eyes slightly. “Yeah. You know him too well, don’t you?”

“Unfortunately,” he admits, looking defeated, when he moves his eyes to Felix, looking rather sulky on the red seat in front of you as you chat with his roommate, when Jisung’s tone of voice changes into a more worried one, speaking up again, “does she… did you…?”

“Yeah,” Felix just nods. 

Jisung sighs, sitting down next to his roommate, pushing him a little so he has more space in the booth. “What are you supposed to tutor her anyway?” he asks.

“Biology,” you mumble sooner than Felix gets the chance to speak up, motioning to the textbook still sitting at the table in front of you. 

The boy takes a look at the papers, his face changing from a focused one to a one more lighter, his eyes scanning the papers with ease. You notice his mouth moving a little as he reads the words under his breath, catching yourself from staring when you feel Felix’s eyes burning into the crown of your head, snapping you back to reality. 

“You know… maybe I could help you with that.” he says, looking like a business offering you a deal that you’re sure involves something illegal. He looks like a focused squirrel with his cheeks puffed out a little in what you sense is pride, something in his eyes glowing as you nervously chew on your bottom lip.

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m actually quite good at biology, to be honest. Well, not as much as Felix over here-” he jokes, scowling when the blonde boy punches his arm, “but I think I could tutor you a thing or two.”

“What’s the catch?” you ask, nervously watching him. Something in his composure is telling you he’ll want something in return, but you don’t know what yet. You’re quite sure you’ll sell your soul for the adorable boy in front of you if he asked you to, but it never hurts to ask beforehand, right? 

“What do you mean, what’s the catch?”

“Like… what do you want in return?” you muse out, taking a bite of a fry, noticing how soggy it feels under your teeth.

“Woah, you spend 15 minutes with Felix and you already think there’s something illegal behind everything? I’ll let you know, I’m better than that.” he scoffs. “I’m just doing it because I see how miserable you are. And I also don’t want you to tell on my buddie over here.” he adds, smiling warmly.

You take notice of the way Felix’s eyes grow twice their size and how Jisung’s knee lightly bumps into his under the table. It’s subtle, but you think that maybe this is when you fully fell for the short boy in front of you-- when he offered to save his best friend’s ass by helping out a lost girl with biology. And who are you to say no now? I mean, you need the tutoring nonetheless. Who cares if the boy tutoring you is someone else? Maybe it’s even more appealing to you this way, but you’ll never admit that out loud.

“Okay then, sure.” you nod, grinning from ear to ear, feeling satisfied.

“Great. Now, give me half the fries and we can arrange our next tutoring session,” he smiles, “oh, and I’m Han Jisung, by the way.”

He winks. 

You should be disturbed, but strangely, you’re not. You grin back at him, offering him the soggy fries you’re sure you’re going to give a really bad review in the evening, watching his composure change into a more laid-back one, engaging you in a conversation and slunging an arm around his best friend’s shoulders.

Lee Felix remains silent. He feels it once again-- he feels the loneliness of being left out. 

And he’s sure it won’t be the last time.

Lee Felix knows damn well how it feels to be the third wheel. He’s hung out with Jisung and his potential love interests multiple times, he’s even been on double dates with the said male, yet, he always somehow ends up being left out. So why does it still feel the same? Why does he still feel that restless feeling in his stomach, the emptiness in his chest, just like the first time? I guess you never get used to some things and emotions are one of them. No matter how much you argue that you know a feeling so well it doesn’t even surprise you anymore, it still hurts the same. That’s funny about emotions. Sometimes, they can’t even make you numb.

“Hurry up dude, the bistro closes in an hour and half!” Jisung rushes the taller male (not tall, just taller. Don’t misunderstand.) with his car keys in his hand, twirling them around his fingers in a nervous manner. Felix notices his roommate has put some effort into his outfit today, considering the lemon supreme shirt enveloping his body that he saves only for special occasions, yet, Felix doesn’t realise why he had to put it on when they’re literally just going out to eat some soggy fries in the bistro close to their house. He doesn’t ask, though. He doesn’t want the car key stuck in his forehead. He also doesn’t know why they have to rush so much, since they have an hour and half left before they close, but again, he doesn’t dare to say it out loud. 

Felix quickly puts his shoes on and rolls his eyes at his roommate. “I’m ready,” he announces.

Jisung swiftly takes a bottle of cologne from the table in their small hall (it’s so small they don’t even have a mirror in it, because there was no use in taking mirror selfies when all you can see on the picture is your phone case due to the fact that the room is too narrow for you to move further away) and sprays his body wit hit, efficiently confusing his roommate. “You wanna smell great for the waiter there? Because from what I remember, he was a stoner-”

“Oh, shut up. You never know when you’re gonna meet someone cute, am I right?” he asks, grinning from ear to ear like a cat, taking his backpack with him and opening the front door, “gotta look and smell presentable at all times.”

Felix wonders if this is why everyone always goes after his best friend. 

No, he thinks, it cannot be the cloud of cologne hanging around his body. It’s heavy and it makes Felix cough a little, but he tries to mask it, because he’s fairly sure Jisung won’t pay for his fries today if he doesn’t. And Felix is a simple man-- if he can get something for free, he will do anything to achieve it.

They arrive at the place in a few minutes and Felix can already feel his mouth watering at the thought of the salty fries and cheeseburger he’s going to get himself, joyfully skipping inside the bistro and waiting in the queue. Jisung follows him, standing next to him, efficiently covering the smell of the oil and all the good things on this earth-- read as fast food-- making Felix scowl. The boy behind the register, is, in fact, Na Jaemin-- the resident frat boy. Felix’s heard all about him from the girls staying at the dorms and to be honest, he’s quite glad he doesn’t have to live the stories of getting caught with weed at Jaemin's party on his own. That, and the fact that hot water runs in his apartment. Na Jemin might have the weed, but he surely doesn’t have that in his college dorm room. 

“Three milkshakes, two large fries, chicken wings and a cheeseburger, please.” Jisung orders, confusing Felix in one sentence. Since when is his best friend a bottomless pot for food? Is he really going to eat all of that?

“Coming right at you. Anything else?” Jaemin asks, voice considerate and polite, still turned on his customer service mode, even though Felix is sure him and Jisung have had shared a joint or two on one of his parties before.

“No, that’s all. Thanks, man,” Jisung answers, leaving with Felix right behind him. 

“Who’s gonna eat all of that? I hope you know you’re paying, and before you protest, yes, I did purposefully leave my wallet at home-” he rambles, still moving, when his train of thought is cut off by a person in his view.

You are sitting there in your full glory, smiling brightly at the boys approaching you. You’re dressed nicely, he notices-- you look like you put some effort into what you’re wearing. You don’t look that much different, but he can still see the slight changes you made to look neat. You’re glowing, Felix notices. You look excited.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jisung greets, taking a seat opposite of you. He doesn’t even give Felix an answer, he doesn’t even give him an explanation. He’s left there only to take a seat next to his roommate after collecting his thoughts, chewing on his bottom lip.

The conversation never moves his way. He is silenced. Felix wonders why he was even invited, watching the people behind the window laughing with their friends, happy to order some tasty food and have fun on this Thursday evening. He watches his friend and his classmate have fun-- well, as much fun as a tutoring session could be. You’re laughing at every single one of Jisung’s jokes and he swears Jisung’s eyes never leave your face, even when he’s explaining something to you. He wonders why Jisung didn’t tell him where they’re going. He wonders why he even had to come.

Lee Felix knows how third-wheeling feels. Yet, it still makes his little foolish heart hurt just the same every time.

You nervously chew on your bottom lip, cracking your knuckles in a habit your friends always scream at you for, waiting for your tutor-- well, he’s not really your tutor anymore-- to appear in the bistro on the other side of the town. You admire the decorations for a while, liking the way it looks modern here and the purple led lights make the whole place look aesthetic. You can already imagine multiple college kids going here and taking instagram pictures to look cool. It’s nice and you’ll definitely include it in your yelp review-- it won’t make it more stars, though, if the chicken wings don’t taste like heaven.

You tug on the sleeves on your hoodie, as if you were trying to make yourself disappear. I mean, you do feel embarrassing. You feel pathetic that it had to come down to this, but you guess desperate times call for desperate solutions. You’re not here to look put-together anymore. You’re going to show him your full glory and although you regret it a little, you still have a little spark of hope in you that Han Jisung-- the boy you, admittedly, were crashing on real hard right now, won’t find out.

Felix comes into the bistro in his full VSCO boy glory, as always. He is wearing a jean jacket and his freckled cheeks are dusted pink, you’d almost think he’s blushing all the time. He doesn’t quite fit the aesthetics of this futuristic looking bistro, you notice. The retro places you’ve been to so far fit him much more-- his sandy hair contrasted well with the yellow walls and red booths. It was starting to get a little repetitive, though, you must admit.

“Hi,” he greets you as he takes his seat, smiling at you with what you can only describe as a feeling of full uncomfort. You wonder what made him feel this way about you, but you don’t dare to think of it twice as you focus on the main quest of the day-- forcing him to teach you his ways.

“Hello,” you smile. 

Felix notices how natural you look-- it feels like now is the first time he’s seeing you in your full glory. You aren’t wearing your neat clothes for a meeting with Jisung and you’re not too casual like you were at your first ‘tutoring session’ either-- you’re just you. The way he doesn’t even see you in classes. He likes the fact that no one else than him can see you like this-- he likes the fact that Jisung is nowhere around, yet, he wonders why is that, exactly, since the two of you seemed to be hitting it off quite well so far.

Felix hasn’t been with Jisung when he last tutored you. He figured there’s no use, he’s going to get ignored all the time anyway. 

“So… what’s the matter?” he asks, folding his hands into his lap. He dares to take a quick look at you, noticing your worn-out shirt and dark circles under your eyes, worry washing over him. Did something happen? Was Jisung a jerk to you? 

“Well, I sort-of have a little problem,” you mumble out, tearing your gaze away from him. You seem shy for the first time in front of him and he wonders why. He doesn’t understand your sudden change of behaviour. This isn’t the you he’s used to. “Well, turns out, I am really stupid.” you propose, leaving Felix to gaze at you in surprise.

He chuckles. You swiftly look up at him with piercing eyes telling him to stop, and he almost does, but your face looks too adorable when it’s scrunched up like that, so he only giggles once more. “You’re not stupid.”

“I am!” you whine out, finally letting your whole shy facade fall, exposing the true you once again right in front of Felix’s eyes-- direct and fierceful. “Even Jisung’s tutoring isn’t helping and I feel so stupid with him! And I don’t want him to think that I’m stupid, even though I am, and I just… I can’t pass my exams like this, so I need your help.” you say, eyes big, looking almost pleading.

“And I am supposed to help… how? Exactly?” The confusion is written all over his face, and it almost makes you frustrated. You knew he must be smart, if his cheating has been so good he’s getting through college with straight As, but really, is he really that smart if he can’t read in between the lines?

“Help me cheat.” you quickly get out, biting down on your lower lip just as you say it, as if you were regretting it.

The silence that overtakes the two of you feels like it’s slowly going to eat you up alive, angrily biting into your skin. It feels heavy and suffocating, your palms sweating as you watch Felix blink at you with mouth agape, breathing in and out. You pray for him to make up his mind soon, or else you’re going to run out of the bistro without a yelp review, tearing the skin of your cuticles as you see him blink quickly a few times before shaking his head in disbelief, clearing his storage.

“You want me to help you cheat?” he asks for clarification, furrowing his brows at you.

“That’s correct.” you nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You haven’t been this nervous since you took your college entrance exams, and that shows a lot, considering you used to say that has been the most difficult experience of your life so far.

“Because Jisung…. isn’t tutoring you well enough?” he asks again, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

“Hey, don’t put the blame on Jisung! I’m just stupid, that’s all.” you say, looking down into your lap, because his gaze suddenly feels like he’s judging you and you really don’t feel like maintaining eye contact with him when you’re under pressure.

“If you don’t stop saying that, I will kick you.”

“You wouldn’t dare-”

“I would and I will-”

“Okay, but is that a yes, then?” you look up at him with hopeful eyes, resembling a puppy just a little too much, and, well, Felix can’t just reject you now, can he?

“I.. guess…?” he says, watching your face light up in joy as you clap a few times in excitement. 

“Great! Can we start today? We have to start today! I brought my text books and papers and sharpies and-” you are cut off by Felix’s face lighting up at the sight of you, his eyes looking warm and admiring. You quickly shake away the excitement before it goes too far and you actually go to hug him or something, taking a deep breath in and out to calm yourself down.

Just in that moment, the server appears with two servings of chicken wings and two large fries, making Felix look at you in confusion. 

“I ordered you food, since I thought we’ll stick around for a while..” you mumble, seeing him eagerly nod and take one fry into his hand, biting down on it with a face full of pleasure. 

“Perfect. Just let me eat a few of these and we can get right into work, I promise,” he mutters with a mouth full of food, prompting you to take a bite yourself. It doesn’t taste the worst-- the bistro you went to after prom last year was definitely worse than this, but still, you don’t think Felix’s face quite resembles how the food tastes. He looks as if the Queen of England made it. In reality, it’s just a soggy fry. 

