#i hate having to submit my writing to be graded or judged ....

[jentlemahae]

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[khaleesiofalicante]

hi Dani, how are u?

Do you think there’s a way to stop worrying about grades? I’m majoring in dentistry, but as a first year I have to take basic math for some reason (?). Every teacher has a different grading method, but mine only makes quizzes. Last week I had a quiz and the teacher decided to do it in groups, and I really thought we made everything correct, but the teacher submitted the grades and we only got half of the grade (8/16) and since then I’ve felt really bad because I had done really well until then in the class :((

My classmates told me it’s not a bid deal, but I feel really shitty about everything, because I had done everything really well until then.

I hate feeling like my grades define my worth, but I don’t know how to stop it either 🥲.

I totally relate to this too—especially when I was in uni. First of all, the assignment you did was a group assignment, so it's not entirely your fault. If you got a perfect grade, you wouldn't have taken all the credit, right? So if you didn’t meet your expectations, then you shouldn’t blame only yourself either.

I think something that really helps to not rely too much on your grades for your self-esteem is to ask for qualitative feedback from your teachers. Most teachers just give a grade or a score and don't say much else. If they don’t do that, then you should go to them and ask: What did I do well? Did you see me make any easy mistakes? What can I do better? These are actually questions that you can ask your teacher not just after an exam, but after any assignment or class.

Basically, communication with your teacher about your performance is actually healthy and helpful. I say this while admitting that not all teachers are open to doing this (some are just assholes), so if you do have the opportunity and a teacher who is willing, then talk to them and get their feedback and use that because that's more concrete than a number on a piece of paper.

The second thing is much harder to do, and I've only done it myself when I got older. It’s realizing that exam grades or scores don’t actually reflect your intelligence at all. Especially in a lot of education systems, exams test memory recall and the ability to write a lot in two hours or some other skill that actually has nothing to do with the subject or the career you might be interested in. You really need to find alternative ways to make yourself feel better because more often than not, people who tie their self-esteem to their grades end up tying it to their salary or which university they went to or how many degrees they have, etc. It’s a slippery slope.

It’s okay to tie your self-esteem to your academic achievements. It’s completely normal. But let it be something concrete and personal—like completing a course that you found online, writing an article or essay about a topic of your choice, attending a conference on dentistry, or helping out a dentist at the office. These are all things that will also make you feel good about yourself, and guess what, they are long-lasting and much less stressful than an exam.

So if you’re in uni, I would deeply recommend that you look for opportunities to learn about dentistry or medicine in alternative ways other than just uni classes. If you only learn from school, then the only way you can judge yourself is by your grades. So expand and diversify the way you learn, and you will slowly stop worrying about grades too. There are so many opportunities these days, so I’d recommend that you look out for them and try them out!

Hope this helps!

[caparrucia]

Weird Writing questions 15, 16 and 28 please!

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

I was taught very early on to not "deface" books at all, mostly because most of the books I read are not mine so no, I do not leave marks on them. And even the ones I do own, I feel weird writing/marking in some way. Instead I write notes in a notebook/word document as I read, and keep a mess of color coded nonsense to organize my thoughts on anything I read.

I'm also 100% aware this is a Me thing and not a Right thing, so no, I absolutely do not judge people who write in books and I think that's cool that they can do that, leave bits and pieces of themselves in it. I love finding annotations in books at the thrift store and they weight a lot in my decision to buy them.

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

Technically speaking, blood. Bear with me: when I was in high school, my last year was spent in a lab, making microscope slides for my grade. I fucked up the blood slide so many time I had dozens of them. The biohazard disposal was not available that week (I know, I know, sorry!) and I didn't want to put them in the case with the success slides, because what if they cross contaminated or, more realistically, what if my entirely stupid idiot self misclassified one and accidentally submitted a dud for grading?

So I stuck them into my books.

So yeah. Microscope slides of my own blood as bookmarks. There you go.

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

The old favorites are always Squalo and Izaya for completely different reasons: Squalo is delightful because he's a very frayed, broken straight man in a comedy of errors, and he KNOWS it and he HATES it but it's his own doing, so he's committing. Izaya is just an asshole on a scope that's both ridiculous and intensely grounded to reality and that makes him monstrous in ways that my brain loves de-tangling.

Recently Ardyn has also been a delight, because he's fucked up in very nuanced, very flexible ways and he's a walking cliche waiting to be made into something interesting and good lord, XV, you didn't have to but you did. Thank you.

And then there's Childe.

Childe is going to get ME bitten, I'm sure. I look forward to it! :D

[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.”

[thatfrenchacademic]

hey! you seem like you're a really good TA (? idk if that's the right term but you seem to have some prof/teacher tasks?) and i was wondering how you got the confidence to do that? i'm basically on your level of education but i wouldn't think i was smart/capable enough to judge other students' writing and stuff, i feel like one of them more than one of the teachers if you get what i mean. do you have any advice?

Hello !

That is such a thoughtful question - and I am sure all postgrads who suddendly have to start teaching feel the same at the beginning. In my opinion, it is a fairly healthy mindset to have, as long as it does not inhibit your own teaching and remain just some healthy awareness that, hey, you are still learning many things yourself.

I am very touched you think I am a good TA - I hope I manage to be a helpful one at least.d I definitely still often wonder "am I qualified to teach this ? To... grade this ? Who am I to say whether this is good work or not?" But here are a few thingsm coming both from my experience so far and my discussions with other TA, which could maybe be of help to you (each developed under the cut)

1. You know more than your students, and that will be enough to help them.

2. Teaching is a two way street : you are not lecturing to them, you are working with them.

2bis : Give constant verbal feedback to your students !

3. Your own experience of being an Undergrad may not be the best point of reference

4. Talk to other TAs ! You all face the same issues !

5. Try out things, and if they do not work, it's fine.

6. Organize your session alternating moments where you take the lead, and moments where students take the lead.

7. Help, My students are not talking !

8. Grading is tough, but we can make it easier.

I hope they will be of help, but no worries, it takes practice, trial and errors, and time will help you figure it out. Do not hesitate to come back here if you have any question or something you want to discuss ! (And tell me how your teaching went, I would love to hear it!)

1. You know more than your students, and that will be enough to help them.

It means you do not have to be an expert in the topic you teach. You may even just be familiar with it. But by virtue of being a postgrad student, you know how to do the reading effectively, you will get very quickly what is important, what to retain from this or that reading. And you just need to know more than your students. Which you absolutely will.

I think being passionate, showing that you are excited about what you are teaching, giving them this energy, this interest, is much much more important than being a full-blown expert in your area.

2. Teaching is a two way street : you are not lecturing to them, you are working with them.

And that is not me being vaguely pseudo-inspiration ; it is something I have learnt and truly realized when I took a course on teaching. There is much literature on this, but the take-away is that especially as a TA, it is helpful if you see your job as working with students. Engage with them, offer them different options to choose from during the session, explain that you are here to support their learning, and give them some space to have some agency over what happens ! Trust them to at least try their best - many are!- and they will trust you in return, and will be more likely to give you some feedback.

2bis : Give constant verbal feedback to your students !

This does not come easy to me, but students NEED to be told when they said something good ! Because if you do not tell them explicitely, how would they know that, hey, this was a pretty cool comment !

But also, be clear when answer or a point raised is not relevant or wrong, because it also guides their understand of the topic. "Ok, I can see why you would say that, but it's actually abit trickier...". "Ah, yes, it is very interesting that you raise it, it is a common misunderstanding and I am glad you are pointing it out, because it is an interesting discussion to have!"

3. Your own experience of being an Undergrad may not be the best point of reference

When I started teaching, I made the mistake of thinking "ok, what sort of TA/tutorial do I wish I had, in Undergrad?", and went with what I know I would have enjoyed. Except I am a passionate nerdy introvert who hated talking to my peers and doing group works, and wanted a TA who was no-bullshit, clear, professional. Most of your students are probably not, and may indeed enjoy group work, or the opportunity to connect with their peers during your tutorial. Most of your students will appreciate a TA who is more forthcoming, friendly, and may crack a joke or two. And it is a weird role to have, it may clash with your personality (it definitely clashes with mine), but it's ok if it takes time to find the right zone for you ! It is absolutely part of the process !

4. Talk to other TAs ! You all face the same issues !

Pooling experience with other TAs is fantastic. Because no matter what issue you are facing, one of them faced it already. How do you teach in the shitty Room 605 where the computer does not work ? How do they deal with students who do not do the readings ? How to they handle lack of motivation from students ? What sort of group work do they organize ? Who sort of online tools do they rely on ? How do they deal with all the emails they get ? And on that note...

5. Try out things, and if they do not work, it's fine.

Do not be afraid to try things. I tend to stay away from "complex" activities which can confuse students, or rely too much on technology. But group work ? There are so many types of group work ! Why stick to just the "think of this question in group of 3 for 5 minutes", when you could do a syndicate, snowballing, 2-minutes essay, fishbowl, think-pair-share, buzz groups...

And sometimes, it will not work. Just... a bad session. And you feel that it's on you, that you did not manage to do your work, that you are a bad teacher... And refer to Point 2. Then, calmly, talk about it with another TA. Explain what you did, and try to get their opinion on it, reflect on it. But it is never all on you.

6. Organize your session alternating moments where you take the lead, and moments where students take the lead.

Teaching is exhausting, learning is exhausting, genuinely, so balance out moments where you do the heavy work, and moments where they do. I like to have a rough session plan with all the activities I have planned, and indicate for each if it is "ME", "STUDENTS", "ALL". And also ensure that your students are given the opportunity to really take an active role, which is way better for learning !

7. Help, my students are not talking :

This will happen. You will ask a question, no one will answer. Big, awkward, heavy silence. You reformulated the question, but clearly it is not working. Here are a few ways I have reacted to it :

- Show of hands 1 : for a quick diagnosis. "Can you raise your hand if you have done the reading for this question ? Just so I know if this is maybe the problem". Encourage the ones who have done the readings to explain it to the others.

- Show of hands 2 : "Ok, there are two ways to answer this question X and Y. Can you raise you hand if you think Y, and lower it if you think X?". Encourage some who picked Y to explain why, then same with X.

- Show of hands 3 : "Ok, let's lower the pressure. Who thinks they kind of have an answer, but is not sure about how to word it, or properly argument it?". Ask whoever raise their hand to start, and pick up yourself from there.

- Switch to think-pair-share : "Ok, how about we think a bit about this on our own for a few minutes, and then you can compare your own answers with your neigbour"

- Collapse the classroom : "Ok, I can see that this is not working. It's ok, can you tell me if it is because the topic is not super interesting, or the reading ? Are the questions not what you expected?"

- End of the session clear-up : [once everything is over] "Ok, so now that the session is over, can I ask you guys why it was difficult for you to talk today ? Just so I can make sure I can come up with questions that are useful to you, next time. If some of you want to stay a few minutes to talk about what you would like to change for the next tutorials, we can talk about it now ; you don't have to, of course"

8. Grading is tough, but we can make it easier.

Especially if you are grading things like essays, we can often feel uneasy, unsure how to grade them, how legitimate we are to grade them, especially with the sheer impact grades can have on students. Ideally, you want to have a list of things that are PLUS POINTS, and perhaps some that are MINUS POINTS, and have those strictly guide your grading, to be fair to all students and assess them similarly. I also found that it is helpful to grade the paper, only the paper. When there is a really, really bad essay where clearly the student barely tried, it's easy to get frustrated, because you did your best, and clearly the student did not care ? But you never actually know what happened. Real examples of students submitting absolutely terrible work include : a student who was grieving her mother, a student who had been in hospital and did not know she could ask for a delay, an adult student whose child had gotten sick the days before, a foreign student with a poor grasp on English... When you are grading the 78th essay of the week, it is easy to forget that each of them is from an individual, and we get to judge the work they do, but not why they did it. Even in your comments and feedback, always be compassionate.