“Why do you always order the same thing? Aren’t you tired of eating the same thing over and over again?” he asks suddenly, examining your face with real interest. No one’s ever noticed your eating habits before, just shrugging off what you order every single time. Your little fast food experiment has been a secret so far, even though it wasn’t that hard to cover it up-- nobody really cared until now. 

You feel blush creeping on your cheeks as you shrug, feeling a little embarrassed for like the hundredth time today, when you reply to the boy in front of you. You know his secret, so it only feels valid for him to know yours. “I have this experiment… like, I try chicken wings and fries at every single bistro, restaurant and fast food chain in the town to find out which one’s the best…” you mumble, looking into your plate instead of facing him out of the ugly feeling of patheticness creeping up your back.

“Oh, that’s cool!” he exclaims, pointing his fry your direction, a response you didn’t quite expect, “Where do they have the best ones so far?” he asks, genuine interest painting his features.

“Oh,” you get out, feeling your lips unvoliteraly tug into a smile, “I don’t.. I still have a few bistros and the McDonald’s on the highway out of the city left, but I’d say the best ones so far were at Wendy’s. I didn’t quite like the chicken wings there, though, so…”

“Hmm,” he nods, deep in thought, “we just get food at where’s the closest.” he says, munching on a chicken wing. “I guess we could pay a little more attention to the food from now on, because after eating this, I’m never going to eat the food from the bistro right in front of our flat again.”

“Yeah, that bistro’s really awful. I only gave it around 2.5 stars, I think-” you say, before you realise you just spilled out another secret to him, feeling your cheeks heating up. 

“2.5 stars? What, do you write yelp reviews or something?” he asks, clearly amused by your accidental spill-out.

“And what if I do?” you defend yourself, glaring at him with fake annoyance. No man will ever make fun of you because you write yelp reviews. Not Lee Felix, even though he seems too nice to actually make fun of you because of something, not anyone. 

“That’s cool, though! Those help so much when you travel,” he says, eagerly nodding at you with big eyes and an adorable grin plastered on his face, making you feel understood and happy with just the sudden sign of acceptance. Turns out your little weird obsession isn’t as embarrassing as you thought it was. Or Lee Felix really is the sweetest guy walking on this earth. Either one is fine in your books.

You stay there for a few hours and Felix teaches you the basic cheat codes-- never meet the teacher’s eye, never finish your tests too quickly, always forcefully pick the wrong option before scribbling it out and putting in a correct one to not seem too suspicious. He even takes a piece of paper from you and scribbles down the basic cheat-sheet making structure. 

He feels good with you. He feels useful. He knows he shouldn’t be teaching you this, but really, is it really doing any harm? We all have to go through college somehow.

Yet, all evenings always end the same for Felix, with a bad feeling in his gut and a fake smile on his face hiding the true meaning behind his actions. He’ll never be the first choice and you remind him even today, after you leave the ‘tutoring session’ with a quick hug to the male, lowering your voice so only he can hear when you pay him your goodbyes.

“Don’t tell Jisung, okay?”

Of course. It’s all because you don’t want to look embarrassing in front of his best friend.

It goes all how you planned it to-- you’re sitting at your next tutoring session with two males in front of you. One of them is your supposed tutor and one of them is a boy that’s helping you pass your exams for real. You’re into one of them, even though you shouldn’t. You wonder how you even ended up in this mess. You swear you were a good student in high school, always submitting your assignments on time and making sure your tests were on 100%. It was kind of fueling your ego, in a way. You had no other plans in your life to hold on to, no dreams to dream, so you reasoned to do the only thing that you were good at-- getting good grades. You had to prove to yourself that there was a reason, a meaning behind your life. You had to prove to yourself that your existence was valid.

You watch Jisung with interest. You pray to god that he doesn’t catch you in your act, because that would surely be embarrassing. You don’t want him to find out that you’re just fine with cheating, because that meant your tutoring sessions with the male would end and there was no other reason for you to see him. You knew Han Jisung wasn’t interested in you. You were sure you’d see it on him if he was. And even then, you weren’t interested in only a short relationship without any good point. You liked Jisung, but you didn’t like his reputation. One week wasn’t long enough for you to waste your time on him and get your heart broken. You weren’t sure if he was a player, or if he just wanted to desperately find the one by trying all the possibilities, but you weren’t going to find out. 

Felix watches you with interest in his eyes-- but you don’t notice. He prays that Jisung doesn’t find out about your secret little ‘tutoring sessions’, because that would mean he wouldn’t have a reason to hang out with you anymore. And Felix really doesn’t want that to happen. For some reason, he doesn’t want you to ever frown. And he’s sure that’s exactly what would happen if Jisung cancelled.

It doesn’t click to him what’s happening inside of his little, foolish heart when he sees you smile at Jisung and his stomach fills with worry. 

It doesn’t click to him what’s happening with him when every time Jisung subtly takes your hand in his makes his insides twitch in frustration. He thinks it’s just because of the fact that he’s third-wheeling again, like all his life, and maybe that is partly true, but it’s not the whole reason behind the cloud around his head.

It clicks only when him and his roommate are back home, sitting at the dinner table with the left-overs from the new bistro you three went to, munching on the chicken wings and another pack of soggy french fries and the cola they had in their fridge.

“So… what do you think about Y/N?” Jisung asks suddenly, making Felix furrow his brows in confusion.

“What should I think? She’s smart, I guess…” he mumbles, mouth full of food, not quite grasping the full meaning of his roommate’s question. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jisung quickly nods in approval, “she’s getting really good. I mean, you can still see she’s having some troubles when I’m tutoring her, but at least she always gets good grades on tests now,” he says, biting down on another piece of chicken wing. Felix feels a wave of pride wash over him after hearing the words-- of course you’re doing well on exams. It’s all Felix’s doing. You’re a quick learner, when it comes to cheating. 

“Yeah, she’s good,” he says. 

“Well,” Jisung suddenly starts, meaning to sound nonchalantly, but only sounding like he’s determining his biggest life secret in front of his friend instead, “I like her.”

Felix almost chokes on the piece of chicken in his mouth, trying to play it off with a small chuckle. “Oh? You do?”

“Yeah. Should I.. Should I ask her on a date or something?” he asks and Felix swears he can see his friend’s cheeks reddening a little, even though the last time he’s seen Jisung embarrassed was when he accidentally called their Math’s teacher mum in eleventh grade. 

“You don’t date, though,” Felix opposes.

“That’s not true-”

“Two weeks long relationships aren’t relationships, Jisung.” 

“Not my fault they’re never the one! It gets boring after a while, Felix, I can’t just-”

“Why are you even asking me this?” Felix suddenly cuts him off, glaring at him. He doesn’t know why he’s reacting in such a way. It’s not like it’s the first time Jisung is going to date someone for two weeks just to break their heart, it’s not the first time they’re going to run after Felix a week after just so they can still be around the one that broke their heart. This time, though, he does not want to see another heart get broken.

“Jesus, chill, man… I was just asking, since you two seem closer. Did she mention anything about me? Is she dating anyone?” Jisung asks, eyes lighting up.

Felix could be an asshole. He could tell Jisung that you’re already dating someone, he could tell him to back off and that you’re not interested. However, he does not do that. Instead, he does the quite opposite. He pushes his best friend into asking you out, he tells him he should try it, because that’s just the kind of person he is. Besides, he knows you’re into him. Maybe the smile on your face could make him forget about the fact that you’re going to get your heart broken. 

“Sure, go for it.” he shrugs, “I don’t really care anyway.”

“Fine, then-”

“I’m gonna shower.” Felix says, quickly standing up from his chair and moving to the bathroom, quickly escaping the conversation.

Only then he realises what he feeling in his gut means, only then he notices the way his sigh feels like the weight of the world is sitting on his shoulders and he can’t breathe any time you’re around Han Jisung. 

He realises he likes you. 

And clearly, you don’t like him back.

Emotions are something you never quite get used to. Even the emotion of feeling rejection, the emotion of always being behind his best friend’s shadow. Lee Felix is always just the friend. Never the love interest. This time, though, it feels even more heavy, because in a way, you seem way more special in his eyes than the people that went after him just to get with his best friend.

This time, he does not want to see another heart get broken. Because it’s your heart we’re talking about.

And to prevent his heart shattering to even more pieces, he has to do something.

He has to stop liking you.

As soon as possible.

“Y/N?” 

“Mhhm?” you ask, raising your eyes up from the cheat sheet you’re creating with Felix’s help, the grease of the fries you’re eating glistening on your chin. You’re with him in a yet another crappy bistro, trying yet another soggy fries, and even though there’s nothing special on you to a stranger’s eye, Felix’s heart can’t help but run twice the speed of light. 

“How do you stop liking someone?” he mumbles, furrowing his brows a little, deep in thought. 

“Oh, do you like someone?” you ask, and Felix momentarily lights up at the thought of you caring if he’s interested in someone, but when his eyes meet yours and he notices them glistening and lightening up in curiosity, he realises it’s just because you’re happy for him. As a good friend should be. 

“No, no,” he quickly shakes his head in disapproval, snickering to himself, “I’m just asking. Because, think, what if, hypothetically, there’s someone who is into someone else. Easy, right? But what if their best friend likes the same person? And you know you shouldn’t like them because they’re into their friend as well? What is there to do at that point?” 

You scan his face for a few seconds, thinking to yourself. “Hmm,” you start, “I guess you have to start hating them. So the feelings disappear.” you nod, satisfied with your answer.

“How’s that possible?” he asks, scoffing.

“Well, I don’t know, since it’s all hypothetical anyway,” you giggle, focusing back on your cheat sheet. Your notes are getting smaller and smaller and Felix notices the improvement in your small lettering, making your cheat sheet less noticeable. You’re learning quickly.

“Oh come on,” he whines, kicking your leg under the table, “talk to me. How can a person start hating someone? Give me a tutorial.” 

“Well, since you really need to know,” you roll your eyes, putting away the pen from your hand and resting your back against the seat of the booth, “there are a few steps you can take.”

“For example?”

“Well, you have to stop hanging out with them, first thing’s first.” you start. “Because if you don’t hang out with them, you will eventually hate the fact that they’re not near, which will, logically, make you hate them instead.”

“Is that really logical, though?” Felix asks, furrowing his brows at you. In his books, this made no sense at all, but you seemed pretty satisfied with your answer.

“Of course it is! Then, you have to find something about them that you can hate. Anything. Find even the smallest thing, and blow it up in your mind until you hate it. Easy, right?” 

“...I don’t think that’s helping at all,” he says, tone of voice unsure. 

“Of course it is! You’re just refusing that it can be true, because you think I’m stupid.” you stick out his tongue at him, focusing on your work instead.

He kicks you under the table, making you scowl. “Ow! What was that for?”

“I told you that if you’ll make that comment again, I will kick you. So I just did right that.” he says. “Besides, your ideas are stupid. Not you. There’s a difference in that.” he smartly points out, making you roll your eyes at him.

“So, who is it that you like?”

“No one. I told you, it’s hypothetical.” he glares at you.

“Right,” you nod, sighing, “well, I’ll just stick to that, since that means Jisung doesn’t like anyone and I still have a chance.” you smile at him, obviously missing out on the way your words just punched him into the gut. Felix laughs it out, kicking you in the shin instead.

“Right. Of course you do,” he nods. He wishes he didn’t mean that.

You two remain in silence for a moment, while you get back to your work and Felix pretends he’s playing a game on his phone. You don’t notice the way his eyes scan you over, admiring you, once in a while. No one ever does. He guesses this is the perk of always being just the friend. The one people are friends with just because they want something from him. The one that gets taken advantage of. He chooses not to think about it more. Maybe if he did, he could hate you over it, if he wasn’t so used to that feeling anyway. 

“We should hang out on the weekend,” you say, taking him by surprise.

“Oh?” he mumbles out, “with Jisung?”

“No?” you furrow your brows, “look, I know I look like I’m obsessed with him, but I actually just want to hang out with you alone as friends once in a while, you know.”

“We’re hanging out now, though.”

“It’s midnight, Felix,” you point out, “and we’re working. I want to hang out with my friend, like a normal person, you know.” you shrug.

“Yeah…” he says, when your words resonate in his mind like a broken curse. ‘Don’t hang out with them.’ Don’t hang out with her. You have to hate her. He has to start hating you-- there’s no other way. And so, he turns to taking your words into consideration. He can’t meet with you if he’s not ‘tutoring’ you. There’s no way. “We’ll see. I’ll tell you if I’m free.” he smiles warmly instead, because truth be told, he’ll never tell you no to your eyes. He’s always been a bit of a coward. And he also doesn’t want you to frown. Ever.

“Great!” you smile. 

And when Felix comes home that night, at 2am in the morning when his roommate is already asleep-- not knowing of your secret meetings, he lays down in his bed and repeats your advice like a broken mantra. He can’t like you. He has to hate you.

Lee Felix’s guide to hating you: 1. Don’t hang out with her. Only meet her when it’s necessary. If you don’t meet her, you’ll start hating her absence, resulting in hating her altogether. 2. Find a small thing about her to blow up so much you start to hate it. 

That’s not difficult. He hates that you like Han Jisung. It’s a small mistake, a small flaw, but he’s ready to blow it up so much he hates you for it. He hates that he’s not the first choice. He hates that you don’t like him.

Maybe he would hate you more if you were dating his best friend for real.

Lee Felix’s guide to hating you: 1. Don’t hang out with her. 2. Find a thing to hate about her. SUCCESS! 3. Set her up with Han Jisung.

Now, this plan is bulletproof, isn’t it?

Felix unexpectedly breaks the first step of his guide only a few days later-- on a chilly friday afternoon, when his body is hurriedly skipping to the edge of the town centre only to meet with you. Just for the record, though, Felix didn’t intend to break the promise he gave to himself. He really wasn’t going to hang out with you if he didn’t specifically need to, but, well… you called Jisung to hang out. Felix’s heart almost skipped a few beats when he was added to a three-person big group chat with you and his roommate and at that point, he wasn’t going to reject an invitation to the fare in town, because he was fairly sure Jisung didn’t like rollercoasters and he wanted to see you laugh your ass off at him in front of everyone. Is it a little spiteful? Possibly. Does he care? Not that much.

Besides, it’s only one time. It will never happen again!!

He finds you with your black leather jacket on, stepping from one leg to the other, looking around like a lost puppy. Felix mentally curses at himself for not coming sooner so you wouldn’t feel so alone and awkward in the mass of people, when he realises he’s already 15 minutes late because of his afternoon class and his roommate is nowhere to be found.

“Thank god! I thought you were going to bail on me as well,” you call out when Felix is close enough, smiling at him.

“Where’s Jisung?”

“He texted me like 5 minutes ago that he can’t make it today. Something about his mum being in town? I’m not sure,” you furrow your brows, “at least you’re here now, though.”

Felix is met with the realisation that he’s left alone with you again, mentally cursing at himself. This surely does not look like a plan to hating you. It looks like a bullet-proof plan on how to fall even deeper for you, with how your stray hairs are flying around your head and you adorably scrunch up your nose and sniffle from the cold. 

“Should we go?” he forces out of himself, looking at you hopefully.

“Yeah!” you nod, striding a few steps in front of him like a happy school girl excited to go to school for the first time. Felix can’t surpass the gentle smile forming on his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. You look so cheerful and so joyful, making his heart swell with how easily you manage to make him feel so young again. 

He follows you gladly, managing to match his speed with yours, almost forgetting for a moment that he’s not on a date with you, almost forgetting about the fact that you like his best friend and the smile you’re giving him is nothing against the wide grin you offer to his roommate.

“Let’s go on that one!” you cheer, taking Felix by the hand and tugging him your way, not once giving him the opportunity of letting go as you drag him all around the fare. You remind him of his younger sister with how excited you get about the smallest things and he realises he wants to protect your heart from the world just as much as he wants to protect his little sister’s. It’s not the same feeling, though. The affection he feels for you is different. 

Felix doesn’t find it in him to tell you no whenever you tug him on another ride, even when his legs are tired and his jaw hurts from smiling. He finds himself wanting to capture your image into his brain forever, imprint the happy memory in there so he can find it and look at it whenever his heart feels lonely. For the first time in ages, he forgets about everything. He forgets that he’s just the friend, the other choice. He completely forgets that Han Jisung was supposed to be there, at his place, sitting next to you on the ferris wheel as you watch the night city under you with cold cheeks and frozen bodies.

“You must be sad that Jisung isn’t here with you right now. That would surely feel much more romantic than sitting here with me,” Felix says bitterly once the reality hits him for a second, once his heart is unsheltered for a short moment and your eyes meet.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” you roll your eyes, “Jisung can’t be romantic. Besides, if I really wanted a date with him so badly, I wouldn’t have asked you to come with us, would I?” you smile at him, swinging your legs forward and backward, focusing your eyes somewhere into the distance again.

“Well, if you really want to go on a date with him, you can just ask him, you know?” he mumbles, playing with the dead skin on his thumb.

“So he can stand me up and go on a date with his mum again? I don’t know, Felix, is that really worth it?” you giggle, not noticing the way you’re messing with the boy’s head, not noticing the way a small spark of hope lights up somewhere in the deep pits of his stomach when you mention not wanting to ask his best friend out. 

“I don’t know, is it?”

“I’ll have to think about it.” you muse out, and the spark is gone. Of course it’s not that simple. 

Felix just nods and grins at you. The chilly air helps him hide his red cheeks when he thinks of how embarrassing his thoughts must have been in the past quick seconds. He focuses on your face, on the way your eyes crinkle up a little when you stare somewhere far into the distance and your hair flies a little with the breeze. The ferris wheel just reached the top, so he has plenty of time to keep admiring you from so close, but somehow, the moment still feels so short and he wishes he could stop the time. He wishes he could stop the time so he didn’t have to face the reality when he comes down from the ferris wheel. He wishes he didn’t have to see you fall in love with his friend, he wishes he didn’t have to act like he doesn’t care at all. 

“Thanks for helping me, by the way. I wouldn’t have passed my exams if it wasn’t for you and that… that would be really hard on me.” you get out, locking your eyes with his sincerely. He sees your eyes shining even so high above the ground, convincing him the sparkles really must be the stars, when he takes a deep breath in and responds.

“It’s no problem, I get it… I mean, it’s what you gotta do. What we gotta do, when we want to pass. And graduate,” he chuckles. 

Does he really want the degree, though? Or does he just need it to feel like he has some worth? Does he want to graduate or does he just want his parents to value him as an adult, does he really want to continue working so hard on passing or would he just be so much happier if he just dropped out. And saved himself so much stress. He should have known he was never smart enough for college.

“Yeah. I despise the smart kids in our class. I wish I were them,” you scoff, “I despise Jisung, in a way, too,” you add after a dramatic pause.

“Jisung?” Felix furrows his brows.

“Yeah,” you nod, like it’s the clearest thing in the world, “I mean, he’s smart enough to pass. He’s… he’s got his life figured out, in a way. He’s just fine. Getting all the girls and the guys, getting good grades, going on dinner dates with his mum on Fridays,” you giggle, “I mean, I want that. That sounds nice.”

Felix huffs, staring into the distance, “I guess you’re right.” He knows damn well how jealousy feels. 

“I came to college to prove to myself that my life has some worth, but I guess the only thing I prove to myself is that I can’t even pass my exams without help.” you sigh, sounding defeated.

“Hey,” he nudges you a little with his foot, “don’t say that. Life isn’t about grades, degrees and that shit. Of course you have worth and value.” 

He sees you smile in defeat, leaning your head on his shoulder. The feeling of acceptance, pure understanding washes over the two of you, when you gently speak up again. “Try to explain that to my brain.” 

He lightly giggles. “I’m trying, as you can see.”

You look up at him from his shoulder, scrunching up your nose and leaning closer to him, whispering. “It’s not working.” you laugh.

“I know it’s not easy,” he shakes his head, “I’ve been trying to tell that to my family for the past 21 years.” he slips out. Something about you makes him spill out even things he’s never told anyone before, but he finds himself not caring as you approach his eyes with pure serenity mixed with melancholy.

“Is it all because of your parents?” you ask, “the cheating, I mean.”

Felix feels his eyes giving him out, so he chooses not to look at you anymore. “I mean, I would have dropped out long ago if I didn’t have to feel so worthless around my family then. Every single one of my cousins is smart, has a degree and earns a killing. I’m just me-- living from the money I earned over summer, trying not to lose my mind with biology.”

He hears you humming next to him, your head moving as you nod in understatement. The ferris wheel is slowly reaching the bottom again and Felix finds the fact quite relieving. He doesn’t mind having deep talks with you, he just fears he might spill out something both of you don’t want to hear.

“I’m glad you came with me today, Lix.” you smile at him once the two of you reach the bottom, “wanna hear a secret?”

“Spill it out,” he dares you, grinning.

“I only invited Jisung because I thought you didn’t want to hang out with me alone.” you confess, quickly turning around in your spot as you jog a few steps in front of him, carelessly, as if you just didn’t make Felix’s heart stop and insides twitch in excitement. He prays and hopes it’s not just you giving him false hope, he wishes it’s not his mind playing tricks on him. 

“I-” 

“And now that I know you don’t mind being around me, do you wanna go to the dog cafe with me next Wednesday? You know, the one I talked about.” you turn around, flashing him a smile worth a billion dollars, taking him by surprise as his breathing hitches and he doesn’t find it in him to reject you ever again.

“Sure.”

Second step of Lee Felix’s guide to helping you: find a small thing about you he doesn’t like to blow up so much he starts hating you altogether. 

He was so sure that he found the small thing just a few days ago. He thought that the fact that you like his best friend could be enough for him to start hating you. He could sit on that thought for long enough to pick it up to the smallest pieces and over-analyse it to the point he could start hating you. 

And he tries to do just that-- he lies awake at night thinking of how every single person he’s ever been interested in slipped right between his fingers just because of Jisung’s existence. He wonders why he’s never good enough to anyone, why he always has to be the second choice even for tutoring (even though it’s not even tutoring, but we won’t talk about that anymore). He thinks of how you’re so foolish to think your relationship with Jisung is going to last, because Jisung’s feelings never stay the same for long. He over-analyses the smallest things he notices on you when you’re in Jisung’s presence until the point he’s almost sure he can do it, he can hate you for it just a little, in a way, but then, the thought flies right out of the open window as his roommate crashes into his door in the middle of the night.

He startles awake, sitting up at his bed, watching the short male going in with much difficulty, sitting on his bed without a word.

“Jisung?”

“Lixie, I fucked it all up, didn’t I?” Jisung whines, laying down on the bed next to his friend. Felix doesn’t think it’s only due to the late hours of the night that his friend’s words aren’t making any sense, but he doesn’t dare to put his finger on it until he makes sure for himself.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N.”

Your name coming out of his lips hits Felix like a baseball bat, hurting in all the right places, as the young male finds it in him to continue the conversation.

“What about her?”

“She asked us to hang out together. And I didn’t go. I know it wasn’t my fault, because my mum was in the town, but still, I feel so bad, because now it must look like I’m not interested in her and that I don’t care and I really don’t want that, you know?” he stummers, making Felix realise his friend talks a lot when he’s under the influence of alcohol just the same second Jisung’s breath catches in Felix’s nose, only proving his point. 

“You didn’t fuck it up, don’t worry.” he muses. And it’s true. Jisung could never truly fuck it up with anyone. Even his exes always crumble up around his feet, wanting attention even after getting their heart broken. Will it be the same with you?

“She must think I don’t like her. And that’s horrible-that’s- that’s- I like her. Very much,” he whines again, getting closer to Felix and wrapping his arms around the blonde’s torso in a wave of affection that only washes over him when he’s drunk.

“Sung-” he stutters, desperately trying to push him away, but even though Jisung doesn’t look like it, he is a strong individual when it comes to involuntary cuddling. Felix can never escape his arms.

“I think she’s special, you know? She’s like- I can’t explain it. It’s like with her, I actually want to try. I want to ask her on dates and love her and give her my heart, because you know, I never dared to give my heart to anyone. And no one’s ever made me feel truly special before…” he mutters, forcing his nose to Felix’s neck, “I’m rambling too much, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Felix sighs, nodding. He doesn’t battle his arms anymore. Jisung is his friend, at the end of the day. He can hold him when he needs it.

“Sorry.” he says shortly, sighing as well. The room falls into silence and Felix’s head spins again, his thoughts spiral like a tornado and the eye of the storm is you-- standing there with that stupid smile on your face and he once again realises that he needs to hate you in order to shelter his own heart, because you’re like a hurricane when it comes a to a person’s emotions.

The fact is, though, he could never hate you for liking his best friend. 

Han Jisung is too likable for his own good. His heart is too big for this world, and truth be told, he’s been sharing it with everyone for such a long time now, he deserves to find someone he’s willing to give his all to. 

He could never hate you for liking Jisung-- the boy who smiles at everyone in the halls, the boy that offered him to live in the flat his parent’s bought for him in freshman year, the boy that helps him hide his cheating secret every day. He could never hate you for liking Jisung, because he himself knows too well how much of a treasure his dear friend is. 

He gets it. He gets why people always choose Jisung over him. He could never blame you.

“Sung?”

“Hmm?”

“Ask Y/N out to the dog cafe on Wednesday. She'll love it.”

Felix could never hate you.

Step three of Felix’s bullet-proof guide to hating you is quite simple and actually the only one he completes with success. Setting you up with Jisung on a date is easier than he ever imagined, considering the fact that his roommate decided to finally take things into his own hands and call you on a date after the drunken weeping episode in Felix’s bed. 

Jisung invites you on a date to the dog café in town. The two of you go on Wednesday and although Felix feels like he just gave his roommate a piece of him, an invitation that was never meant for him in the first place, he feels at ease, because at least one part of his plan is working. He could never hate you, but at least now, it will be easier for him to ignore his growing feelings for you when you spend all your time with Jisung on dates and ice cream runs. He only has to ignore his feelings in school and at your ‘tutoring’ sessions. He wonders how long these will be a secret in front of your new boyfriend. Jisung’s not your boyfriend yet, but Felix can only imagine how short the time he isn’t is going to last. 