[languagebraindump]

How writing can help you learn your target language? 

Writing is the least favorite activity because it’s a silent activity that requires you to think harder than usual. It is often associated with formal style, you know, fancy words, smart arguments, important topics, logical connections, etc. It’s hard. You need a lot of time to produce something meaningful. At school though, you get only 50 minutes to do it. I’m not surprised students don’t like writing. Every time they submit a text, they say: “I don’t know, it sounds stupid to me” or “I don’t think it makes much sense.” I get it. They say that to not come off as “stupid” because they couldn’t write anything meaningful. 

Where’s the problem then?

 1. Teachers rarely state the reasons for writing 

Tip #1 I hate doing things if I don’t know why I’m doing them in the first place. Students believe that they do all the school assignments because, you know, that’s just school. Why not show them how they can apply skills learned while doing those dull school assignments in real life. Why not tell them that they’re writing this particular essay because they’ll need that skill as an adult and different types of essays will help them make better life choices. Let me show you what I mean: 

Book review 

You’re stating your opinion; 

You talk about the strong and weak points of the thing you’re reviewing; 

You’re introducing the thing to your audience. 

In real life, someone asks you (your boss): “What do you think about this deal? Will we benefit from it?” What your boss really asks you is: “Can you review this for me?” At work, you can do it a form of a PowerPoint presentation or just casual talk. Useful? Extremely! 

For and against essay

You introduce the topic;

You give some arguments for and against (why this thing is bad and why it is good);

You state your opinion.

In real life, such a skill might come in handy when you have some doubts about something. An issue you’re dealing with is controversial, but you need to make a decision anyway. Let's say that your company has been presented with an opportunity to make a lot of money, but the stakes are high. You need to consider it carefully. What do you do? You come up with a “for and against essay” kind of thing. First, you do a bit of research about the topic (introduction), then you look for people’s opinions, good opinions (arguments for), and bad opinions (arguments against). Finally, based on those opinions, you try to make the best decision possible. Useful? YES!

Comparative essay 

You introduce the topic;

You focus on the thing that you want to compare;

You state your opinion.

You want to buy a new car, or your friend asks you to help them decide which car they should buy. What do you do? You compare two cars. In real life, you don’t start off with an introduction (especially when you talk with friends), you go straight into the body part of an essay. The core part of an essay that contains the most valuable information. You choose features (of the cars you consider buying) that interest you the most and you compare them. 

Tip #2 Writing such essays will help you express yourself more logically, whether it’s at work or among friends. To master it, you need to practice as much as you can. School is the time when you can do it without worrying about the grave and dire consequences. At school, you get second chances, in life rarely, if ever. 

Target language + writing = success 

This rant is getting long, but bear with me! 

When you study on your own, you don’t have to worry about all the things you worry about at school. You’re writing for yourself, so your essays can be messy. You can make mistakes and spend days on producing a piece of writing. The goal here is to practice expressing yourself. Writing gives you time to come up with ideas, words, phrases, and grammatical contractions. It’s just you and the sheet of paper. No one is going to judge you or grade you. It’s stress-free and you can write whatever you want.

Tip #3 Remember that essays follow particular structures for a reason. The commonly accepted structures help you sound less chaotic and more organized. 

Tip #4 When you’re told to write something, don’t think: “I’ll never need it anyway, why bother at all.” Instead, think: “Hey, this will help me present my viewpoints when someone asks me to compare two things or state my opinion on a controversial matter.” 

Tip #5 The way you think affects your performance and attitude. Find reasons and keep them in mind while writing. 

So yeah, writing might be boring, but it is extremely helpful. I wish schools had a rule where teachers must draw analogies between school assignments and real life. 

[mortedeveles]

Boundaries. [POC Week]

Summary: You’ve learned to ignore and push past racist comments your entire life, but when they come from a girl who’s hell-bent on destroying you and stealing your boyfriend, they cut wounds that are far deeper than any others you’ve suffered. 

Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi x gn!mexican!reader

(I tried to make reader as gn! as possible, but may lean on fem!reader tendencies, I apologize.) 

Themes: hurt comfort, bit of angst and some body worshipping, bit steamy but not NSFW. [ONE SHOT] [POC WEEK]

TW: racism, verbal insults, suggestive content, harassment, slight cursing and self esteem issues.

(Reader is brown- dark skinned Mexican!) I’m well aware that not all Mexicans have dark skin, and before you make assumptions, I’m Mexican and this one-shot is directed to my fellow brown-dark skinned mexicans :)

a/n: this writing piece is part of the writing event POC WEEK! please check out the other works HERE! pls give my fellow writers & friends as much love as possible <33 

-translations are at the end of the one-shot! 

as always, please leave a like, reblog, follow and/or comment if you enjoyed! the feedback is greatly appreciated <3 

(banner is made by ME! please do NOT repost or use without my permission (:)

Being a U.A. student was stressful; no matter what course you were in. There was something about having constant villain attacks and the school having a reputation throughout the entire country that made your hair stand up. 

But today seemed to be working in your favor, you had submitted all your assignments on time and received good grades, spent a great amount of time with your friends and your school day had been great so far. You hadn't talked much to your boyfriend Shinsou Hitoshi during the entire day, but it didn't bother you. He had errands to attend and so did you.

Your light-hearted mood changed when you stepped into your classroom, chattering with your friends. But as your eyes drifted to your seat, you froze. One of the most popular girls in your course was sitting on your desk, observing her nails carelessly. Her legs swung back and forward and they reminded you of a clock; tick-tock, tick-tock. All your instincts told you to run and avoid her for weeks; the girl wasn't known for being particularly nice with you.

 You tended to avoid her since she always had plenty of... comments on your skin and nationality. But unfortunately, it was a matter of time before you had to confront her, you couldn't avoid going to your desk for the rest of your life, even if you wanted to. 

When you walked to your desk, she raised her head and smiled at you. 

''Hey there, Y/N!'' her eyes swept behind you as if waiting for someone else. ''Have you seen Shinsou lately?'' 

Maldita perra, you gritted your teeth. You weren't dumb; you noticed the lingering gazes she gave your boyfriend. And the way she would squeeze his arm whenever he was around. Her... affection wasn't too often before, but when you started dating Hitoshi, they increased, much to your annoyance. 

''I haven't seen him all day,'' you kept your voice as composed and neutral as possible. She shrugged carelessly. 

''Y'know, Shinsou may have a... creepy quirk,'' the brunette eyed you with a devious grin. 

You clenched your fists. Being Shinsou's partner, you learned about his past; bullying due to his quirk had done a number on him, and you hated people who nitpicked at him for his quirk. 

''But his appearance sure isn't bad. Say, Y/N,'' she leaned forward on your desk, a pretty smile on her pretty pink lips. Anger and envy bubbled in your stomach. Who did she think she was? 

''Is he single?''

With a tired sigh, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest. The chattering of your classmates grew fainter and fainter and all you could focus on was the rude brunette. This conversation wasn't going to end well, you could feel it. 

''Why would I know?'' You bit back, anger blazing in your eyes. ''It's not like I'm his girlfriend or anything.'' 

Her eyes widened but she merely smirked.

 ''Oops!'' Her petite hand covered her lips deviously. ''My bad, I forgot you were his girlfriend.'' Her judgmental gaze raked over your skin. The barriers and shields of protection you surrounded yourself at a young age began to chip away, her devious words and smiles creating abysses and scars. Your facade faltered for a second.

You willed the raging anger within your chest to settle for a couple of seconds. Don’t fall into her traps, you thought. Don’t act like she expects you to be; aggressive and dangerous. 

''You know what I mean, right?'' The fake smile on her face was so sickly and poisonous you felt your stomach churn and twist. She breathed nothing but poison and hate. ''I always forget you're his girlfriend 'cause you know what they say about Hispanics, don't you sweetie? Especially Mexicans like you.'' Her pale white fingers trailed on your arm. They sent goosebumps down your spine.

''All they're good for is for being our donkeys and cargo. Born stupid and sturdy to carry our weight.'' 

The screeching of your chair made the entire class freeze. Your shoulders trembled and you swallowed the heavy lump in your throat. Calm down, you told yourself. This is what she wants. To provoke you. Don't listen to her, you know better than to listen to what others say.

Your blood boiled as you glared at her smiling face, skin soft and white as snow. Yours was darker. The mere comparison made hundreds of insecure thoughts race in your mind. Why wasn’t your skin…lighter?

''Are you okay, Y/N?'' She asked. 

The classroom murmured and you felt several pairs of eyes on you; judging you. One wrong move and they would be all over you. 

''Just peachy,'' you murmured. Brushing past her, you stormed out of the classroom. Thankfully, your teacher had been pulled away due to some school business and wasn't in the classroom so you had no qualms about leaving. 

You felt your chest ache and bile rose to your throat as you walked away from the classroom and closer to the restrooms. The restrooms were empty and you quickly locked yourself in one of the stalls, leaning on the door with closed eyes.

Her words were sharp little knives that drove straight into your heart; twisting and digging deeply. Your heart stuttered and spluttered blood; a painful ache spreading over your chest. 

Tears formed in your eyes and you wiped them away with a sniffle. 

''Es una pendeja,'' you murmured as you stared at your palms. ''No desperdicies tu tiempo en ella.'' You wondered if you'd be more pretty if your skin was a lighter color. Or if your mother tongue had been English or Japanese instead of Spanish. 

You tried to keep your voice firm and confident, but it sounded wobbly and weak in your ears. Beautiful, you're beautiful, no importa tu color de piel. You tried to drill those words into your head but with each time you repeated them, it seemed that they began to lose their importance. 

You wished Shinsou was here. 

                                           ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The soft breeze of air that swept past your face made you smile. Shinsou’s familiar scent wrapped around like a blanket as you stepped inside his dorm room and closed the door. The purple-haired boy was sitting at his desk, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He raised his head and smiled when he spotted you.

''Hey,'' you said softly and pecked Shinsou on the cheek. He smiled softly and wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. 

The early events of earlier lingered in your mind, but being with Shinsou swept them away like the dust that's swept away by the harsh wind. 

''Welcome back, cutie.'' You snorted at his comment. 

''Where have you been?'' You murmured sleepily as you wrapped your arms around his back, inhaling his warm and familiar scent. It was a combination of peppermint and fresh leaves. 

‘’I’ve been busy…’’ He sighed. ‘’There’s some assignments and errands I have to complete.’’ You sighed but nodded in understanding.

‘’I missed you today.’’ Shinsou frowned and pressed a kiss on the top of your head.

‘’I’m sorry, gorgeous. I’ll make it up to you today.’’ The endearment made you sigh. You frowned at looked down at your palms.

''...Toshi?''