Felix does the stupid mistake of opening the instagram app in the evening, when he’s curled up in his bed with an embarrassingly big bowl of popcorn on his bed side table, serving him as his depression food. He sees your post show up, an adorable picture of you from the dog café, a big golden retriever in your lap as you giggle at its face. The picture is candid and looks like the kind Felix would like to keep as his lock screen if he had the chance. He’s sure his best friend took it for you not only from the fact that you went out with him tonight, but also for the fact that he’s tagged in the post’s description with a big blue heart emoji. 

He could stop staring at the picture if he really wanted, he could mute your posts and pretend you never existed to shelter his poor heart. He could do everything in his strength to cut all his ties with you. That would make it so much easier for him, wouldn’t it?

But he doesn't. And maybe he doesn’t even want to-- he’s used to the pain anyway, isn’t he? The bitterness, the feeling of being pushed away, ignored and left forgotten. 

He was supposed to be in Jisung’s place now, but that doesn’t change the simple fact that he isn’t-- maybe it was never his place to claim anyway. 

Felix stares at the picture for minutes, wondering of how things could be if you only didn’t fall for his best friend. Or if he came with you today. Who knows, maybe it wasn’t too late for him to ask you on a date. Maybe he could still change your mind. Felix likes to give up on things too quickly, though, and that is the curse that will follow him his whole life. 

Lee Felix is good at cheating. He is insanely good at it, he would also say it’s the only thing he’s ever been good at. Pretending.

It’s his time to shine again. It’s time to pretend he doesn’t like you, pretend you don’t hurt him, pretend he isn’t in love with his best friend’s crush. He’s been always the best at cheating and now it’s time to cheat his way out of liking you. 

Sounds easy, doesn’t it?

“You must be really hungry, if you’re planning to eat all of that in one setting,” Felix mumbles, watching you as you eat yet another plate of chicken wings in yet another pointless bistro in town. Felix wonders how you even know about all of these, since the one you’re both sitting in right now, in the middle of the night, looks rather lonely. It doesn’t even seem that welcoming-- it has graffiti on the walls and the seats are a little torn on the edges, but you don’t seem to care as you munch on the chicken, eyes big when you stare back at your companion.

“I eat a lot when I’m stressed,” you mutter in between your bites, mouth full. You look natural like this and Felix realises this is you in his mind-- cheeks full of food, that little wrinkle in between your brows when you look at him, eyes staring big into his like a loyal dog. This is how he knows you, in your rawest form, and this is coincidentally, also, how he likes you the most. He loves and treasures every single version of you, but your late-night meetings feel of different kind of intimacy to him that he’s sure he’s going to think of even when he’s old and his college years are dusty like an old polaroid picture.  

“Stressed?” he asks, tone of voice a little more worried than usual. Felix always worries about you. Even when you quietly take out your cheat sheet from under the table and write your answers down. He doesn’t fear being caught-- he frankly doesn’t care that much, but he knows that you are having a battle with yourself and he really doesn’t want you to feel like you lost. He didn’t know it was so easy to put someone else first when you worry for the future. 

“The finals are coming up.” you clarify, the words coming out a little bashful and smitten.

“Oh.” he nods. 

You’re both quiet for a while. It would be cheesy to say the silence was comfortable, and Felix knows, he’s seen enough teenage dramas to know these words are used in situations like this, but the truth is, there’s no other way to describe it, and he understands that now. Your determination shines through all your edges and he’s glad you’re doing what you can with the resources you have. You’re not exactly studying for your Biology finals, but it’s still as hard and as stressful as that. It can feel a little embarrassing at times, but there’s no other way around it. You have to battle your enemy, even if it means the game is not fair.

“And those chicken wings are fucking good, dude,” you mutter after a while, offering him one of the paper baskets the server brought you a few minutes ago, looking rather stoned and not interested in your presence at all.

“Don’t tell me this rotten place is winning your chicken wings and fries contest,” Felix snickers, taking a bite that, to his surprise, actually tastes the best out of the amount of fast food chains and restaurants you’ve brought him to. You should never judge a book by its cover and this bistro is clearly one of the examples.

“I have only one place left to go, so we’ll see then, but I guess it might just be the top place right now,” you muse out, a wide grin decorating your features as you glance up at Felix that watches you scribble down your notes on a mini piece of paper.

“Wanna go with me there? After the finals, of course. We can celebrate if we pass,” you point out, licking your lips in nerves, “I don’t think I’ll need these ‘tutoring sessions’ anymore then, but I still want to hang out sometime.” you say, putting air quotes around the words tutoring session, looking at him with expectations in your eyes.

“Oh, sure,” he agrees, nodding. “I have to be there when you finally declare your last yelp review.”

You only laugh at him and shake your head, eating some more as you look down into your notes again, lost in work. “I still don’t get how you can do these so fast.”

“I already know what’s the most useful. You don’t have to copy the whole textbook on there.”

“You can never know! What if I’ll need it all?” you exclaim, only making him laugh harder.

He points his eyes out of the window, watching the empty parking lot. You didn’t come in your car today, telling Felix your house is close anyway, and Felix doesn’t dare to drive his car anywhere unless he doesn’t need to. He has a little bit of a trauma since the last time he drove with his dad and he almost ran the car into a tree, getting a shower of swear words and exclamations from his dear father, so he only drives his small white Renault when he needs to go home. Which is, coincidentally, next week. 

“I really don’t want to go home next week,” he sighs.

“Your family is still onto you for the smallest shit?” you ask, tone of voice sympathetic.

“Yeah. Can’t wait to graduate so I don’t have to listen to them talking about a degree anymore,” he rolls his eyes, “I only have to find myself a partner so my grandma can shut up about me being single all the time.”

You softly laugh, making Felix look at you for a moment, his heart skipping a few beats when your eyes meet for a little more seconds than usual. “I’m sorry. You can always text me, though, if you need anyone to talk or gossip with.” you say, averting your eyes from his.

“You’d have to be on your phone 24/7, then. My mental stability comes down by 70% when I’m back home and it’s already only on 15% now,” Felix snickers.

“Oh, I don’t mind. I’ll be staying here anyway.” you say, giggling.

“You’re not coming back home?”

“No,” you shake your head in disapproval, quickly glancing into his eyes before speaking up again, “it’s my parent’s wedding anniversary, so they’re going on a holiday. There’s no use in me coming home if I’m just going to be alone there anyway,” you shrug.

Felix hums, nodding in understatement. “That makes sense. I’m sorry you can’t meet your family on holidays, though.”

“It’s okay,” you say, “I see them often anyway. One Christmas won’t kill me. I have a whole season of Game of thrones to catch up on anyway.” you light-heartedly laugh, sounding like Felix’s favorite song. He smiles with you, shaking his head in disbelief at how positively you can always see the world, when he glances out of the window for a moment again, only to be met with a surprise. 

There are white flakes of snow falling from the sky and something in Felix wakes up-- something he’d call happiness, maybe even joy, when he quickly shoots up from his seat and calls you with excitement coating his voice, “Y/N! Y/N! Come on!”

“Come where? Felix, what are you-” 

He doesn’t let you finish as he takes you by the hand and tugs you on your feet, tugging you out of the empty bistro out into the dark parking lot, admiring the snowflakes falling onto the ground and every surface in his sight. He sees some stick into your hair, making him giggle as his outstretched hand dusts them off subconsciously, when he starts running around like a happy child, laughter coming out of his throat filling the silence.

“It’s snowing!” you exclaim, when Felix reaches your body frozen in its place again. He reminds you of a golden retriever when he jumps a little in his place, his feet happily crouching in the snow. You laugh at his antics when he starts acting like a little boy, this side of Felix being so new to you, yet you can’t help but feel your heart swell with admiration when he asks you to catch some snow into your mouth.

“Felix! That’s disgusting!” you refuse, laughing.

“Oh come on! It’s just water!” he cheers, leaning his head back and opening his mouth wide, waiting for the snow to fall into his mouth. 

“But it’s unhygienic and dirty! You have to be kidding me!” you still reject his idea, standing your ground firmly as always in your life so far, when a face of a boy looking like an angel takes you by surprise and his big eyes plead you in a way that makes you drop all your grudges and all your beliefs down, rolling your eyes when he pouts, leaning your head back as well and opening your mouth with a loud ‘aaaa’ sound to satisfy his foolish heart.

Once you both feel a snowflake hitting your tongues, you look at each other with your tongues out, laughing at how stupid the other one looks, pointing to your tongues. You shake your head. “It melted off, you stupid!”

“You did the same thing!” he bursts out laughing, bending over in the force of his emotions. You watch him with a wide grin plastered onto your face. It feels like watching a movie. You don’t think you’ll ever have a brighter memory with the boy in front of you, with his cheeks red from the snow and smile so wide it hurts both of your jaws.

You instinctively take his hands into yours, looking down on your feet as you start going around in a circle with him, going quicker and quicker as you watch your footprints in the snow mixing with his, the dry skin of his hands making you feel strange. You laugh out when your head starts spinning, looking up at him to find him already staring at you with stars in his eyes, when you wonder,

isn’t this how love is supposed to feel?

All of his life, Felix had thought that family gatherings could always either go two ways, and that is: 1) a normal, boring meet-ups where your grandma asks about how school’s going, when you’re going to finally find a partner and another one of your cousin’s announces their engagement party, or 2) the actual engagement parties-- every single family member including the senile grandma from mum’s side gets drunk and you don’t have to think about more fake reasons why you have yet to lose your virginity.

You see, Felix is wrong in a lot of things. And this was surely one of them-- it’s the December 27th and he’s sitting in his grandma’s old kitchen, the wind blowing through the cracks of her window and the sweets on the table have already melted from the heat being too high, because his aunt is always cold and they can’t compromise. That sounds fine, even usual, Felix would say, however, the fire lights up a few moments later when his head starts to hurt from all the talking and he begins to dissociate a little too much, meaning that his grandma now has to shift her attention from all of his other relatives to him, because how dare he stay quiet on a family gathering where he has nothing to add to the conversation, right?

It starts off as usual, the answers to these questions digged deep into Felix’s brain since the first year of college. He doesn’t even bat an eye when he answers the questions directed at his studies and grades, telling all of his interested relatives that he’s working hard and it’s paying off. Nobody complains or disagrees-- his grades are awesome. His degree is here soon. Felix almost thinks he’s over with when his grandma laughs at a poor joke that comes out of his mouth, but that was only a bad prediction as he moves on to questions about his love life, which are, believe me or not, much more boring and much more ego-hurting for the blonde.

“Do you have a girlfriend yet, Felix?” she asks, tone of voice sounding rather interested, but don’t believe her-- it’s only an act. She’s ready to laugh into his face when he gives her the answer she’s hoping for.

“No, not yet, grandma,” he mumbles, averting his eyes from her wrinkley face as soon as possible. He really doesn’t need to look at her any longer to know she’s silently judging him on the inside, because that’s just how his grandmother is. 

“That’s such a shame… I wonder why… You’re such a pretty young boy, aren’t you?” she mutters under her nose, tone almost whiney, “what about your roommate? Jisung, was it?”

Felix takes a deep breath in, closing his eyes for a second to calm his rising heart beat. He could have predicted questions like this coming, because the conversation always somehow diverted to his roommate even when he was at home with his family. It’s crazy, how everyone just seems to adore Jisung much more than their own family member. 

“He’s.. Yeah. He’s always with someone, you know him. Not now, though, now he’s single,” Felix nods, explaining.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll find someone soon,” she admits, “he’s such a gentleman. And so handsome as well, isn’t he?” she asks, his aunt from her right side nodding quickly at the mention of Han Jisung. 

“He always has so many people around him, he’s so charming. If only you were more like him, maybe then someone would date you as well,” his grandma says calmly, not even noticing the way her words cut deeper and deeper into Felix’s heart, kicking him and punching him like a boxing bag, “you should try to be more like him.”

Felix bites down on his lower lip, rolling his eyes. Frustration coats his voice once he speaks up, the built-up anger living inside of him like an animal kept well in its cage. He doesn’t want to let it out, because he fears what it might do once it’s free, but he still retorts to a dig addressed to his grandma, huffing in annoyance. “Should I send Jisung home instead of me next time?”

“Oh no, Felix, what are you even saying right now?” his grandma looks rather offended, eyes twice their usual size as she glares at him.

“Well, since you like him so much.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I was just saying that-”

“Leave it.” Felix says. 

The atmosphere is too heavy now, all eyes on him as if he was in a circus, watching him just moments before his breaking. He realises he no longer feels welcome in this place and maybe he never did, he just chose to ignore it by now, because that’s what he always does when a problem appears-- he chooses ignorance. Ignorance is Felix’s best friend, and although it may sound like he’s running away from his problems all the time, it’s always worked so far. He’s just protecting his heart, building walls around it. 

He doesn’t want to fight. He hates conflict. So, even though he’d like to snap, even though he’d like to leash out like an animal, he doesn’t. He steps back-- as he always does, taking the car keys from the table and escaping the house, hearing the calls of his mother after him. He doesn’t bother to say goodbye, he doesn’t even bother to look back nor take the Christmas gifts his grandma brought for everyone. 

He sits into the small white Renault he drives once a year when he comes back home, starts the engine and speeds up to the limit, driving away from all of his problems. He doesn’t want to hear their complaints, he doesn’t want to listen. It’s the best this way. He wants to ignore the words that came out of his grandma’s mouth, but he can’t find it in him as he hears them resonate in his head over and over again. 

He’s the second choice even in his own family. He’s a joke to everyone, isn’t he? Just the side character, the one that never gets the spotlight. It hurts, it hurts him so much, but he pays no attention to his blurry vision, because even though he’s fairly sure no one from his family would miss him, he doesn’t want to drive off the road and kill himself with his escape.

He parks the car in front of his and Jisung’s flat after a few hours. He’s fairly good at it, considering he never drives, and mentally puts up a middle finger to his dad in his head for screaming at him so much. He was in a much calmer headspace when he was driving with his dad than he was now, yet, he didn’t manage to drive anyone over. 

Putting his feet into the cold, empty apartment, turning the heating on and plopping down on the sofa, he once again realises how lonely it feels. Not only because of the feeling of abandonment the dark flat resonates, but also due to the fact that it truly feels like now, he’s all alone in this world. The silence screams louder than any words ever could, his ears lowly ringing without any sound in the small room, which makes him wonder if he’s truly the only one that has to spend his holidays pretty much alone. Maybe it’s his fault that he’s fucked it up with his family, who knows-- but that’s a topic for another overthinking session of his, when he decides to let it go once his eyes meet the snow silently falling down behind the window. 

The dark mixed with the white balls of fluff in the air remind him of you. Your bubbly laugh, the feeling of your skin on his when you held his hands and danced around with him in the snow. He feels a smile growing on his face, despite everything he’s heard today, his fingers involuntarily texting you to see if you’re doing anything and if you can hang out with him today. 

He meets you at the door a few minutes later, your nose runny from the cold and hands dry, smiling at you with a sense he can only describe as belonging, because he realises, maybe you feel just as lonely as him on holidays and suddenly, he no longer feels sorry for leaving.

“Why are you even here, Lix? Shouldn’t you be at home?” you ask him when you’re taking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the hanger by the door. He bites down on his lower lip to suppress a bitter chuckle. 

“Christmas got cancelled this year.” he shrugs. 

It’s not like he doesn’t trust you. You know better than anyone what his struggles are-- he asked you to keep his secrets numerous times. It’s just that now that you’re here, it’s like his soul finally feels calm and he no longer wants to whine about his grandma or his aunts anymore. It’s just you and him and the empty apartment. If he was anyone else, maybe he’d try to get into your pants. He’s just Lee Felix though, and he’s absolutely, wholeheartedly in love with you, he realises, and believe me, it kind of takes him over the edge, and so he doesn’t try anything. 

And you look at him in understatement, no other questions asked.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s all a capitalistic holiday anyway,” he shrugs.

You follow him into the living room and he throws the remote control into your lap, telling you to choose a movie before he comes back with popcorn. 

“If you don’t pick anything before I’m done, we’ll just watch Venom, I don’t care,” he says, seeing you adorably scrunch up your nose at him in response. 

When he comes back and you’re waiting for him with Howl’s moving castle paused on Netflix, he can’t help but grin at you. He places the popcorn on the coffee table and notices himself staring onto your body next to his far more often than the TV and wonders if he really drove away from all of his problems or if he just drove away from one problem to another, because now, it’s getting really hard to focus on staying away from you. 

And when you shiver and curl up into his side, placing your head onto his shoulder, he can’t help but jolt at the contact, staring at you in surprise. 

“It’s cold,” you mumble, pouting.

Felix smiles. He rolls his eyes at you, even though on the inside, he finds you absolutely adorable, taking a blanket from the side of the sofa and putting it over your cold bodies, tucking you both in. You feel warm against his side, your hand resting on his chest. He wonders if you can feel his quickening heartbeat, his stiff body and the nerves rising in his heart. Everything else disappears, the fight back home long forgotten and Han Jisung left somewhere home with his own family, the weight of your body overwhelming him when you fall asleep and that’s when he stops and thinks,

isn’t this how home’s supposed to feel like?

The halls of the university building are empty as Felix stands right in front of the closed door, silently pacing around the corridors and bumping his knee up and down. He just got his final’s results and even though his soul was supposed to be at peace, he finds himself stressing over you, currently sitting in the room behind the closed door in front of him, getting your final’s results from biology back. The professor decided to split your class into two groups for the finals so you can, quote, ‘focus better when there’s less people around’ and even though you managed to cheat on your exams without any problems, he still wonders if you did well and if you passed. 

Once the voices behind the closed doors get louder and louder, he figures it’s near the end of your lecture and he can finally see you again and ask you how you did. 

The last time he talked to you without the stress of finals breathing onto your back was back on Christmas break-- more than a week ago. Ever since then, you two have been meeting in the middle of the night again, preparing for your upcoming tests. You didn’t really manage to talk a lot about anything else and even though Felix didn’t mind, he still missed your mindless rambles and weird jokes you used to crack when you weren’t stressing your mind off. 

The door opens and reveals people coming out, a few of them wearing a toothy grin on their faces as they glance on the paper in their hands, a few of them frowning as they pin their eyes to the ground. It’s not easy to differentiate the ones that passed and the ones who did not do that well and even though Felix feels sorry for them, he wonders why they just don’t cheat their way out of bad grades just how he does. It’s not that hard. It just takes a lot of practice. 

Once he finally sees your face, a big, toothy grin decorating your lips, a big stone falls off his heart, a weight lifts itself from his shoulders, because frankly, you wouldn’t look so happy if you failed, right? You’re not a total psychopath.

“How did you-” 

His words are cut off from his mouth, all air kicked out of his body once he feels you so close, the soft skin of your lips pressed up against his in a happy kiss. He’s startled, to say the least. His cheeks are reddening in the instance and he doesn’t even know if time stopped or if it’s just the rising anxiety and excitement in his chest, but he bites down the confusion and kisses you back finally, closing his eyes and bringing you close by your shoulders. The kiss is a little sloppy and messy, but he doesn’t mind-- all that’s occupying his mind right now is you, your sweet lips, your mouthy kiss, your excited hands creeping up around his neck, your bag that fell to the ground next to his feet, your exam paper marked with the big red A+ flying around the two of you when you let it fall from your grasp, your hair tickling his cheeks, you, you, you.

There’s only you. In the air he breathes, in the ground he walks on, in his hands and on his mind. You’re everywhere. Intoxicating.

You pull away from him after a while, grinning at him. It still manages to startle him a little-- how just the small gesture can light up his whole world, how your smile can make him feel like he’s the luckiest person on this earth. He sees stars in your eyes and he wonders who put them there, hoping to be the one, believing he could finally be the one, with how you look at him and hold him in your arms-

but it’s Felix’s life we’re talking about. There’s only you, you, you and maybe somewhere, far away in the distance, there could even be him, but who’s always there for sure is Han Jisung.

Han Jisung staring at the two of you from the open door, mouth agape in shock. Han Jisung with trembling hands, Han Jisung with his books clutched close to his chest as Felix’s heart drops and reality finally hits him. You were never supposed to be his to kiss. You were supposed to be Jisung’s-- his roommate’s, his best friend’s -- you fell for him long, long ago and that’s how it’s always been. 

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, to comfort his dear friend that looks like he’s heart’s being broken, but he finds no words in him to console his actions. He feels bad, he feels so, so guilty when their eyes meet, but he doesn’t manage to say anything before Jisung turns around the corner and leaves. 

The sound of Jisung’s quick steps is the only thing resonating in Felix’s mind like a bell, a signal for him that he fucked up, he did a really, really bad thing. 

His insides clutch and eyes water in the empty college corridor when he wonders,

is this how it feels to break someone’s heart?

You kick the small rocks beneath your feet, gazing into the distance. The cold in your bones makes you shudder, your eyes trailing around the neighbourhood so foreign to you, putting your hands into your pockets so you shelter your fingers from the frozen air. You think how this place looks exactly as you imagined it to-- tall apartment complex and a single big tree in front of it, the cars parked in the driveway obviously having their spot as the neighbours have lived together for a long time to know not to park anywhere else, because it’s more efficient this way. 

You’re waiting and waiting, hoping to see the one you’re waiting for soon, because you doubt your confidence will last you for any longer if you don’t talk to him now. You could lie and tell yourself it’s okay and that you’re not nervous at all, but after Jisung ran away the other day and his roommate followed him a few moments later, you feel nervousness creeping into your skin after not seeing or hearing from Felix for three days now. 

You remember him telling you that he likes to go for late-night convenience store runs every evening to get his favorite snacks. It wasn’t hard to find out where he lives-- it’s the 21st century, for god’s sake. You asked a friend of his friend and here you are, waiting  for him to appear in the door of his apartment complex, ready to talk to him about the events of this week.

Once you hear the door opening, you feel your head snap to its direction quicker than the speed of light, knees almost getting weak at the sight of Lee Felix standing there, confusion written all over his face once his eyes meet with yours. The frown forming on his face only deepens your stress as you wonder if he didn’t want to see you today, which, considering the fact that he’s been ignoring you for the past few days, might just be the case, but it still makes your heart break just a little when you hear him sigh once he makes his way over to you, the sound of his sneakers on the ground being the only thing heard in the middle of the night.

All the snow has melted-- as if all the bright things have left just in time with it, leaving you sad and cold, the clouds of your breath hitting the cold air being the only thing reminding you of the weather as you feel your body heating up in his presence. 

“Can we talk?” you ask, voice steadier than you expected it to be.

“I- I mean,” he starts, a shaky and husky voice hitting your ears, signaling that he probably hadn’t spoken to anyone for a long time now, “you’re already here, so I guess…”

You nod at him, averting your gaze quickly to the ground, when you realise you suddenly don’t know what to say. You try to search for words, yet none come out of your mouth. Your mind is blank and it seems like his presence took away all your vocabulary, but deep on the inside, you know damn well that if you don’t speak up now, you won’t have a second chance and you really have to get it now.

“Why- why…” you mutter, “why did you leave without saying anything the other day?” you ask.

The silence is overwhelming as you start to hate the sound of your own breath, opting to hold it for a few seconds as you await his response. 

“I mean, isn’t it obvious?” 

You shake your head in confusion, finally meeting his eyes again. “No.”

“Jisung… Jisung saw us. I didn’t feel like it was right,” he explains, cracking his knuckles in a nervous habit you noticed in him a long, long time ago when he first tried to teach you how to cheat in class without getting caught.

“What does he have to do with anything?”

“You two like each other.” he says bluntly, taking you off-guard.

The moment these words come out of his mouth, you realise not one, but two things. One of them is fairly new to you, the fact that Han Jisung liked you back was something you never knew you could experience, but even though you should be flattered, you realise it no longer holds a meaning in your heart. The second thing is connected to the first-- and that is, Lee Felix doesn’t know that you like him now. His foolish, silly mind convinced him you were still in love with his best friend, his confused and frustrated brain didn’t let him realise that for a long, long time now, the freckled boy in front of you has been the only one you thought about when you were falling asleep at night.

You don’t even know when it happened. You guess it just did. You wondered how it’d feel to know what exactly made you fall for Felix, what that moment was, but something inside of you is telling you that maybe, it was even more wonderful this way. Unexpected, but totally reasonable.

“Why would I be kissing you if I still liked Jisung?” you ask, the fear of directly confessing to him and getting rejected creeping up in your shadow.

“I- I don’t know-”

“Exactly.” you cut him off before he rambles and manages to find a stupid, silly reason in his head to justify his wrong expectations. You know how he is-- if he overthinks things hard enough, he’ll surely find an answer. There’s none, though, so you don’t dare to give him time to think about it and ponder on the thought for any longer.

“But that doesn’t matter now anyway,” he shrugs, putting his hands into his pockets.

You wonder what’s going on inside of his head right now. You wonder if he regrets what he’s done-- if he wants to turn back time and never let you kiss him. The nerves make you bite down harshly on your bottom lip and you only catch yourself when you feel iron in your mouth, quickly licking your own wound on the surface of your mouth and take a deep breath in. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“Why would it?” he says, eyes boring into yours.

“Because… I thought it meant something to you? I mean, it meant a lot to me, at least. That’s why I’m even here in the first place,” you chuckle airly, feeling your throat get dry.

“I’m not saying that it didn’t, I just think it had no point.”

His words feel like knives thrown into your chest, like a fire burning the pit of your stomach. You feel your legs getting weaker at his arguments, your fingers harshly tugging at the skin of your cuticles hidden in your pockets. You don’t trust your voice to sound steady this time when you speak, but you don’t care. Maybe it’s time to show your real emotions. Maybe it will change Felix’s mind.

“And why is that?”

“Because people like you don’t date people like me. You’re supposed to be in love with Jisung. You’re supposed to be dating him, he’s supposed to date you. You’re too good for me anyway.” he shrugs.

“Is this all about Jisung?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

You watch Felix sharply inhale in and out, averting his eyes from your figure. The distance between the two of you is unnatural, as if to singal how the two of you are slowly drifting apart. You see him fold his hands on his chest, preparing for what he’s about to say.