''Yes, kitten?'' 

''Do you think I'm....'' you averted your eyes to your arms. ''Ugly?''

Hitoshi straightened up at your words. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and your heart dropped to your stomach, regretting your words. 

''Of course not, sweetheart,'' he pulled you into his lap and wrapped his arms around you. ''You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Why...who told you that?''

''No one,'' you responded quickly- a little bit too fast and Shinsou noticed.

His eyes narrowed and his grip tightened. You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, hoping it would distract him from the topic. It worked for you, being in his arms made you feel like Shinsou brought heaven down to Earth just for you. Bliss.

''Kitten,'' he nudged your side and you mumbled in protest. ''Can you tell me who told you that?''

''No one..'' you groaned and buried your face in his chest. 

''Babe,'' his voice hardened and you swallowed nervously. ''Look at me.'' 

You pouted and instead, buried your nose in his shirt, inhaling his musky perfume. Your boyfriend sighed and his gangly fingers grabbed your chin and forced you to look at his deep purple eyes. You frowned.

''Kitten,'' you began to play with your fingers. ''Who told you that?''

Sighing in defeat, you dropped your hands on your lap. 

''The girl in our homeroom...the brunette who's pretty and always flirts with you?''

Hitoshi furrowed his eyebrows. ''Who?''

Your jaw slackened. Did your boyfriend, Hitoshi Shinsou, not know who one of the prettiest (and rudest) girls in your class was?

''Sweetheart, you know I've been busy lately with some business, I really don’t know who you’re talking about...'' he sighed at the look you gave him. ''No, I can't tell you. M' sorry, I promise I'll tell you what it is, but I can't right now.''

You huffed and crossed your arms, deciding to stare at his shirt than his face.

''Y/N?'' he murmured, his long and warm hands rubbing your back. You sighed in relief and leaned into his chest but refused to acknowledge his words.

''Y/N...'' he sighed and buried his face in the crook of your neck. His warm breath made you shiver.

''Please tell me what's going on.''

Your lower lip wobbled. The tension and frustration that had been building up inside of you began to sway, ready to fall and flood your body in a matter of seconds.

''I just don't understand,'' you nearly cried out. Your trembling hands fisted his shirt.

''I've been as nice and competitive as possible, I've been doing my best to prove that I'm as good and valuable as anyone else here!'' your heart stuttered with each word. 

''But that's not enough for them,'' a sniffle escaped your leaking nose. ''Because I'll never be enough because I was just born unlucky, my skin is darker than hers and I'll never be enough, not even for you-,'' you hiccuped and clenched your fists. 

Each word that left your lips was saturated with pain and frustration. Shoulders trembling furiously. You didn't notice how the purple-haired boy's jaw clenched and how anger and confusion took over his face, before quickly returning into an understanding and warm look. The face you needed at the time. 

''Hey, hey,'' Shinsou whispered in your ear and for a moment, you relaxed, his words honey to your ears. His arms tightened around you as he pulled you into a tight and fierce hug.

''Let it out, sweetheart,'' he pressed a kiss on your cheek. ''I'm here for you, I'm listening.'' 

His words were fuel to your tears- not in the way that they made your heart ache- but his support and company left you breathless. You were sure that you had dampened Shinsou's shirt with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind. He was focused only on you.

''That's it,'' he murmured, softly brushing away your tears with his thumbs. Your eyes and lips were swollen from crying, with tear-stained cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, but he still looked at you as if you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. It made your heart flutter.

''I-I think I'm okay now,'' you murmured, throat scratchy and raw. Your boyfriend nodded in approval and pressed a kiss on your forehead. 

''Y/N L/N,'' his voice shifted to a serious tone, catching you off guard. ''I want you to listen to me very carefully, okay?'' You nodded numbly in response.

Hitoshi's heavy hands held your wrists in a gentle grip, brushing his thumb across your skin. It was a soothing gesture. 

''I love you, Y/N. I love you regardless of where you're from, what you've been through. I love you for you. With everything that comes with you; your culture, your language. You. I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen and..'' his voice trailed off. The boy laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. 

''The first time I saw you, I thought you were an angel.'' 

Your face flooded with warmth and you squirmed in his lap. He let out a warm and lively laugh. 

''Don't listen to what they say, okay?'' his voice lowered to the soft and gentle tone you loved. ''They're jealous and don't understand how beautiful you are, how important and valuable you are. Those idiots...'' his grip tightened. 

''They don't understand what respect and tolerance are.''

You scoffed and wiped your nose with a tissue that your boyfriend handed to you.

''No shit,'' you grumbled.

''Who was it?'' Shinsou hummed. He kept his voice as passive and calm as possible, but even you noticed his restlessness.

''It's not worth it, 'Toshi,'' you sighed and pressed a hand on his chest. Confusion swept through you when you felt his chest and abdomen far more toned and muscled than before. But before you could raise a question about the topic, Shinsou quickly pressed a kiss on your lips, his hands rubbing at the back of your neck. 

''It's for you, Y/N,'' he pressed your forehead against his. Staring into his purple-indigo eyes was always an intense experience. ''Of course, it's worth it. Besides, if no one speaks up about it, who knows who else will suffer from their harassment? We have to put a stop to it.'' 

You giggled at the thought of your boyfriend beating up or shouting ruthlessly at the brunette, when you knew he was probably one of the least athletic or temperamental people ever. 

Since both of you were General Studies students at U.A, physical condition and combat abilities weren't your priority. And from your years of knowing Shinsou, harsh and intimidating weren't the words you'd use to describe him. 

''Sure thing, 'Toshi,'' he hummed in response. ''I think I'll speak to her tomorrow and report her to the teacher as well.'' 

Your boyfriend grinned. ''That's a good idea. Now that it's been solved,'' you felt your face grow warm as his hand trailed to your thigh. ''Why don't I give you a demonstration of how beautiful you are?''

A smug smirk took over your lips. ''Sure thing, love.'' His grin grew wider and you squealed in surprise as he pushed you on the bed, his thighs pushing yours apart. His body loomed over yours and you bit your lip in excitement. 

''I won't stop until you understand,'' he pressed a kiss on your forehead. ''How beautiful,'' and another one on your nose. ''You are,'' two kisses for each of your cheeks. ''Y/N.'' and one, long and heart-consuming kiss on your lips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, hands sliding to his wild purple hair. He hummed in content, hands wandering to your torso before settling on your neck. 

''Toshi...'' you said breathlessly as he began to lick and bite softly at your neck. You closed your eyes in delight, ignoring the fact that you'd probably show up with hickeys at school tomorrow; it was the least of your concerns.

''Do you want me to stop, kitten?'' his lips left your neck. ''I know we haven't done anything more than kissing, so we can stop if you want.''

You swallowed and shook your head. ''No...I um,'' you averted your gaze. ''I don't think I want to, you-know-what yet,'' he snickered. ''But I think I'd like to go a little farther with you.'' 

He smiled softly and it was until then that you noticed how quick he moved. His chin rested on your abdomen, hands squeezing your sides. ''I'll go as far as you let me.'' 

And with that, Shinsou continued his trail of kisses on your body. He descended from your neck and took off your cardigan and froze for a moment, waiting for your confirmation, which you gave with a nod.

His hands traveled your body and before you knew it, you were shirtless, exposed to your boyfriend's eyes. He breathed heavily. 

''God...'' you felt your core burn with desire as his face lowered to lick and kiss at your lower abdomen, all while keeping eye contact with you. ''You're so beautiful.''

Minutes or hours could've passed by, but all you could focus on was Shinsou's warm hands, the way he whispered sweet words to you, and the look of lust that clouded his eyes. And yet, he stayed true to his words and didn't let his hands wander to places you weren't ready to explore yet. 

And before you knew it, you were staring down at Shinsou, who had his head between your legs. One of his hands squeezed your thigh while his mouth licked and bit at your other inner thigh. The sight made you swoon. 

‘’Mmm, Toshi…’’

                                                ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘ 

You ended the night in his arms, body littered with soft love marks and hickeys. They made you feel warm and content, marked, and wanted. Knowing that Shinsou wanted you this way filled you with pride. 

His heavy arm was draped over your side as the two of you laid in his bed in silence. You hadn't said a word in a while but kept thinking about several things, the gears moving in your head and it seemed that your boyfriend noticed.

''What are you thinking about, sweetheart?'' he murmured. You smiled and pressed a kiss on his lips. Hitoshi smiled sleepily.

''Just thinking how lucky I am to have you,'' you shifted closer to him. With the moonlight seeping into the dorm and your face only an inch or two away from his, you could see the entire galaxy swirl in his eyes. It was a beautiful and mesmerizing sight.

''Oh yeah?'' he pinched your nose and you laughed. ''I think I'm the lucky one here. Never thought that an angel like you would be mine.'' 

''I'm no angel, don't be so dramatic,'' you giggled. Shinsou grinned teasingly and kissed you. 

''I'm not being dramatic, sweetheart, just honest.'' 

You smiled fondly at him and he smiled back. His legs were tangled with yours as you stared into each other's eyes. 

''Hm...'Toshi?'' you propped your head on your hand to get a better look at him. The moonlight shone on his face, giving him an air of etherealness. 

''Yes, kitten?'' he grabbed your hand and slipped it into his.  You squeezed his hand. 

''I love you.''

''I love you more, Y/N.'' 

translations;

Maldita perra - Fucking bitch.

‘‘Es una pendeja, no desperdicies tu tiempo en ella.’‘ - ‘‘She’s an idiot, don’t waste your time on her.’‘

No importa tu color de piel. - Your skin color doesn’t matter. 

this one is late but- taglist: @lonelyfangirl453​ @thatgoth-bitch​ 

[p-and-p-admin]

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.  (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello Oracle Obscured and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for letting us get to know you a little better.

Many readers will know you already and if they don’t I encourage them to look your works up including Teaching Miss Granger and How I learned to love teachers’ meetings

Okay, let’s jump right in.

What's the story behind your pen name?

Hmmm ... that’s kind of a weird answer for me. I wanted to choose a name that didn’t immediately indicate whether I was male or female. I’d noticed a certain freedom afforded to authors of indistinguishable gender. With no societal construct about the “nature” of the creator, the story stood on its own, without prejudice or conditioned expectations.

I brainstormed about six or seven names and then picked the one that appealed to me most. I’ve always felt drawn to the idea of oracles (those who see beyond). And I definitely felt obscured in that department. (Hell, at the time, my whole life felt obscured.)

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

I don’t know if I do. I guess if I had to pick, I’d say Hermione, as I have a tendency to be an obsessive perfectionist when it comes to work/studying. I like to be organized and plan things out. And I can be quite demanding and harsh with myself when I feel like I’m not measuring up to my own insane ideals.

But I took that openpsychometrics.org statistical quiz a while back, where you answer like a bazillion comparison questions (I did the longer version), and my highest HP match was Remus Lupin (83%). Yeah, I can see that.

Luna is my favorite character, but I don’t know if I identify with her more than anyone else.

Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general)

It used to be horror/suspense, but ... I don’t know ... I’m just not as into it anymore. Maybe it’s because the real world is horrifying enough without adding fictional monsters to the mix.

Now I mostly read classics.

Do you have a favourite "classic" novel?

To Kill a Mockingbird.

At what age did you start writing?