“It hurt him, back then. And I hate that. He loves you and I just.. I can’t do that to him, when I know  how much he cares about you.” he says.

Love is a strange thing. You hear Felix say how much Jisung loves you, but is that really true? Does Han Jisung even know you? The real you?

Does Jisung know how you look with your mouth full of fries and a greasy forehead? Does he know how you look when you’re stressed out of your mind because of finals? Does he know your favorite bistro, does he know your favorite movie? Did you cuddle up with Jisung on the couch just because you wanted to be close to him, comfort him and tell him you’re there just a few days after Christmas? 

Or does he just know the self you put up in front of him when you went to meet him? The put-together you that cares even about the sound of your own laugh, not wanting it to sound ugly in his ears? 

Han Jisung can’t love you. He doesn’t even know you.

And you never loved him-- just for the same reason. The feelings you had for him were merely a feeling of attraction, so far away from love.

But now you know how you feel about Felix, how his smile lights up the world and how his presence makes you feel understood. How even the silence with him speaks louder than a million words, how he knows you like the back of his hand and how he treats you like his closest friend. You know that what you feel when you’re with him is stronger than anything you ever have and although it used to scare you for a moment, now you’re ready to embrace it and live with it, if he lets you.

Lee Felix doesn’t tell you he loves you. Maybe you can see it in his eyes.

Why does he have to put everything above love? Why does he care about Jisung more than you? It’s breaking your heart. 

“Felix… I’m sure he’d understand. He’s a good person. I’m sure he’d want you to be happy.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand-”

“He’s a grown adult!” you yell out, the built-up emotions coming to the surface in the form of frustration, your words sunding spiteful and angry. Maybe you are furious, maybe you are full of fire right now, but it’s all because of the boy in front of you and the things he refuses to let himself enjoy.

“Why do you even care about it so much, huh? I was your fucking second choice all along anyway!” 

You look at him in shock, your eyes watering at the sight of the frown sitting on his face. Something inside of you breaks and you think it’s safe to say it was your heart, choking you up as you shake your head in disapproval. 

“Felix-” you protest, but there’s no use.

You see him turn around on his heel, opening the door to the apartment complex and leaving. It feels like you’re losing him, it feels like he’s gone forever. He turned his back on you, refusing all the love you were willing to give him, all the love you were offering to him right here, your heart in your hands.

He gave up on your love.

People in movies go out to party after a break-up to get drunk and numb their feelings. They either go to the club or go to a stupid college party, which is, coincidentally, your case today, but you’re not here to get drunk tonight. You’re not here to drown out your feelings and numb your pained soul-- you’re simply here to try to have some fun.

Your mum told you long, long ago that happiness is a choice. You could argue with her and tell her that depression and heartbreak aren’t a choice and that they, by themselves, are causing people the most sadness, but you had to give your mum a point. If you don’t choose to try, if you don’t do anything to at least try to stimulate your own brain, you can’t expect happiness to find you by itself. That’s just, sadly, not how life works, and you weren’t going to drown out in your own tears just because of Lee fucking Felix, because if you weren’t worth trying for him, he’s not worth any of your tears.

You appear on Lee Haechan’s end of the semester party. You have A+ finals to celebrate and although you would be much happier to drink to them with the one that basically helped you get through the semester, you won’t pass the chance to socialize. You worked hard and you did a good job-- you deserve a party. Alcohol truly isn’t the best for your brain, but you will just decide to call it selfcare. It’s not like you’re getting blacked-out drunk tonight anyway.

You manage to have small talk with a few people from your class. Though it’s not exactly what’s stimulating your brain, you don’t mind it. You barely know these people and you couldn’t care less, but you guess this is the downside of socialising. 

The alcohol in your veins doesn’t give you a chance to loosen up, though. You only feel your body warmer with the beer hitting your system, but your feelings still taste of salt, your brain not cooperating with your grandiose happiness plan and you think the people talking to you notice, since no one really tries to keep you in a conversation long enough when you start to absently nod at them and pay zero attention to what they’re saying. You don’t blame them, though. You’d probably do the same in their place.

Your feet move their way to the front door when you decide that maybe your mum wasn’t right, completely ready to go home and pity yourself for a few more days before coming back to life, when a familiar voice calls you from behind, making you freeze in your spot.

“Y/N, long time no see.”

Han Jisung watches you with glossy eyes, yet he tries to look nonchalant at the sight of you. It doesn’t feel like his heart is breaking when he sees you right here and there, chewing on your bottom lip, more or less, it feels numbing to his heart and his head. It’s like he expected it all from the start-- the outcome that once so surprised him. But after all this time he spent overthinking and dwelling on the memory of seeing you kissing his best friend, it made sense to him. 

“Jisung…”

He can see your eyes growing worried when you watch over him and he mentally slaps himself for not handling his emotions with more care back then. He could have spared you a lot of pain and trouble if he hadn’t reacted in such a way in the doorway of your classroom, but the truth is, Han Jisung hadn’t really known just how much a true heartbreak feels and nothing could ever prepare him for the physical pain numbing his chest. He didn’t know it could hurt so much. 

He doesn’t want to worry you. You are still his friend, after all, right? That’s all you always have been and he should have understood it from the first moment he saw you gaze at his friend so lovingly in the university halls one day. He thinks you, yourself, didn’t even recognise the emotion in you when you watched over Felix with so much care, with so many stars in his eyes and a big grin on your face. He could never compare himself to Felix.

He doesn’t want to worry you anymore, and so he decides to talk to you like a friend would. You looked like you could use a friend tonight.

“How have you been?” he asks, smiling at you. He hopes his eyes convey the emotion he feels-- how after all this time, he still feels comfortable with you and desperately needs you to do the same. He can’t lose another friend. Not to love. 

That happens every single time. Truth be told, Jisung used to have a problem with differentiating true love from platonic feelings sometimes. He used to think he falls out of love just as quickly as he falls in, but the truth is that it was never even love at all. Sometimes, it was just pure admiration. Feelings for a friend. And he managed to ruin all his friendships just because he started dating them. 

And then, he just kept searching and searching for the right one, because no one ever felt right. No one ever made him feel loved, no one ever made him feel love. It felt suffocating, but so, so addicting. He could never give up on trying to find love.

And then he met you. And it finally made sense-- it finally felt right.

“I’m… I’m fine, thanks,” you say, smiling at him with that smile that still, admittedly, made his heart race and swell with love. He’s not afraid to call the emotion by its name. It doesn’t feel wrong. He used to think he wants it to stop, but the truth is, it still feels nice. 

Love feels like loneliness sometimes. It’s a bittersweet feeling. But it’s still so, so addicting.

“Are you sure?” he asks. He knows you. He knows when something’s wrong.

He also knows your eyes have been searching for his roommate for the past few minutes of your conversation. He knows you want to meet him and avoid him all at once, love him and leave him-- it was a paradox. 

He knows his roommate way too well, though. He knows he can’t fall out of love with you. He knows, though, that he’ll never act upon it. Lee Felix has always been the sweetest person in this whole entire world-- putting the needs of others before his own. He can’t keep doing this to himself.He can’t keep doing this to you.

“I think you know the answer, Jisung. Why do you keep asking, then?” you bitterly snicker, going around him and escaping the noisy house. Jisung doesn’t know if you want to leave, if you want to escape his presence, but he can’t leave you just like that, and so he follows you outside, seeing you sitting at the doorstep, as if you were waiting for him.

“You don’t have to think of me, you know that, right?” he says once he takes a seat next to you, watching your expression change into a pained one. 

“It’s… I don’t know. It’s complicated. And Felix- he doesn’t think it’s right. I can’t force him into anything. It was his choice anyway,” you mutter. Jisung sighs heavily, the feeling your words on his chest heavy and solemn. He hates the fact that he is standing in the way of your happiness. He hates the fact that he is the problem, the invisible wall keeping you two from each other. 

“It’s simple, though.” he shrugs.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. He takes it upon himself to explain before you begin to tell him that it’s not, opting to open your eyes on his own.

“You two are in love with each other. So you should be together. Isn’t that simple?” he asks, smiling at you subtly.

You scoff and shake your head. “He gave up on us.”

“Did he, or did he just do what he felt was right?” Jisung argues. “You can’t keep hiding from each other. You can’t keep trying to ignore your feelings just because I like you. That’s not fair for either of you.”

You don’t argue with him this time. He wonders what’s going on inside of your head at the moment, with your eyebrows furrowed and your bottom lip trapped in your teeth. You look just like all the times he watched you during your tutoring sessions-- focused and lost in thought. It will feel weird to not see you in that way anymore, but he has to try.

The same way Lee Felix always tried for him.

“You’re too sweet, Han Jisung. What a shame our timing’s off.” you say, bitterness coating your voice. He looks up at you again, wondering what your words mean. “I used to like you back then, you know,” you smile.

Here it is, the strange emotion again. The emotion of almost physical pain, a hand squeezing his heart, a knife stabbed into his back. It feels like his world is crumbling down on him, because he’s stupid-- so stupid. He could have had you back then. He could have been with you all this time, only if he wasn’t late. He missed his biggest chance, the biggest opportunity, the happiest time of his life. All because he was too hesitant. 

He didn’t deserve you anyway.

“But now your timing’s right with Felix. Don’t waste that,” he says, biting through the pain.

Because the truth is, if anyone deserved love, it was his roommate. The one that refused you for him, the one that rejected you for him, the one that set him up on a date with you even though you invited him in the first place. The one who gave up on his love only so he wouldn’t hurt his friend. You could say that Jisung was too good for this world, but Lee Felix is the one that deserves the whole entire world, in his eyes.

Maybe these two were just too good of friends. Caring about the other one twice as much as about themselves. And that’s exactly why Jisung will get over this-- he’ll push you to his friend. So he could be happy, finally. 

“Jisung, I don’t know-”

“Do it,” he cuts you off, “reach out to him again. Try it. For me.”

y/n: meet me at the 8Bistro at 9 

Felix can’t believe himself when he finds his legs moving to the direction of the bistro at the edge of the town. He knows it’s the last one on your list, the one you invited him to so you could celebrate your finals in and he finds himself wondering if he could have gone here with you earlier only if the two of you didn’t share that kiss back then.

That damned kiss he couldn’t stop thinking about for the last few days-- even weeks, every time he opened his eyes in the morning and closed them when he was about to sleep. It kept following him like a curse, a thing he couldn’t escape, as if it was testing him like the snake tested Eve in paradise. Foreign fruit. 

You’re sitting there already when he arrives, fingers playing with each other as you gaze at the door in expectation. He sees your usual order already on the table, assuming you got here early, but it’s untouched as your knee bumps up and down under the table and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip.

He takes a seat, allowing himself to look at you again after such a long time. It feels like it’s been ages, yet you still look the same to him-- the same beauty that hit him when he first met you and shared his biggest secret with you.

“Why aren’t you eating? You have to finish off your list,” he mumbles awkwardly, motioning to the food at the table.

“I wanted to wait for you.” you say. Your voice is quiet, almost shy, when you speak to him. He wonders just how much he fucked up that it made you act this way. He knows it’s probably a lot, but considering he’s sitting here right now, he can still fix it.

At least he hopes so. 

“Did you.. Do you want to talk to me about something?” he asks, nervosity filling his veins as he feels his hands form a little swimming pool with just how much he’s sweating.

“Yes,” you nod, taking a deep breath in and out. He wonders if you’re just as nervous as he is. The answer is probably yes, considering your tense shoulders and restless legs, but he doesn’t comment on it as he watches you begin speaking again. “I wanted to tell you that I’m- I’m in love with you. And that it’s for real, and it’s for you and no one else,” you start, quickly wetting your lips and continuing again, “and I know you must feel like a second choice, or like you weren’t important to me at all, but that’s not true.”

“You helped me so much, really, but the more I hung out with you, the more I realised just how wonderful you are. And how your heart is so big, how you’re fun to be around…” you ramble, taking Felix by surprise with your heart-felt monologue, “and that Jisung is not the one for me, because, well, it was just.. it was just a crush. I didn’t know him. He didn’t even know me that well. Crushes… they don’t mean anything. They’re silly. But what I have with you, Felix…” you say, drifting your eyes away from him for a second,

“I know you. The real you. And you know me. You’ve seen me at my worst. You’ve seen me struggle and you know exactly how to help. You know me and I know you and the feelings I have for you are much more than a silly crush. I love you, Felix. And I don’t want to just forget about us.” you complete and Felix swears he can feel his eyes watering at your words. He chooses not to speak up, afraid of his voice breaking, afraid he’s going to embarrass himself in front of you. His emotions got the best of him and right here and now, no one else matters. 

It’s you. You that feels like home, you, the only girl he’s ever loved. You, the only girl that ever loved him back, you, who he foolishly rejected. 

You’re everywhere. In his veins, in his heart, in his foolish, stupid mind.

“Felix… I don’t want you to give up on us.” 

He looks up, seeing your sincere eyes and a look full of worry. You seem so wonderful to him, even now. You’re everything he’s ever dreamt of, a home without a roof and walls. With you, he feels at ease. He trusts you. He’s never felt this way for anyone before.