Just writing stories in general? Maybe second grade. It wasn’t a passion or anything, just something I was pretty good at. I only really did it at school, though, not so much at home. I read A LOT growing up, so I naturally imagined that I might be an author one day. I tried to write a book when I was about 13 or 14, but less than one chapter in, I decided it was too hard. (I was NOT a Hermione growing up. Planning and perseverance were not my style.)

I took a massive break from thinking after high school (the smorgasbord of medications I was on didn’t like me using my brain too much, and my plans for college went out the window when my depression become unmanageable). I didn’t really start writing again until I was about twenty-seven. That was when I found fanfiction. I consider that when I really started writing.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I found fanfiction while looking for erotica. Needless to say I discovered the motherlode, and I was hooked. Over the years, I’d written bits and pieces of my own sexy scenarios (which is what you do when you grow up without the internet and you have to depend on your imagination for all your kink requirements), but I’d never really thought about taking someone else’s “story world” and using it as my setting. For a little over a year I read/devoured all the HP fanfiction I could, and then I realized I could take all the fantasies in my head and play them out with my favorite characters.

The first story I wrote was a funny/smutty Ginny/Draco thing, and it was HORRIBLE. The story and the sex were fine, but the writing was a nightmare. I submitted it to The Restricted Section, which was the only site I knew at the time, and they vetted their stories, so I had to get approved. They wrote me back saying it needed work and I should get a beta. So I went on the forum and found one (which was rather brave of me now that I think back). The person who helped me must’ve had the patience of a saint, because he/she(?) never said a damn thing about all the mistakes and shitty-ness. Suggestions and corrections were made, and I changed some of the pronouns to names so it wouldn’t sound so repetitive. The next time I submitted it, they accepted, and I got a decent response for a first-time writer (like three or four nice reviews). No one seemed to hate it, and the reviewers said the sex was hot, so I tried again, hoping to do better.

That’s when I wrote the first chapter of Teaching Miss Granger. It started out as just a oneshot. And it got a much better response. I wanted to write more, but I became extremely depressed and lethargic, and I didn’t really do anything for the next six or seven years. (I mean nothing. Unless you consider watching every episode of Law & Order CI and SVU ten times over to be an accomplishment.)

I came back to it years later, intending to add a few chapters to TMG where they have sex, but ... it just sort of evolved into the monster that it is. I worked on it pretty much every day for about a year. I’d never stuck with ANYTHING that long in my entire life.

What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?

I would say love or “the power of love” is probably my favorite theme. But that includes synonyms for love as well. (Like wholeness, which is the theme of Quartet.)

What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?

None. I like other fandoms, but I don’t write for them, and I don’t usually read their fanfiction.

If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?

I’ve never really thought about changing cannon. I mean, I change it to suit my fictional purposes (like Snape lives etc.), but I wouldn’t want to change canon for real. The deaths in HP serve a purpose, and while I find many of those deaths heartbreaking, that’s kind of the point. Hatred is bleak and destructive, and good people don’t survive wars simply because they’re good; bad things happen to good people all the time. As for changing something about the individual characters, I can’t get behind that either. The reasons people do things are multifaceted and complex and they’re colored by a lifetime of experiences I will never know or understand, so I don’t feel I can really judge. I can’t say I understand all the choices I’ve made in my own life, and there’ve been plenty of times where I had no choice at all. I can’t hold others to more rigorous standards than I myself can meet. We all have our shortcomings. (And that’s cool. Without them, there would be no growth or diversity.)

Do I have a favorite piece of fanon? Hmmm ... probably Head Boy and Head girl rooming together or having private rooms.

Oh! And uniforms.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?

I used to listen to really quiet classical music while wearing headphones. Every little sound in the house distracts me, and I have to block it out. But lately I’ve just been running this old box fan that drowns out the noise.

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

Crap, I don’t know if I can choose. (Plus I feel like I’ve forgotten a lot of what I’ve read.)

My friend Desert Sea is my fav Hermione/Severus writer. Out of her stories, the ones I like best are In Their Hands and At the Headmaster’s Discretion.

After a brief search of my accounts, I’ll go with:

Do Not Go Gentle by senlinyu

Another Dream by dragoon811

The Last Twenty-Four Hours of Severus Snape by CryingCinderella

Pretty much everything by Aurette

Pet Project by Caeria

Post Tenebras, Lux by Loten

All the SS/HG stuff from snapeslittleblackbuttons

There’s a Teddy Radiator story that I like a lot, but I can’t remember the name of it. (Or what it’s about.) (Yes, very helpful, I know.)

And in a category all it’s own is Farmer Granger and the Most Glorious Cock by MyWitch. (Seriously, I read this like once a month and it makes me laugh every time.)

I read a lot of Drarry too. Drarry stories I love:

Everything by bixgrl1, but especially Balance Imperfect and In Evidence of Magical Theory

Everything by lq_traintracks (even the non-Drarry stuff). The writing is amazing.

I love all the advent stories by Saras_girl.

I like all the Drarry stories I’ve read by Faithwood.

I really like RZZMG’s writing. (No particular story or pairing.)

And I just rediscovered a story I found in 2007 (the first m/m fic I ever read). It’s a Snarry, which I know isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but it was excellent. Snape: the Home Fries Nazi by pir8fancier

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I enjoy a bit of both. My oneshots are all pantsed. TMG was totally pantsed. But Getting Personal and Quartet were both plotted and planned. For GP I did sort of a chapter by chapter synopsis before starting my rough draft, and for Q I went into even more detail—EVERYTHING was planned out ahead of time. The only thing that changed during the first draft was I ended up combining some of the chapters.

How does plotting affect my writing process compared to pantsing? It streamlines it. In a oneshot there’s not much to streamline; the basic story (or general idea) is all you really need. There’s not enough story to get muddled. But when I’m writing something longer, with multiple chapters, I find it’s better to know where the story is going. How deeply I go into that planning can vary. Sometimes there’s just a basic outline of the major plot points and then I fly by the seat of my pants from there. Sometimes I write out a very rough synopsis (sort of like a short and loose first draft) and then start writing as if it’s my second draft. Things inevitably get changed once I really start writing, so the planning isn’t set in stone by any means, but when I plan, the story goes in the general direction I intend without veering too far off course and there aren’t any plot holes. After I wrote TMG (with no planning) I saw that there was A LOT I could have cut or combined without affecting anything important. I learned a little more with each story I wrote, and when I got to Q, there was a lot of complicated ideas that I wanted to incorporate, and there were so many characters (and character arcs) going on that I had to plan extensively to make sure everything fit together. If I hadn’t worked it out ahead of time, it would’ve been like throwing a heap of puzzle pieces on the table but not being given a reference picture to know what it was I was working toward.

What is your writing genre of choice?

I have no idea. Plotty sex? Erotic dramady? Some of it is just straight up PWP, but I usually like to have something meaningful in there too.

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

Usually the answer is whatever I’ve most recently written, as it’s the most likely to represent my current “best.” In terms of writing, I’ll go with A Brush with Magic, but Quartet is probably my best storytelling. A lot went into that (symbolism, planning, obsessive re-writes) and it holds a good deal of personal meaning to me. So, I guess I’ll go with Q due to the time and effort involved.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

The unexpected always crops up (even with all my planning), and it’s the unexpected that makes the magic.

While I had many insights into my own nature while writing Quartet, in the end I think it taught me to trust/listen to myself more.

Later, however, it brought me a very different message. While writing it, I felt a lot of tension and anxiety; I wanted to “do it right” and present my story in the best light. But after some time away, I realized I’d been so worried because I felt as if that story represented me, as if it defined me. And the pressure of being judged worthy or unworthy had been eating me alive.

But I don’t feel that way anymore. Now it’s like I wrote all my stories in another lifetime. While they all might be a snapshot of a fraction of my mind, nothing I create ever says a damn thing about who or what I truly am. Since letting go of that, I’ve found a sense of freedom around writing. I still like to express things as clearly and beautifully as I can, but it’s more a celebration of words than a search for acceptance.

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

Quartet was extremely personal to me when I wrote it, and in a lot of ways I think that made it easier to write. When I have to go strictly by imagination, I feel as if I’m missing some depth of understanding (like I’m getting the surface-level stuff, but missing the nuance). When I write from experience, it has an entirely different quality. Richer. More intimate. It’s work to write what I don’t know, but it’s easy to write the truth.

Posting, however, is an entirely different story. Other people don’t always want the truth, and if you feel like your story is an extension of you, it can hurt to have any part of it rejected.

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

I think everything I’ve ever read or seen has influenced me. In terms of writing, I guess I’d say I’m inspired by beauty in all its forms. When I first started reading fanfiction, I just searched for the kinks I liked; it was all about the sex (with bonus points for having a decent plot). Then one day I read an extremely well-written PWP (I don’t remember what), and the way the author described the sex was so unlike anything I had ever read, it totally blew my mind. It was art. Exquisite art. And before that, I didn’t know sex could be art. That author didn’t just recount the characters’ actions, they painted a word masterpiece—they turned porn into poetry. THAT was what I wanted in my life. And I didn’t know it until that moment.

Books/authors that stick with me:

The Harry Potter series (obviously).

Shel Silverstein (Love the poetry, but The Giving Tree is one of my favorite books of all time.)

Dr. Seuss (Always.)

Judy Blume (I still have my copy of Are You There God it’s Me Margaret from when I was, like, 10. Tiger Eyes is my favorite of hers.)

R.L. Stine (I got hooked prior to the creation of the Goosebumps series, but I had EVERY Fear Street Book he wrote when I was in middle school.)

Weekend by Christopher Pike (This was the first YA thriller I ever read. *Sigh* memories. I still have my original copy, and I still read it every once in a while. The characters and plot are great.)

Stephen King (Carrie is my fav.)

Anne Rice (I’ve read all the vampire and witch books, but The Witching Hour is the only one I’ve read multiple times. Blackwood Farm is my next favorite.)

To Kill a Mockingbird

Charles Dickens (David Copperfield is my fav.)

Jane Austen (I can’t pick between Pride & Prejudice and Sense & Sensibility.)

Thomas Harris (Brilliant writing, and Hannibal might be one of the most intriguing anti-heros ever.)

Stieg Larsson (Another brilliant writer with a brilliant character.)

The Giver by Lois Lowry (I haven’t read the rest of the trilogy. And I haven’t seen the movie. I refuse to besmirch my childhood love with Hollywood’s interpretation.)

Bridge to Terabithia (This book devastated me as a child.)

Gillian Flynn (Sharp Objects is my fav.)

Liane Moriarty (I like all of her books, especially Big Little Lies. The way she plays with the timeline is masterful.)

Frank Herbert’s Dune. (I grew up on this. It’s my dad’s all-time favorite book. And, yes, we’re looking forward to the new movie.)

Margaret Atwood (The Handmaid’s Tale is horrifyingly wonderful. And Atwood herself is fascinating. Watch her Masterclass if you get the chance.)

Steinbeck’s East of Eden (This might be my second favorite book.)

The Lucifer Effect by Phillip Zimbardo (This isn’t fiction, but it was the first book that really affected the way I see the world.)

Eisler’s The Chalice and the Blade (Also not fiction. If you’re interested in the divine feminine and a more egalitarian society, this is the book for you.)

Loving What Is by Byron Katie (The only self-help book that’s ever actually helped me.)

Daphne Du Maurier (I love Rebecca, but she also has a story called “The Blue Lenses” that isn’t really intended to be scary, but it freaked me the fuck out.)

The Secret History by Donna Tartt (Gorgeous writing, and the plot left me seriously disturbed.)

One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest by Ken Kesey (Gah! I love this. The writing and the story and the characters and EVERYTHING!)

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (I Bradbury’s writing style, but the plot of F451 is pure horror for any book hoarder lover.)

The Lord of the Flies by William Golding (This might be my third favorite book ever. No, wait, I might like it better than East of Eden. I can’t choose!)

The Diary of Anne Frank (How in the hell could anyone read this and not be affected by it?)

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

No. This is my own private world, and I like it that way.

How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"?

Very. I write what I want to read. There are certain adjustments I make when I write for other people as opposed to what I do when writing strictly for myself, but nothing major. I refuse to write things I have no interest in, and I don’t write to make people happy. I write to please myself. (But it’s nice when what pleases me pleases others. It’s wonderful to share that connection.)

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

I like hearing from my readers. I don’t have a lot of time to interact, but I like talking to my audience and listening to their insights. I try to reply to all the comments I get on AO3 (it’s just too hard on FFN). And when I have free time (which isn’t often) I check my FB groups to see what’s going on. To me, the interaction kind of completes the creative cycle; it helps me set the story free and allow it to be. It really belongs to the reader once I’ve published, and it’s nice to see the ripples creativity creates.

What is the best advice you've received about writing?

Unless it’s absolutely necessary, stop using the word “was.” Completely changed my writing.

What do you do when you hit writer's block?

It doesn’t really happen that much, as I usually know where I’m going with my story, but there can be glitches between scenes or times when I can’t find the words for something (like ending a chapter). When that happens, I usually just leave it and come back later—I can’t force it if it won’t come.

If I really need to get it done for some reason, I read what I have over and over, adding a little bit more each time, trying out words that “sound right” and building what I need bit by bit. What I come up with isn’t always right or what I want, but at least I have something to work with. Sometimes seeing what’s wrong makes what you want more obvious.

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Yeah, just about everything Sex, depression, anxiety, personal growth, likes/dislikes, insights, interests, philosophy, all my little neuroses. Every once in a while I’ll even include some dialogue from real life.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

I’m juggling about five long stories right now (plus a couple oneshots). And I haven’t worked on any of them in ages. I don’t know what’s going on with me; I’m just not in the mood. I don’t want to say what they are, as I might never finish them. (Two are Drarry and three are Sevmione. One is a compilation of oneshots. Four of them are completely planned out and just need to be written. The unplanned Drarry was always just meant to be for myself and I doubt I’ll ever release it.)

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Yes. Enjoy the whole writing/creative process as much as possible. Try not to beat yourself up, and don’t try to force yourself to be better. You will naturally get better the more you write. Change is inevitable; allow it to happen. Read books about writing, and read good writers. Notice what brings you the most pleasure when you read and tap into that same pleasure when you write. Play with words and ideas just for fun. Watch and see what appears. There is no perfect.

If you’re writing about sex (because I get asked about that a lot), write what turns YOU on. Don’t try to be sexy. Don’t try to write what you think other people want to hear. Don’t worry about what other people think (at least in the first draft). If they don’t like it they can go read something else. But if YOU like it, it will shine through in your writing, and that will have a bigger impact on your reader than any activity you describe. Also, the physicality is only a fraction of the sexual experience. Don’t turn your sex scenes into a play-by-play. You’re not really writing about what the characters are doing so much as how what they’re doing affects them. It’s a personal experience, and the more personal you make it (the more honest and vulnerable you are as a writer) the more satisfying the story will be for your reader. Wise words! Thank-you so much for speaking with us today Oracle Obscured.

[for-your-therapeutic-smile]

They Never Teach You How to Stop

Rarely do I lack the words to express myself. Perhaps this reflects my failure to maintain my journal consistently throughout 2020. Here goes an honest attempt to capture and document my mental state and the fatigue of Covid, the inertia of this shelter-in-place, the anxiety of this political crisis we face as a nation, the pressure of being a 1L in law school against the backdrop of civil unrest and Justice Ginsburg’s death, coming out - my dad told me he was disappointed -, the possible erosion of my relationship with someone I love, and this feeling of absolute dread and resentment for a system that continuously fails my and future generations (robbing us of a social contract that promised life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness), among many other things I’m too tired to consider. When did we accept a $0 baseline as the American Dream? Oh, to be debt free - free from this punishment for having pursued an education. Stifling the educated to prevent them (myself included) from organizing and mobilizing the masses so we can supplant this system with a better one is the overall objective of the oppressive class (read: Pedagogy of the Oppressed); it’s the conflict between the bourgeois and the proletariat. The proletariat has swallowed the middle class, leaving only the ruling class. I am essentially on autopilot, forcing myself to go through the motions so I can survive another day. I know others join me in this mental gymnastics of unparalleled proportions, one social scientists and medical researchers will soon study and subsequently publish their findings in an attempt to explain the unexplainable. Despite a lack of air circulation, we are breathing history; the constitution, like our societal norms, must adapt accordingly. Judge Barrett: there is no place for originalism. While I seldom admit weakness or an inability to manage life’s curveballs, this series of unfortunate events seems almost too much to bear. 

And yet somehow I continue to find the energy to submit assignments due at 11:59 p.m., write this post at 1:38 a.m., “sleep”, wake at 7 a.m. so I can read and prepare (last minute!) the assigned material leading into my torts or contracts class. I find the energy to text my boyfriend (or ex-boyfriend) so I can attempt to salvage the real and genuine connection we have, cook elaborate meals to find some solace, wrestle with whether or not to hit my yoga mat (I don’t), apply to a fellowship for the school year and summer internships, prepare my dual citizenship paperwork, manage a campaign for two progressive politicians, and listen to music in an attempt to stay sane . . . ~*Queues John Mayer’s “War of My Life” and “Stop This Train”*~ . . . I realize I have to be kinder to myself, give credit where credit is due. I hate feeling self-congratulatory though.

Mostly, I am too afraid of the repercussions if I stop moving at a mile/minute, that I can just work away the pain and be the superhuman who numbs himself from the low-grade depression and nervous breakdown. My body tells me to slow down, as evidenced by the grinding of my teeth, but I take on more responsibility because people rely on me. I must show up. I am a masochist in that way. This is what I signed up for and I’ll be damned if I don’t carry through on my promise to do the work. Pieces of my soul scattered about like Horcruxes, though they’re pure, not evil, so I hope nobody resolves to destroy them. 

My mind rarely rests. It’s 3:08 a.m., one of the lonelier hours where night meets morning; it’s the hour for and of intense introspection. It makes you consider pulling an all-nighter, one you reserve for an “important” school or work deadline. We always put our personal lives on the back-burner. 3 a.m. sets the tone for a potentially awful day. But that doesn’t matter right now. I’m letting some of my favorite albums play in the background: Joni Mitchell’s Blue, Mac Miller’s Circles, Rhye’s Blood, Alicia Keys’ ALICIA, Coldplay’s Ghost Stories, Frank Ocean’s Blonde, Miley Cyrus’ Dead Petz in addition to other playlists, Tiny Desk performances, and tracks (I unearthed last week, like When It’s Over by Sugar Ray). I need to feel something. I need to feel anything. I need to feel everything. We experience such a broad spectrum of emotions throughout the day that we lose track of if we don’t pause to absorb them. Music reinforces empathy; it releases dopamine.

I spent the past two hours reading through old journals and posts, as scattered as they were, on a wide range of topics: poems I had written about falling in and out love, anecdotes about my world travels, and entries on personal, political, and professional epiphanies. The other night I found one of my favorites, a previous post from my time living in Indonesia, centering on the dualities of technology. It resonated with me more than the others. To summarize, I wrote about my tendency to equate the Internet with a sense of interconnectedness (shoutout to Tumblr for being my digital journal; to Twitter for being a place of comedy and revolution; to Instagram for curating my *aesthetic*; to Facebook where I track my family’s accomplishments and connect with travel buddies displaced around the globe all searching for a home). And yet I feel incredibly lonely and disconnected whenever I spend too much time using technology, so much so that I set screen time limitations on my phone recently to curtail this obsession with constant communication and information gathering. Trump and Biden admitted that it’s unlikely we’ll know the results of the election on November 3rd during their first presidential debate. Push notifications don’t allow us to learn of trauma within the comforts of our own homes. I’m already fearing where I will be when that news breaks. 

This global pandemic and indefinite shutdown of the world (economy) undeniably exacerbates these feelings. This is some personal and collective turmoil. But I was complicit in the endless scrolling and swiping of faces and places long before Covid-19. Instead of choosing to interact with my direct environment (today’s research links this behavior to the same levels of depression one feels when they play slot machines), I am still an active on all these platforms, participating the least in the most tangible one: my physical life. I am tired of pretending. I am tired of being tired. I am tired of embodying fake energy to exist in systems that fail me. I am tired of the quagmire. Like Anaïs Nin, I must be a mermaid [because] I have no fear of depths and a great fear of shallow living. This particular excerpt from that 2016 entry was difficult for me to read: “The fantasy of what could have been if a certain plan had unfolded will haunt you forever if you do not come to peace with the reality of the situation. I hope you come to terms with reality.” I am not at peace with my current reality. But is anyone?

It’s a bit surreal for my peers to have suddenly started caring about international relations theory. It’s transported me back to my 2012 IR lecture at Northeastern: are you a constructivist or a feminist? Realist or liberalist? Neo? Marxist? The one no one wants you to talk about. Absent upward mobility, this is class warfare. But I cannot be “a singular expression of myself . . . there are too many parts, too many spaces, too many manifestations, too many lines, too many curves, too many troubles, too many journeys, too many mountains, too many rivers” . . . It feels like America’s wake-up call. But I know people will retreat into the comforts of capitalism if Biden wins and, well, we all enter uncharted waters together if the Electoral College re-elects #45. For those who weren’t paying attention: the world is multipolar and we are not the hegemon. Norms matter. People tend to be self-interested and shortsighted. Look to the past in order to understand the future. History, as the old adage goes, repeats itself. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Taxation without representation. Indoctrination. Welcome to the language of political discourse. Students of IR and polisci have long awaited your participation. Too little too late? Plot twist: it’s a lifelong commitment. You must continue to engage irrespective of the election outcome or else we will regress just as quickly as we progress. Now dive into international human rights treaties (International Covenant on Civil & Political Rights; International Covenant on Economic, Social, and Cultural Rights), political refugees, FGM. No one said it wasn’t dismal. But it’s important. We need buy-in.  

While I am grateful for the continuation of my education, for this extended time with family, for this opportunity to be a campaign manager for two local progressive candidates (driving to Boston to pick up revised yard signs as proof that the work never stops), it would be remiss of me, however, not to admit that I am lonely: I am buried in my books, in the depressing news both nationally and globally, and in precedent-setting Supreme Court cases (sometimes for the worst, e.g. against the preservation of our environment). In my nonexistent free time I work on political asylum cases, essentially creating an enforceability framework of international law, for people fleeing country conditions so unthinkable (the irony of that work when my country falls greater into authoritarianism and oligarchy is not lost on me). I am fulfilling my dream of becoming a human rights lawyer which stems back to middle school. I saw Things I Imagined (thank you Solange). I have held an original copy of the Declaration of Independence that we sent to the House of Lords in 1778 and the Human Rights Act of 1998 while visiting the U.K. Parliamentary Archives as an intern for a Member of Parliament. This success terrifies and exhausts me; it also oxygenizes and saves me. Every decision, every sacrifice, has led me to this point. 