He watches you and he hears your laugh, he hears your whines when he used to tease you so much. He hears the sound of your memories when he chased you around in the snow. He hears the opening song of Howl’s moving castle, reminding him of the warmth he felt when you hugged him so close that evening.

He used to want to hate you. He should have known that could never be the case.

You’re all he needs-- all he wants. You’re everywhere he looks, in every beauty of the world and in everything that’s dear to him. 

You, you, you, you.

And so he decides-- it’s time to change his plan.

Lee Felix’s bullet-proof guide to loving you: 1) hold her hand, 2) get rid of the guilt, 3) lean in and kiss her.

“Does that mean you’re giving us a chance?” you ask, hopeful eyes glaring at him with millions of stars in them, sparkles swimming around in perfection.

“We’ll talk after you eat. You have a yelp review to write,” he laughs.

“Feli-”

Lee Felix’s bullet-proof guide to loving you: 4) shut her up by forcing french fries into her mouth.

“I love you too.”

[madametrashbin]

Wishful Dreaming

In which I pretend Part 3 of Inazuma’s story doesn’t exist and everyone is alive before shit goes down. Yes, people who read this, it’s time for best friend headcanons/drabbles/whatever the hell this is with Teppei. Honestly, it’s just no thoughts head empty right now and I might have gone off tangent a lot.

(And by a lot, I mean the majority of this piece, probably... by the way, credits to @streimiv and @myuni-moon for making my brain be hyper focused on Self Aware Cult Genshin... I can’t get it out of my head as of right now.)

Enjoy, even if it’s never going to be beta-read by anyone and I will never go back to edit this even if I find mistakes in this later on... and I also don’t know where my brain went for this, but what’s done is done. 

I’m not even sure if I did his personality correctly, ahaha...  (；^ω^)

(I’m going to project my denial in this, so please know it might be wince inducing and incredibly self-indulgent.)

The sun is bright at this time of day, the gentle breeze flowing through the tranquil lands of Inazuma, leaving those who are experiencing the nice morning in a blissful escape from its current reality. 

...much like a young foreigner who had left their current abode, leaving behind a note for their caretakers to see as they wander around the land of Eternity for some true fresh air and peace of mind away from the group that had more or less made their life a little too suffocating as of late.

It is also incredibly lonely in there, as they come to understand that no one (for the most part) look at them like they were a regular human... like they were them.

So they now wander, taking in the rarity of solitude that does not come as easily as one might think. Inazuma is beautiful, even if they know that the peace they see around these parts are but a veil that shields the horrible reality going on around them.

(They know what was happening outside the city, outside the teapot they were living in since they were brought here. They’ve experienced it happening before, many times in fact. They know what will happen, and they’re determined to change it. They just need to find a certain someone, and then they’re set.)

Meeting Teppei was something you didn’t really expect all that much, considering you knew he should be still a part of the logistic division of the Resistance Army and would be busy in their current base that was all the way to Yashiori Island.

Yet by sheer luck, or by fate, you meet the good fellow on Narukami Island and had managed to make a pretty good friendship with him over the course of coincidental meetings.

You’ve come to learn a few things about the young man, and it was that he was a pretty trusting guy, didn’t even think twice of being friends with you... which was a little worrisome, considering what happened in the actual storyline.

That’s okay though, you’ll make nothing happens to him... he is one of your only true friends in this world, after all.

“Teppei.”

They call to him as the Resistance Samurai turned his head away from the sight of the Tenshukaku to them.

“Is there anything you wish for? I mean, if you could have one wish granted, anything you want, what would it be?”

The young man looked rather confused at them, before they briefly clarified that they were just curious. As much as they enjoy the peacefulness of silence, they wanted to know what he really wanted... wondering if he really wanted a Vision, for the acknowledgement of the Gods.

“What would I wish for...”

The young man was quiet for a while, no doubt mulling it over before smiling when he comes to an answer, his head lifting to look at the glimmering stars.

“I would wish for the war to end... for the Sakoku Decree and Vision Hunt Decree to be abolished so people won’t have to suffer anymore.”

“Really? Not a Vision, or something like that?”

“Well, having a Vision would be nice, but thinking about it... I think it’s better if everyone is happy. A lot of people are suffering, and even if I did get a Vision, it’s still pretty difficult to win the war against the Shogunate.”

They could only hum quietly in understanding after that, not really certain what else to ask him before he gives them the same question. 

What do they wish for?

To go home. They would have said, but they chose not to because they knew there was probably little chance for them to be allowed to go home... Their “acolytes” are rather over-protective and notably possessive towards them, probably rampaging around Inazuma right now in search of them.

Well, they at least know what they’re going to do once they inevitably find them.

“Isn’t it time you should head back to your camp, Teppei?”

“Huh? Oh, right! It’s getting late! Then, if I have time, I’ll see you again!”

And he’s off in a rush, disappearing when he turned around the rocky walls and out of their sight. At the same time as he left, the bushes behind them rustle, and a frantic Zhongli appears with Venti following behind... both relaxed significantly once they saw them in perfect condition.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you, Your Grace. It’s dangerous for you to go outside on your own like that.”

“Please don’t worry us like that again.”

They immediately take to their sides, quickly ushering them to head back to the Teapot before they stopped them in their tracks. 

“Your Grace?”

“I need to do something. Will the both of you accompany me for this?”

...and by the following morning, an official announcement is made to all of Inazuma with the abolishment of both the Sakoku Decree and Vision Hunt Decree. 

Teppei is rushing over to them with a beaming smile on his face when they meet again that noon, the young man happily shares the good news with them while they simply smiled and nodded along with what he said even if they knew the reason behind it.

They don’t tell him anything, nor mention that it was thanks to him that it ended... well, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Extra, because why not:

It becomes a frequent part of your days now that the War in Inazuma was over. Hanging out with Teppei as often as you could, granted you’d have a few people trailing in the shadows at all times, watching over you so you don’t pull the same stunt again.

You have to spend a bit of time giving warning glares behind you whenever Teppei mentions the cold chills that makes his bones shiver despite the relatively warm weather. 

When the two of you get roped up into a bit of trouble (whether by lingering Fatui grunts, stray Ronins or local Treasure Hoarders seeking to rob you), Teppei would always jump in between you and them, saying he’ll protect you as he holds his spear (that he brings with him out of habit).

...you thinks it’s endearing with how he’s trying to be brave, as you can see his hands shake just a tad bit due to the numbers.

But as much as you want to let him have his moment, you prefer that your friend doesn’t get himself hurt and therefore skillfully lead him away from the danger while the rest (your cult) dealt with them.

When you feel like the divine treatment is starting to get too overwhelming, and you’re feeling a little too lonely, you always make your way to Teppei who is there to provide comfort even if you never really talked about what’s troubling you.

Your friendship with Teppei is strong, even if you rarely talk about yourself to him and how he’s told you practically everything about himself.

There’s just something about that trust that bring you a lot of comfort... it gave a different feeling compared to Zhongli or Fischl’s kind of trust... it was warmer, and felt more like home.

You’re also very adamant in keeping him away from the whole cult business, not wanting him to think of you like how the others did... you don’t want to lose that friendship that practically kept you sane in this world.

The amount of times you have to keep reminding your cult to leave him be is absurd, and as much as they protest about him, the fact you’re upset at them for that is enough to get them to stop.

...for a while, at least. They go at it again for a while when Teppei does something they don’t like until you actually snapped at them. They stopped bothering him after that.

If Teppei does eventually find out about the cult, which will most likely happen because of Kokomi, you would be genuinely terrified in the beginning of it until he gives you proper reassurance that it doesn’t change anything.

Now he’s allowed to see you in the Teapot, often visiting with curious snacks he finds and occasionally sleeping over when you are feeling particularly lonely.

Overall, a very pleasant friendship to have. Being one of the few you can really be open with and not be concerned about how you’re viewed as.

Wholesome boy will always have your back whenever you need him... even if he is a little intimidated by the Raiden Shogun and the other intimidating acolytes that are a part of your cult.

[pinkteapotwriting]

Hey could you please do a dom remus, dom james and sub Fem!reader, with pet play and the use of kitty instead of "daddy".

Scenario: remus is dating the reader but james likes the reader to and james catches them fkn and he ask to join.

Btw i love your content so much! Pls never stop.

This was oddly specific but I also loved it??? Thanks for all of your patience love xXx

James Potter x Fem!reader x Remus Lupin

Warning : Sub!reader, Unprotected sex, Voyerism, Praise kink, teensy innocense kink, i don’t remember if I put degradation, pet play, pet names

Word count : 1730

---

James was cocky, some would consider him arrogant.

You however, found it enticing.

You’re just kind of self destructive that way, I suppose.

Remus was different from James, he was quiet and analytical. When he did have something to say it left a mark. Remus had you memorized, he knew every trigger, every touch, and every desire in that pretty little head of yours and both of you always enjoyed his intuition.

As James flew across his broom stick, dodging every bludger with ease, Remus’s intuition was telling him that you were extremely horny. You were on the best seat in the house, Remus’s lap and every time James would catch the quaffle in his very capable hands, you’d clench your thighs a little. Remus placed his lips at the shell of your ear, his hot breath and tone of voice making you shiver.

“When were you going to tell me about your little crush, poppet?”

“I don’t-”

“Don’t lie to me, you know that gets you punished. Besides, I can feel how needy my girl is, don’t you want me to take care of that for you?”

“Yes please.”

“Alright, if we leave now we should have enough time before everyone gets back, maybe even longer cause it looks like Gryffindor is going to win so there’ll be a party in the common room tonight. We’d have the dorm to ourselves Puppy, how does that sound?”

“Please Remmy, I want it so bad. I want you so bad.”

“Let’s go, we’ve wasted enough time now.”

---

James’ eager eyes scanned the room for his favourite girl, but you were nowhere to be seen. The euphoria of winning had worn off, and all he could do was politely brush people off as he searched. He felt bad that he felt this way, but he couldn’t exactly help feeling it anyhow.

To avoid all the bothersome people he decided to just call it a night and dream of the girl he couldn’t have.

Remus’s girl.

He trudged up the stairs, reminiscing of the time you placed your hand on his shoulder, he didn’t know he was such a fan of physical touch until you showed him. None of the marauders were really cuddly, but you seemed to thrive off of it and he was happy to oblige. At least that was something.

He was so lost in his own thoughts, but something he heard stopped him from the routine habit of opening the door without question. He recognized the cute pitch your voice took, but this time you were moaning, a lot.

And he would have left you alone but he heard his name, so he figured he had a right to listen, right?

“Please Remmy, want your fingers.”

“You don’t want my fingers, you want James’ fingers.”

“I- I want both- still like you too.”

“Greedy girl, one cock isn’t enough for you huh?”

“He’s so pretty, want him so bad”

“Poor dear, James isn’t here so it looks like my girl can’t get what she wants.”

James knew he was confident, but he didn’t realize he was confident enough to burst through the door, not even phased by your naked figure rutting against Remus’s thigh.

“Nice of you to join us James, I was hoping you’d overhear.”

“Yeah? Then I’m glad I did.”

“Puppy, why don’t you greet our guest the way I taught you, hmm?”

“Okay kitty.”

You climbed off of Remus to settle in front of James on your knees.

“She calls you kitty?”

“It’s like her version of Daddy, I find it endearing.”

“It’s cute” he squats down to fondle the pendant on the collar you were wearing. He’d never seen you wear anything like that before. It read the property of R.L.. “So, you’re Remus’s puppy huh?”

“Yes sir.”

“Would you mind being my puppy for a bit?”

“No sir, wanna be your puppy for more than a bit.”

He patted your head and rose to his full height.

“Good girl, what’s your safe word?”

“Red, or I can snap.”

“Why would you snap?”

“In case your cock was in my mouth sir.”

“You should let her suck your cock first, she takes it well.”

It took a lot for you to not clench your thighs together. James studied your eager face and smirked at your instant compliance.

“Alright Pup, get to it. Let’s see if Remus knows what he’s talking about.”

All James wanted to do was eat you out until you couldn’t cum anymore, but he had never met someone so submissive before. It was fun to test the waters, and he would be sure to reward you later. You greedily swallowed his cock, his length wouldn’t deter you, since you were already used to Remus. James’ moans and soft grunts were feeding you into moving at a faster pace. You didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face, but James did.

“Remus, you certainly do know what you’re talking about. Looks like you’ve trained her well. Are there any boundaries you have that I should know?”

“What’s mine is yours, just try not to mark her up too much.”

“That’s a shame, she’d be a pretty little thing to mark up, but she is yours. I can respect that.”

You were whining now while they talked as if you weren’t even there. Looks like they both knew how to direct conversation to make you impossibly needy, oh well.

James grabbed your hair to pull you off of him.

“Why don’t we show kitty how quick I can make you cum? I heard you wanted my fingers.”

“Please, want them so bad.”

“You also said I’m pretty.”

“You are pretty Jamie, wanna kiss.”

He helped you to your feet and cupped the side of your face gently.

Kissing James Potter was much different than kissing Remus. Remus could tease you endlessly about how desperate you were, but his kiss destroyed all pretenses. Remus was fire. James wasn’t cold, but it filled you with a different kind of warmth. His lips were soft, a complete juxtaposition to the way he was holding you. When he pulled away you sighed in contentment.