“It’s the choosing that’s important, isn’t it?,” Lois Lowry of The Giver rhetorically asks. This post is not intended to be woe is me! I am fortunate to be in this position, to have this vantage point at such an early age, and I understand the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. My life has purpose. I am committed to the work that transcends boundaries; it is larger than life itself. It provides a unique perspective. But it makes it difficult to coexist with people so preoccupied in the drama they create in their lives and the general shallowness of the world we live. It feels like there is no option to pump the brakes on any of this work, especially in light of our current climate, and that pressure oftentimes feels insurmountable. Time is of the essence. It feels, whether true or not, that hardly anyone relates to my experience, so if I don’t carve out this time to write about it, then I am neither recording nor processing it. 

Tonight, in between preparing tomorrow’s coursework, I realize that I have an unprecedented number of questions about life, which startles me because typically I have the answers or at least have a goal in mind that launches me into the next phase of life or contextualizes the current one. These goals, often rooted in this capitalistic framework, in this falsity of “needing” to advance my career as a means of helping people, distract me from asking myself the existential questions, the reasons for why we live and what we fundamentally want our systems to look like; they have distracted me from real grassroots community organizing until now. They distract me from the fact that, like John Mayer, I don’t know which walls to smash; similarly, I don’t know which train to board. Right now feels like we are living through impossible and hopeless times and I don’t want to placate myself into thinking otherwise despite my relatively optimistic outlook on life. As we face catastrophic circumstances – the consequences of this election and climate change (famine, refugees, lack of resources) – I do not want to live in perpetual sadness. I am searching for clarity and direction so I can step into a better, fuller version of myself. 

It’s now 3:33 a.m. Here is the list of questions that I have often asked myself in different stages of life, but recently, until now, I have not been willing to confront for fear that I might not be able to answers them. But I owe it to myself to pose them here so I can have the overdue conversation, the one I know leads me to better understanding myself:

Are you happy? Why or why not?

What do you want the future to hold? What groundwork are you going to do to ensure it happens?

What does your ideal day/week/month/year/decade look like? Why?

With whom do you want to spend your days? Why?

Who do you love and care about? Have you told people you care about that you love them? Does love and vulnerability scare you?

What do you expect of people – of yourself, of your partner, of your family, and of your friends? Should you have those expectations? Why or why not?

What do you feel and why?

What relaxes you? What scares you? What brings you joy?

What do you want to improve? Why?

What do you want to forgive yourself for and why?

Does the desire to reinvent yourself diminish your ability to be present?

Do you have a greater fear of failure or success? Why?

How do you escape the confines of this broken system? How do you break from the guilt of participation in it and having benefited from it?

How do we reconcile our daily lives with the fact that we’re living through an extinction event? This one comes from my friend (hi Jeanne) and a podcast she listened to recently.

How do you help people? How do you help yourself? Are you pouring from an empty cup?

How will you find joy in your everyday responsibilities, in the mission you have chosen for yourself? What, if any, will be the warning signs to walk away from this work, in part or in its entirety? Without being a martyr, do you believe in dying for the cause?

So here are some of the lessons I have learned during this quarantine/past year:

“I’ve Got Dreams to Remember,” so do not take your eyes off them. Chasing paper does not bring you happiness.

Be autonomous, particularly in your professional life.

Focus on values instead of accolades.

Do everything with intention and honest energy.

Listen to Tracy Chapman’s “Crossroads” & Talkin’ Bout a Revolution for an energy boost and reminder that other revolutionaries have shared and continue to share your fervent passion . . . “I’m trying to protect what I keep inside, all the reasons why I live my life” . . . When self-doubt nearly cripples you and you yearn a few minutes to run away when in reality you can’t escape your responsibilities, go for a drive and queue up “Fast Car” . . . “I got no plans, I ain’t going nowhere, so take your fast car and keep on driving.”

With that said, take every opportunity to travel (you can take the work with you if absolutely necessary). Go to Italy. Buy the concert ticket and lose yourself in the moment. Remember that solo excursions are equally as important as collective ones. But, from personal experience, you prefer the company. Find the balance.

Detach from the numbers people keep trying to assign to measure your personhood.

Closely examine the people in your inner circle and ask them for help when you need it.

“And life is just too short to keep playing the game . . . because if you really want somebody [or something], you’ll figure it out later, or else you will just spend the rest of the night with a BlackBerry on your chest hoping it goes *vibration, vibration*” (John Mayer’s Edge of Desire) . . . so love fiercely and unapologetically.

Be specific.

Go to therapy even when life is good.

[miss-pearlescent]

LIFE UPDATE (lol)

Hello, this is going to be a long-winded life update because I simply want to just talk about things that have been going on and why I don’t update on a consistent basis :)

One of the reasons is above! Last week (two weeks ago??) I covered Naughty with a friend! Please check it out :D Honestly, this didn’t take away from my writing at all because I do random covers all the time, but I just want the views lmao HUMOUR ME! (I’m the one in white). Oh, and please don’t comment anything about my writing/fanfiction/tumblr on that video! I keep this blog pretty private.

Anyway, what did take away from my writing is A WRITING COURSE! Can you believe :) the :) irony :) I signed up for this writing course because I’ve always really wanted to publish a book aka basically give birth. As a teenager, I followed a few YA authors like they were gods, and when I attended signings, I was starstruck! I’d be like, “Girl, your mind!” So there I was, looking up how to publish a goddamn book and realizing that there were so many things to it other than just writing. It was discouraging to say the least! Then two years ago, I mentioned my hobby to my therapist and she suggested taking a writing course.

She (bless her heart) even searched up local colleges for me and opened my eyes to the fact that educational institutions held entire courses dedicated to romance writing. Wow. Of course, I rejected her idea because of the kind of person I am.

I’m kidding.

I’m not.

LOL ok so I was like “I don’t want to take a writing course because I don’t want people to judge my writing and tell me to write romance a certain way or else it doesn’t feel organic. And what if I lose my interest in it? Then what will I do with my free time? And what if people find my shit really fucking weird? etc”

I put the idea off for a year and finally came back to it last year when I found myself taking frequent trips to the library to write for a whole day. I would buy a Booster Juice, some sushi or Subway, and then I would park my ass on a plastic library chair for 5-8hrs straight. Come Fall/Winter, with the knowledge that I had some basic self-discipline (lmao), I looked into writing courses. I decided to take an online romance writing course that would start February 2020.

Guess when my country began seeing COVID cases? February 2020. Oh boy!

So my lifestyle changed, my work changed, and then I have school work?!?! My dumb ass hasn’t touched anything school related in three years. I was like “you know what? I’m going to try! I’m going to want to learn, and I’m going to put in effort.” Holy shit!!!!! I’ve learned that school still stresses me out lol it doesn’t matter that my grades literally don’t matter in this course. I’m still stressed.

That’s not to say I didn’t like this course. I really enjoyed it because I actually did learn a lot. My instructor (professor???) was also really...ELOQUENT LMAO Her lecture notes would spill mad tea but in the most polite way possible. I have yet to see any of my marks or read any of her comments (due to my fragile ego) but I am excited to do so.

One example of her brilliance in getting her message across is this little section about active vs passive verbs. We’ve all done this lesson hundreds of times in high school, but OMG the line that she uses at the end really solidifies the difference! After reading that, I decided not to skip any of the other readings lmao home girl had my respect.

OK ANYWAY! Back to me stressing! I was very stressed with every assignment. It was nice to be challenged to write differently (creating better mood, fleshing out characters more) because the end products were all...”nice”. But that shit took so much energy that I couldn’t write anymore! I couldn’t think of new plots that I was interested in :( It also didn’t help that I was going through other personal issues, and my libido was nonexistent. As a result, I have so many intros to stories because I’ve had to force myself to think of something for this course, but I never was truly interested in them to actually write it all out from start to finish. Not to mention, I have not written a sex scene since February lol

Then came the final assignment that I just submitted two days ago. OMG. It was a straight up publisher’s package. You had to have a 20pg manuscript. You had to write a query letter/cover letter. You had to research which publisher you would submit to. IT WAS SO SCARY.

I was going to write a whole new story for this manuscript but after writing 4k words, literally nothing was happening in the story and I was so bored. So I scrapped it all and took one of my most recent stories (Universal Differences, but in third person lmfaooo) and tried to tweak it. It was soooo difficult!!! Of course, I also procrastinated this whole thing because procrastination is one of my character traits. On the last three days, I pulled 8-10hrs non-stop everyday to finish it (unrelated, but I watched the SuperM 100 MV after one of these days, and I had to close my laptop immediately after the video because I felt like the MV was attacking me to stay awake LOL). There were so many times where I legit hated myself and my writing and nearly cried because I would think back on all the love that you guys gave to that story and then I’d be like “THE STORY (and, in turn, me as a person) IS SO UNDESERVING OF ANY LOVE AT ALL.”

See, this is why I went to a therapist a few years back loooool I had to rewire my brain to dissociate my writing from myself. I had to keep reminding myself that even if my prof didn’t like it, I would still get good feedback at the end of the day and none of that feedback would reflect me as a person. That even if she told me that I was never going to be able to ever publish anything, there are many writers who were told the same thing and came out of it alive and prosperous because they continued to work hard. I have a whole ass template now of what to send to a publisher/agent. If I wanted to, I would have the skill base to take a story and know where to direct it for publication.

And I would have the confidence to do that!!! Because I’ve already done it once!!!

Something cute my prof said when one of the students said they were overwhelmed:

[ I think it can help if you just think of it as the business processes of that industry - and not you laying your heart and soul out in front of some stranger to judge. :)]

;____________;

OK that is all for now, I think! Since I have submitted my final assignment, my imagination has come free of its reigns so I hope to get more stories out to you guys! Thank you for the requests too! The wilder they are, they more they get my brain going hehehehehehehhehe have a good week everyone~

[thesnowinthemountains]

NCT 127 helping you study

(a/n: i did my best but i apologize in advance if there are inaccuracies in certain fields of study, i also acknowledge that the lengths of these are hella inconsistent. oops.)

Taeil

He thought it would be a good idea to have music playing in the background while you tried to study. Tried. You kept getting distracted by a particularly good lyric or interesting instrumental arrangement until you were eventually about to crawl out of your skin. He was sitting across from you at the dinner table, your papers scattered everywhere, scrolling through his phone.

“Taeil, turn that off please.” You said it softly.

“No.”

You look up at him now.

“What do you mean ‘no’? Yes. Turn that off,” you laugh it off, but you’re the slightest bit annoyed. This is one of the biggest exams you’ll have this semester, and if you don’t straight up ace it, you’ll be struggling for the next few weeks. He shakes his head.

“Taeil-”

“I read somewhere that if you can associate sounds or music to words, it helps to memorize them. I’m trying to help.”

“Oh.” You pause. “Well, maybe try it again later, for now I don’t even have my definitions down.”

He finally looks at you.

“Fine.” The music stops and you fall back into a peaceful silence.

Johnny

“Alright, who painted ‘Composition with Red, Blue and Yellow’?”

“Mondrian. Come on, at least give me something difficult, I’m trying to pass this final,” you whine, head hanging over the side of your bed. Johnny sits at your desk across the room.

“Okay, how about some added incentive?” Your study sheet falls from his face and you realize you haven’t actually looked at him in about a half hour.

“Yes?” You lean up onto your elbows.

“Every answer you get right now is a kiss you’ll get later.” He cocks his head. You don’t even have to think about it.

“Deal! Come on, next question.” You plop back down. A few minutes later, after a lightning round of names and dates, colours and details, you sit up to find him writing on your notes.

“What are you doing? Those are important.” You frown.

“I’m keeping a tally so I don’t forget one later. We are at...” He smirks without looking up and counts his marks on the page. “Seven, so far.”

“Ah,” you blush, “carry on, then.” You think to yourself there’s no way in hell you’ll ever be able to focus on that particular page of notes again.

Taeyong

You were supposed to memorize the entire periodic table and you were absolutely overwhelmed at the prospect. This was one of those moments you wished you had some superhuman photographic memory that would require minimal effort on your end. Taeyong had you study piece by piece over a long period of time. At first, you hadn’t even noticed he was doing it - he was being sneaky.

“Hey, what’s the first row of the periodic table?”

“That’s a weird question.”

He shrugged.

“I don’t know, I just had a weird flashback to science class in high school, it was up on a wall next to my desk. I think it starts with helium, right?”

“Hydrogen and helium, technically, yeah, but that’s not really how they’re grouped.” You explained.

“Oh? So how are they grouped?”

“Well, you’ve got your metals, halogens, stuff like that.”

“Huh. And what are they?”

That’s when you started to catch on. You cocked your head at him.

“Which ones? There are a few different types of metals.”

“Well, whichever.” He shrugged, still playing his part perfectly.

Yuta

It wasn’t an exam, per se, but you had to put together a final portfolio for an art class, one you hated. It was supposed to be basic drawing techniques, but the professor was all over the place; not all that surprising for an art professor, but still annoying to follow. You were sitting on your living room floor, papers strewn everywhere, barely knowing where to begin. You had a drawing of a flower that was nice and simple, you had gotten the shading right, you liked it enough. One was of a hallway; same deal, the technique was alright, you set it aside, but you had to pick a total of ten drawings. You had dozens, some of the same thing over and over again because you, or the professor, were never satisfied. When Yuta walked into the apartment and found you in that state, he started by sitting quietly beside you on the floor.

“What are we doing?” He murmured after a minute.

“Freaking out.”

“I see. Anything I can help with?”

You didn’t answer, but held up a decent-enough drawing of a hand.

“Do you think the details on this are okay?” You asked. He looked at you and then the drawing. He liked pretty much anything you did, but he knew you needed brutal honesty if you were ever going to be finished with this. He took a long, deep breath.

“So, the index finger on this one looks a little wonky, I think this one,” he reached for another drawing of a hand, “has better lines, better dimensions. All the fingers are good.”

“Oh, I hate the thumb on that one, though…”

He shrugged.

“This one?” He picked a drawing of a desk under a window. “The light looks really cool.”

Doyoung

For your final assignment, you were to make a long, detailed marketing proposal to your class. If it was picked up, you passed, if not, you had an opportunity for a do-over, and a private presentation to the professor alone. You didn’t want the second option, you had other things to do after passing this class that did not include a one-on-one meeting with your middle-aged professor some time after the end of classes. You had been reciting the whole thing to yourself for days, you had prepared a PowerPoint presentation and a ton of visuals to aid you, but you needed a second opinion. You had gone out with Doyoung a handful of times, you both figured it was a matter of time before things between you were made official, so you had him over, sat him down, and launched into your presentation. At the end, you took a breath, then asked:

“How was that?”

He gaped at you.

“Well, hot, we’ll start there.”

“No, Doyoung, I meant would you go for this idea if you were the CEO of something?”

“Honestly, yeah. You made some good points, you had valid, real reasons for what you wanted to do and how you wanted to market this thing. I think it works.” He shrugged.

“You’re a business major, you better not be bullshitting me.”

“You’re a marketing major, you could probably tell if I was.”

Jaehyun

You had given Jaehyun a key to your apartment months ago. He let himself in regularly, and a lot of the time, he was there when you got home from school or work. This time, though, he walked in to you sitting on your living room floor, laptop on the coffee table, facing the couch. There was paper all over the floor, some crumpled, some ripped, some simply abandoned. He had to tiptoe and side-step all the way to you. Your hair was a mess, which he would’ve found endearing if your eyes hadn’t been bloodshot.

“What are you doing?”

You nearly jumped out of skin, startled.

“Fuck, when did you get here?” You asked, eyes wide.

“Just now. You know you have a desk.” He nodded to the wooden furniture in the far corner of the room. You sighed.

“I couldn’t sit there anymore, I was going out of my mind.”

“Well, what are you doing?” He asked again, picking up notes on the couch to sit, facing you.

“My final portfolio for my fiction class is due tomorrow and I haven’t worked on anything in weeks.”

“You’re always writing.”

“Yeah, I’m always writing, but I had two of these stories workshopped months ago and I hadn’t looked at them since. God, they needed so much work, Jaehyun, I can’t believe I actually submitted that. Plus, I was missing a good ten pages for the portfolio, which I’ve written now, thank god, but I have so many drafted versions, I don’t know which one I want. I wrote seven different endings. I’m not even sure about my characters’ names. Or if I want them to be named, nothing’s coming out like I want it, I don’t know what I’m going to do-”

“Okay, slow down, slow down,” he moved to sit on the floor now, facing you at eye level. “How long have you been writing?”

You looked down at the time on your laptop. You frowned, confused.

“That can’t be right.”

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“There’s no way-”

“Alright, go take a nap, I’ll order some food.”

Winwin

“I need you to play judge.” You told Sicheng.

“Judge?”

“Yeah, sit,” you placed him at the center of the couch, and looked around before handing him a spoon. “Tap that on the table if you need to interrupt me.”

He stared at the spoon.

“Isn’t that for weddings?”

“So, I’m basically defending a client accused of theft and-”

“Don’t I get, like, case notes or something?”

“So demanding.” You rolled your eyes but went for your notes. He looked them over for a few minutes before leaning back comfortably.

“Proceed.” He declared, voice loud and clear. You smiled before launching into everything you prepared for your final. He did a fine job of rebutting if possible and interrupting when necessary, though you had to stop him from objecting! about anything he disagreed with.

Jungwoo

As an education major in your first year, your big final assignment was to prepare an elementary-level language class to teach your fellow university-level education major peers. To prepare, you had Jungwoo come over and told him he’d be playing the role of a seven year old, which pleased him.

“I’m a baby, you know that. This is perfect,” he grinned, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you.

“Yes, now shut up, we’re learning vowels.” You said in your regular voice before switching to the over-enunciated, slightly higher-pitched voice of a first or second-grade teacher.

Mark

“How’s the essay going?” Mark asked, coming into your dorm room. He plopped down on your bed behind you.

“Well, so… get this,” you swiveled around in your chair to face him, leaving behind you a handful of novels, two different notebooks, and your phone open to pictures of your friends’ notes. “I’m supposed to write a compare-and-contrast essay about James Joyce and Samuel Beckett, of all people.”

“Is that so bad?”

“Mark, have you ever read Beckett? It’s like an acid trip in slow motion. You finish it, you have straight up no clue what you just read, but now you have to write about it.”

He frowns.

“And that other guy?”

“Joyce? He’s okay, I’m just glad writing about Ulysses isn’t a requirement. There are just certain things I’m not willing to put myself through.”

“Well, mind if I keep you company?” He leans back on your bed.

“Go ahead, just try not to distract me too much, I want to get this done today.”

“You won’t even know I’m here.” He puts his headphones in and lies back against your pillow. 

Haechan

This boy had arranged a whole game night just for you. He had friends over, set up a whole tournament bracket in which he was, of course, your partner, and he made sure even if you didn’t end up winning, you would end up learning, memorizing, and having fun getting ready for your most dreaded final. Food was ordered, drinks were made, and finally everyone involved in this evening was sat around the dinner table, in a heated trivia competition.

Some days later when your exam came around and you saw the first questions, your mind flashed back to Haechan shouting the answer at the top of his lungs and standing up so fast his chair fell backwards. It had been a ridiculous, slightly stupid idea, but damn if it hadn’t worked like a charm.

[tbzhours]

yes or yes

eric x you, enemy to lovers au, high school au, fluff

[summary] you probably like and hate eric just a little bit [words] 1.9k [a/n] requested; this was so fun to write but i really hope this feels like an enemies to lovers au;; anyhow, don’t forget to tell me how you like it ♡

You were walking in the hallway like all of the students were doing while looking at your notes to prepare for a quiz in one of your classes which you shared with Eric AKA your enemy since middle school. You didn’t remember how it started but since you met him, you both would always try to beat each other in everything. You thought going to the same high school afterwards was enough but you couldn’t stand him when you heard he was going to be in the same chemistry class.

When you looked up, almost reaching your class, you saw Eric with his friends walking the opposite direction toward you. You shot an annoying glare, still holding onto your notes right when he turned his head and met your eyes. He grinned so perfectly that his lips seemed brighter than the lights that were shining through the windows to the ground. Before you went inside, ignoring the boy, he waved as if he knew you would get pissed.

You sat in your usual spot and so did he at the front. Your section faced the window so you’d always see his side profile and you’d always hate how he’s blocking the sun from you. When you looked up after setting your things on your desk, you saw him staring with a smirk.

“What do you want?” You glared at him again after sighing. He stuck his tongue out at you and turned away quickly before you could even throw a pencil at him. That was when the teacher finally came in and you thought you lost that round.

The class was almost ending without any wars with Eric until the teacher announced science project where you’d get partnered up with another classmate to work with for the next three weeks and present it at a fair at your school. You’ve been anticipating since that project was a huge part of your grade for the class and getting paired up with Eric would be the last thing on your mind if you could be with anyone, but who knew it would get worse for you? Eric walked by you with that same smirk when the last partners were announced as the bell rang.

“See you later, partner.”

Your head was burning and your face was getting hotter at every second of thinking about being paired up with Eric. You were so quiet that some of your seatmates didn’t notice until their laughs quiet down from reenacting how you and Eric would do the project together.

“It’ll be alright. You’re gonna pull through just fine.” Juyeon patted your back and you frowned at him. Somehow, his encouraging words calmed you down a little and you felt grateful until you heard Hyunjae’s sigh.

“No, you’re not. You won’t even survive for a hot minute. You’ll probably just get so annoyed that you’ll want to rip your head off.” Hyunjae’s hands shook in front of you and you gasped. You missed his face when he moved away from your swinging hand.

“Some kind of help you are.” You crossed your arms and looked away, leaning onto your seat.

“It’s not like we can do anything about it.” He continued with his trustful words. He leaned close to you and whispered, “Are you fighting with him or this project?”