“Okay, get your ass on the bed.”

Well, his words were less put together than his lips were. But his command didn’t have you complaining.

You climbed on the bed in front of Remus as he enjoyed the show from the head board. You made sure to arch your back the way Remus liked, your cunt on full display. You figured James liked it too considering the way he muttered fuck under his breath as he squeezed your ass. Remus loved the anticipation dripping from your face.

“My pretty puppy, you look ansty. Are you sure you can handle James fingers. I think it might be too much for you.”

“No Kitty, I can take it please.”

“It’s not me you should be asking.”

“Remus she’s been such a good girl don’t tease her. Don’t worry baby, if you’re good you can cum as much as you want, maybe more.”

You looked at Remus with wide eyes, while he barked a laugh.

“Don’t look at me like that pup, you wanted this now you’re gonna take it.”

You wanted to jolt with the electricity that flew when James finally touched your clit, but Remus had trained you better than that, so you stayed planted only letting out a quiet whimper.

“Yeah Y/N, Kitty says you’ve got to take it.”

With that he pushed a finger inside your cunt while rubbing quick little circles with his thumb.

“You’re so wet baby” He was interrupted by your moaning when he pushed a second finger inside. “Taking my fingers so well. I want you to cum before I give you my cock, think you can manage that?”

“Oh she’ll just have to, besides, she loves being a little cum bunny, don’t you darling?”

“Love it so much Kitty, wanna be good, please let me.”

“Nothing is stopping you, go ahead and make a mess on Jamie's fingers.”

Your mouth fell open as James worked you through your orgasm, once he pulled out you were able to catch your breath again. He flipped you on your back and you were smiling at an upside down Remus.

“Fuck you’re precious aren’t you?” He bent down to give you an upside down kiss and grinned at you in your giggly state “James, you better hurry up and fuck her or else I’m kicking you out and I will.”

James took a glance at your now furrowed eyebrows.

“You’re confusing her Remus. Oh Bunny, Kitty was just teasing. Is your brain getting a little fuzzy?”

“A little Jamie, don’t want you to go. Can you please fuck me now?”

“Well since you asked so nicely.”

He pushed in inch by inch and he had this curve that rubbed perfectly against your walls.

“James”

He fulfilled your request with much happiness, snapping his hips into your like that’s all he was meant to do. You went to grip along his back, but he pinned your hands above your head, continuing his ruthless pace.

“Sorry Bunny, if I can’t mark you, you don’t get to mark me, understood?”

You nodded pitifully, barely even able to do that. You were completely absorbed in the pleasure James was giving you. You didn’t even realize you had squeezed your eyes shut until James reprimanded you.

“I can feel your thighs shaking love, keep your eyes on Remus. I want your kitty to watch your face as you fall apart on my cock.”

“Kitty”

“What is it, puppy?”

“Wanna cum.”

“Go ahead and cum pretty girl, you’ve earned it.”

James was quick to stimulate your clit with his thumb again and just when you arched your back at the arrival of your orgasm James was filling you with his own. Slowing down significantly as he worked you both through the remnants of your climax he made sure to capture your lips on his own.

“James, I think you called me Kitty more than Y/N did.”

You frowned at that.

“You don’t need to be jealous Jamie, you can be my kitty too.”

“Really?”

Remus swept some of the hair out of your face, admiring your fucked out expression.

“Really.”

It was only fair that someone as spectacular as you got to be shared.

---

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @midnightgremlin @weasleyposts @bluemoonyblurbs @emmaev @agalandhermarvelobsession

[lipstickstainz]

mismatched socks - s. r.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Request: Spencer's girlfriend (reader, FBI agent too) always wears mismatched socks and when they have their first night together at his apartment he notices, and his brain goes to mush, and falls in love with her even more

Warnings: fluff, some talk about Spencer being insecure Word Count: 2.2k A/N: thanks for the request, love! I really enjoyed writing it! requests are open guys! hope you enjoy. gif not mine.

Spencer had always known he was different. He had always been the smartest in school, which could be attributed to his eidetic memory. He wasn't invited to birthday parties because he liked to tell facts that were funny to him, but that no one else found funny. And he had been rather an oddball in other ways, too.

All his life this fact had made him insecure. He thought of himself as too skinny, too unathletic-especially when he compared himself to Derek, which was pretty stupid, of course-and his hair always lay funny, no matter how hard he tried to tame it. He wore cardigans over shirts-the watch over the cardigan, of course-which was pretty weird, but he wore Converse with them and two different socks every day. He loved magic and physics jokes. Spencer couldn't talk about the latest episode of Greys Anatomy, and he wasn't sure what Team Stefan and Team Damon were. Spencer didn't fit in perfectly anywhere and it had taken him time to accept that. He also never imagined anyone would find in attractive, or even want to be with him.

Until you came along.

On your first day at BAU, he immediately noticed three things about you. First, you walked incredibly fast, actually too fast to just walk from one office to the next. It seemed to her as if you were flying. Second, you tucked your hair behind your ears every few minutes, even when it wasn't falling in your face. He wondered why you didn't use a pin or a scrunchie. But it was a habit that didn't bother him in the least. From the moment he first saw you, he found you irresistibly pretty, and he was glad your hair didn't cover your face. And third, you could write ambidextrously. As the team sat in the conference room and you scribbled something in your case file - also something he noticed, you seemed to prefer paper as much as he did - you reached for your coffee cup with your right hand and continued to write undisturbed with your left, until the entire team looked at you as if you were from another star. It was a look Spencer knew all too well.

He had never met anyone like you.

Spencer liked you from the first moment he saw you. He liked that you took your backpack on both shoulders and that you preferred cocoa to coffee. He liked the way you smiled at him when he brought you one from the office kitchen and set it on your desk. And he liked the way your skin felt on his when you reached under the desk for his hand when you noticed a change in his demeanor. You then squeezed his hand twice. Once for "It's all right" and once for "I'm here, with you."

In your presence, everything seemed as easy as breathing. You listened to him when he blathered on about a subject you didn't understand, because you liked his intelligence and the way he explained things without looking down on others. You even asked when he had to explain something to you, which had surprised him so much the first few times that he had completely forgotten what your conversation was about. He had stared at you and the blush had come to his face. One feature that didn't escape you, but made him even more attractive to you.

When you went to his table one morning and told him that you had seen Star Trek for the first time the previous night, and now wondered how realistic the physics in the movie were, he could hardly stand it. You were beautiful and intelligent and interested in Star Trek? And when you asked him if he could explain something from the movie to you, he was sure his dream girl was standing right in front of him.

"I need your help", he told Derek that very day as they stood together in the kitchen. "How do I ask a girl out?"

Derek nearly choked on his coffee before turning to Spencer. "Since when do you want to date?" He noticed Spencer's gaze, which wasn't on him, but slid past him and lingered on you.You sat at your desk and tucked your hair behind your ears before looking up and over at Spencer's desk.  Derek could see your gaze wander around the office and then linger on Spencer before you smiled and got back to work. With a grin, Derek looked at Spencer. "You're going to ask Y/N out on a date? Oh boy, it's about time you finally do. I already said to Penelope that -"

"Please, Morgan. I just want to know how to ask her out”, Spencer interrupted him, looking at his friend.

Derek's grin gave way to an honest, friendly smile. "Don't make a big deal out of it. Just ask her directly."

"And if she says no?", asked Spencer uncertainly, his mouth twisting into a thin line. He couldn't imagine you going on a date with him, but he couldn't stay in the dark any longer either. He had to at least try.

"She won't”, Derek assured him. The whole team felt that Spencer and you would be perfect for each other, but he didn't tell him that. Spencer should learn to walk before he starts running. "I can see the way she looks at you. And if she does say no, she's not as smart as I thought."

Spencer trusted Derek's words and took it upon himself to ask you out on a date that very day. He had phrased the question countless times in his head, even encouraging himself in the mirror in the men's room, but every time he stood in front of you and looked at your beautiful face, he couldn't get a single word out. They got stuck in his throat and he was so embarrassed that he fled from you several times. By the third time, he had red marks on his neck, which you noticed immediately, and you wondered how you had made him so uncomfortable without having really done anything. When he said nothing again, you put your hand on his forearm.

"Are you okay, Spencer?", you asked, and he just nodded. It's now or never.

"Wouldyougooutwithme?" He almost mumbled, but you had understood him perfectly. "If you don't want to, that's fine, and we'll pretend I never asked. We'll just keep being friends and -"

"Spencer," you interrupted, smiling up at him, "I'd love to go out with you," you replied, and he was able to breathe deeply again. The marks on his neck faded as you tucked your hair behind your ear.

He had done it. Spencer had asked you and you had agreed, but where was he going to take you? Nothing seemed good enough for him. Going out to eat was nice, but you didn't seem like someone who needed to talk the whole time. He thought movie theaters were dumb because you couldn't talk there at all. After two days he had thought of something and he wouldn't have minded if you thought the idea was stupid, but when he presented his idea to you, you smiled at him excitedly.

"I can't wait."

You spent your first date in Spencer's favorite library, surrounded by knowledge and stories. You walked the aisles together, telling stories of books you had read and found to be good, and books you had abandoned because they were so bad you couldn't finish them. As you walked through each aisle, which had actually taken an entire afternoon, Spencer didn't want the date to end. He was going to suggest something else, but you beat him to it.

"There's a couch over there. Shall we sit there? Then you can read me something from your favorite book."

You would be the death of him.

A few weeks later, you had arranged to go for a walk. The weather was nice, not too hot and not too cool, so you strolled hand in hand along the paths. He liked the fact that you worked together but couldn't just talk about the job. You were explaining to him why a certain Matt Donavan from a vampire series was incredibly annoying when someone stopped in front of you.

"Y/N! How nice to see you!", the young woman said, unceremoniously wrapping her arms around you. When she broke away from you, you looked at Spencer.

"Spencer, this is Lisa, my college roommate. Lisa, this is Spencer, my boyfriend”, you explained before you could think about what you had just said. You chatted briefly before going your separate ways again. You noticed a change in Spencer's behavior and feared you had misinterpreted everything. When you couldn't take it anymore, you stopped.

"Look, I'm sorry I called you my boyfriend”, you said, looking down at the ground in shame. "We've never talked about what exactly we are, but it feels like you're my boyfriend and I wish you were, so I -"

"Y/N”, he interrupted you and tenderly reached for your hand. A smile spread across his face. He couldn't believe himself that he would ask you that. "Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

The bar was crowded and the later it got, the more crowded you felt. The team had been in the mood to celebrate after a difficult case, so everyone had gathered in the regular bar. Penelope was putting on some dance moves on the dance floor while Emily and JJ were bawling out the song, which neither Spencer nor you knew. He had his arm around your waist and pulled you tightly to his side, which you enjoyed very much. He didn't fit in here with his shirt and cardigan, but he fit you, you were one hundred percent sure of that.

As you stifled a yawn, he looked down at you. "Shall we go? You seem tired and I'm getting ready to go to bed too”, he suggested and you nodded. Outside, he hailed you a cab and as you got in, you gave the driver Spencer's address.

"We're going to my place?", asked Spencer, looking at you in confusion as you nestled into his side.

"Yeah, I hope that's okay”, you replied, "If it's too soon for you for us to sleep together, then you just have to say so. I won't be mad at you."

How could he be mad at you? You wanted to spend the night with him. You wanted to fall asleep next to him and wake up next to him. He had hit the jackpot.

"Would you like to drink something?", he asked as you sat down on the couch and kicked off your shoes. It wasn't the first time you'd been in his apartment, but you'd never entered his bedroom before and you didn't want to take the step without him. It was still his apartment and his privacy and you respected that.

"Just water, please”, you replied, pulling your legs up so he could sit next to you. He handed you the glass and you took a big gulp.

In your presence, Spencer had never felt like an oddball. You never made him feel like he was different or weird. You didn't laugh at him, you laughed with him, and you had assured him many times how incredibly attractive he was to you, even if he couldn't see it. He wasn't too skinny or too unathletic for you. He dressed askew, but it suited him like a glove and you had imagined more than once what he would look like without clothes. It didn't bother you in the least that he wasn't interested in the technology of today. For you, he was just right. For you, he was perfect.

Even though you often assured him how much you liked him and how happy you were with him, he was still insecure from time to time. But as you sat there together on the couch and you put your legs on his thighs, he was one hundred percent sure that he didn't need to be insecure. On your left foot was a green sock, while on your right dangled an orange sock.

You wore the socks like he did. Two different ones. Had you seen this on him and copied it or had you always worn socks like this? A question that could be answered later. His heart stopped for a second, his brain turned to mush, which is why he couldn't control his following words either. "I think I love you."

Surprised, you looked to him and noticed that his gaze lingered on your socks. "You see my socks and then say you love me? Maybe something isn't going right in that clever head of yours”, you grinned and leaned towards him. Blushes shot up his face. "I love you too, Spencer."

Gently, you placed your lips on his. The kiss was tender, hesitant, but Spencer saw his chance and gently pulled you onto his lap before wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. His heart threatened to overflow with love. As he placed his hands on your butt, you moaned softly into his mouth. He smiled.

In your presence, he didn't feel like he was different.