As you were walking to your locker with Hyunjae’s words rolling in your thoughts, you felt like you were in a war with everything. It wasn’t just a fight and you didn’t know how to deal with it other than just dealing with it. It sounded simple but you sighed, opening your locker and hope that the thought would go away.

When you closed your locker, there stood Eric, peeking close to you with his annoying smile blooming on his face. You crossed your arms with the books in your hands and took a step back and asked, “Who are you?”

Eric nodded, pretending to think with his hand cupping his chin. “Good question. I’m your partner.”

You rolled your eyes and started to walk away as he followed you. You continued, “And what do you want?”

“Well, about our project, to start this, we need to collab and when I mean collab, I mean we would need to meet more frequently.“

“And your reason for that?”

“To get this project done faster so we won’t have to see each other this close again.” Eric was smiling when you stopped in your tracks and turned to look at him. Your faces were close, making Eric move back a little. You didn’t know he would want the same as you and you smirked at him.

“Then how should we start this?” You already had a few ideas for the project as you eagerly asked in a calm tone.

“Your phone number.”

You and Eric started to text each other, some calls on special occasions with coming up with ideas and writing your reports up together. Things were going slow because you both couldn’t decide which experient to go with. That was why he invited you to meet him at the library during your lunch break and before you could even reply, your phone got taken away from one of your classes.

You stomped your way into the library, finding the unusually quiet Eric reaching for books. He scanned through the pages and as you stared at him, you felt like you were staring at yourself. You hoped he wouldn’t turn so quickly to catch you staring but you pretended to walk over and set your things down beside his stuff on the table.

“Oh, you really came.” He greeted when he heard you. He walked toward you and sat in front of you across the table. He frowned in disappointment when he set his book down with his hands still keeping the page open. “Why didn’t you text back?”

“Because I got confiscated.” You rolled your eyes and Eric bursted a laugh but he covered it quickly, almost forgetting that he’s in a library. He looked back at you, hiding his lips still.

“How?”

“You keep blasting up on my phone.” You were glad you didn’t have your phone with you because if he saw how you named him, you would probably get into a more heated argument than now.

“Hey! That’s because I know how to text and not get caught like you.” You glared at him when he pointed at you with his giggling face. “Anyway, I found a few more experiments that we can modify.”

“But that’s not what we decided on. We just need to choose one, like right now.” You pointed out when he started to show you some of his notes beside his opened book.

“Okay, perfectionist. Just don’t want you to stress over this.” Eric frowned away and looked back into his book.

You were surprised that he knew that part about you but you let it go since you wanted to get this project done as soon as possible.

You started to look at some books too, hoping to find something that you both finish in just a day. As your eyes were reading along the pages, he was looking at you. He smiled softly with his lingering glances at your focused mind as he hoped that you wouldn’t catch him staring too.

You frowned, looking away from the text and whispered, “What is one that we can just get it done in one day?” “You think we can do that?” Eric gave you a judging look and you rolled your eyes again. “You need to stop doing that or your eyes will really roll off your face.”

Your eyes widened, “You shut up or else I’ll put salt in your eyes.”

Then, it came to him as his eyes also widened along with is mouth. “Salt! That’s what we need!” You were confused at this point when you saw him writing something down then he continued, “You can trust me on this one.”

Making crystals with salt; you thought that was such as childish experiment because you did that in middle school with him when you both were also paired up, which you totally forgot about because you both didn’t actually do the experiment and just faked your way into it. Maybe this time, you both could finally do a real one with a true attempt in making it work.

That was how you’d end up at his place every evening to check on the experiments under his kitchen sink while recording your data and writing reports afterwards.

It was just a few nights before the reports were due that you realized you both were finished with everything. You felt something missing, maybe the feeling of having someone to work when you grabbed your phone and causally pressed the call button under the name of “Eric I hate you.”

“Shit, we need to meet one last time.” You confessed in a panic.

“Thought we’re finished and ready?” His confused voice lingered in your ears as you had your hand covering your forehead.

“I think we have to fix something.” And you didn’t let him cut you when you demanded, “Let’s meet right now.”

You headed to Eric’s place, meeting him at his back porch with your laptop and his notebook. You were scrolling through your reports, checking them again. Eric peeked over and sighed.

“I’ve already checked it over five times. Just tell me what you wanted to add or change and we can discuss over it.” He suggested and you closed your laptop, agreeing with him with a small smile when you looked at him.

“You’re right. I just wanted to check it over with you before we submit it. I think it’s all good now.”

“Really? You came over to say that when you could just texted me?” Eric was confused but he smirked like the one that you hate so much and you could tell that he was trying to read your mind. “You didn’t come over to do that, are you?”

“No, I did.” You nodded as if you were struck by the truth. You saw him giggle and you knew he found out.

“You probably just want to kiss me.” The way he looked into your eyes was mesmerizing and you couldn’t stop staring at him.

“You’re right. I do want to kiss you without a reason.” Eric was shocked at your confession through his joke as he stopped smiling. In a panic mode, he put his hands up in the air.

“Wait, let’s get through this project first.” He awkwardly smiled, not knowing how to take this to heart.

There was a chance that he liked you too when you moved closer to him and he didn’t move back. You grabbed his shoulder and leaned in, letting your lips brush against his. So surprised at the touch, Eric found himself kissing you back, his hand finding their way to your chin. It made your cheek burn, making a hot rush going through your body.

When you both pulled back, there was a new light in your eyes that Eric had found as he wondered why you both were so annoying to each other the past few years. Maybe it was that he didn’t look into your eyes deeply whenever he saw you, but now, he knew that his heart would race when he does as he could tell you felt the same when you kissed him.

[purplesurveys]

594

How are you today? I’m doing okay. My classmates in my least favorite class, Newspaper Layout and Design, have been a big pain in my ass and I’ve been carrying the entire class on my back because no one has the initiative to start giving a fuck about the requirements (I’d want to not give a fuck either, but someone has to and I’m probably the most grade-conscious person in that class) – but it’s a Friday and I’m having amazing coffee right now so it balances out. Do you have mean comments that replay in your head and haunt you? Not really. Some days I’ll remember the one hate comment I got on my ask.fm which led me to delete my account altogether, but it doesn’t bother me because I kinda proved that person wrong eventually.

For context, they told me I should stop wishing to be in UP so bad and to actually pass the entrance exam first before I’m allowed to talk about how much the university means to me. Joke’s on them – I passed the UPCAT not long after. Doesn’t mean I’d forgot the demotivating message, though.

^If so, do you know why that is? I always want to please people and thrive on compliments, so I’m bound to remember every single bad thing anyone tells me. What are you currently worried about, if anything? I’m worried about my deadlines for my Layout class. The requirements are a group effort, and so long as my classmates don’t start moving, I can’t really pass my parts anyway because I have to wait on them. UGH Did you go Black Friday shopping this past Black Friday? Pls stop asking me first-world references

^If so, what was the best deal you got? Have you ever been Black Friday shopping? What is your favorite Thanksgiving food? Do you wear a watch every day? No. Wearing them always makes me feel like there is something on my wrist, and that bugs me haha.

Pineapple or pepperoni? I don’t like either. All-cheese pizzas are my favorite. What food makes you feel nauseous? Not to say that it makes me feel like vomiting or dizzy, but I was never really a big fan of blue cheese. I can handle it on my pizza and sometimes its flavor jibes well with the other cheeses, but the taste always sticks out so I’m not particularly obsessed with it. Have you ever seen a spirit? No. When you have your own house someday, what color Christmas tree do you want and how will you decorate it? I want it traditional, so I’m going with green. It’s gonna have all sorts of decor like baubles, snowflakes, tinsel, leaves, etc. My family has always made an effort to make our trees look super nice and detailed and I wanna pass that on when I have my own place and maybe even kids down the road. Name 3 youtube channels you've been loving lately. HiHo Kids, Mankalor, and Moon Jeongwon’s vlogging channel. Do you have a youtube channel? I do but it’s only so that YouTube can tailor my homepage to what I’m into at the moment, and so that I can like/dislike videos haha. I don’t post my own content. ^If so, does your family approve? ...I don’t think they should have an opinion about me owning a YouTube account. But in any case, they don’t really mind. What do you think about the new "for kids" or "not for kids" rules? Like, parental control? I guess it’s a good thing. Kids have always had very makulit hands and end up seeing stuff they’re not supposed to. Makulit is a Filipino word that defies translation, but I guess the closest thing to it is either mischievous or restless.

Case in point: Back when I was in high school, I was working at one of the library computers when these Grade 1 kids sat at the computer beside me. They were searching images of the movie Frozen and it was all normal for a bit, but they scrolled too far down and eventually they landed at this very questionable manip of Elsa and Anna doing some stuff that kids that age definitely shouldn’t be seeing. ^ Do they affect you? No. I’m neither a kid nor a parent. What is the most disgusting thing you have ever eaten? [slight trigger warning for the vegans!!! Sorry, Filipino cuisine can sometimes be a lot to take for non-Filipinos]  I’m super adventurous when it comes to food so I haven’t found anything I’ve tried disgusting. I don’t particularly like the flavor of bopis (pork/beef lungs and heart) and pinapaitan (goat and ox innards meat flavored with bile, tamarind and chillies), but I don’t find them disgusting, and I’d still eat them if that was served at a family party.

What food is so disgusting you could absolutely never eat it? Dog/cat meat. Do you like sushi? Love sushi. What color was the last sweater you wore? Gray. Name 3 material items on your wish list right now. Nintendo Switch, a new pair of shoes (wow I really am a grown-up), and cash. Are you planning on doing Vlogmas (for youtube) this year? No. Zoella’s the only person I know who still does lmao Have you ever done Vlogmas before? No. Have you ever made money off of youtube? Omg no Are you happy that the year is coming to an end? SO HAPPY. 2019 felt like it was three fucking years long. Have you ever bought a designer purse? I haven’t bought any with my own money. Do people tell you that you look sick when you wear a certain color? No? ^If yes, what color? Do you consider yourself creative? Not at all. ....outgoing? Kinda. It depends on the situation. If I’m meant to be doing something I like or hang out with people I know, I can be very outgoing; but if it’s an unfamiliar situation, I tend to be more shy and let other people lead the way. ....free-spirited? I don’t think I’d call myself that. ....shy? Yep, at first. ....socially awkward? It’s a hit or miss. Sometimes I’m great with socializing; other times I just miss the mark. Do you often feel alone? Mostly during the Christmas season. Otherwise it’s an on-off thing for me, but the loneliness is for the most part turned off. What could be the theme song to your life? I never know what to answer in questions like this. My life has had a lot of phases and it’s hard to sum it all up into a single song. List three new songs you've discovered this year that you like a lot. I Saw You In A Dream by The Japanese House, the Summer section of Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons (thanks, Portrait of a Lady on Fire), and Joji’s Dancing in the Dark. If you could win a shopping spree in any store, what would it be? Fully Booked. Do you wear jewelry often? Very seldom. List 10 of your favorite girl names. I list them on surveys all the tiiiiiimeeeeeeeee. Uhh Olivia, Mia, Arden, Harper, Juliana/Julia, Isabella, Elizabeth, Charlotte, Lily, Emilia. I’m feeling the name Eloise tonight too, so let’s throw that one in as a runner-up. List 10 of your favorite boy names. Miguel, Joaquin, Javier, Jacob, Mason, Noah, Liam, Seth, Leon, Luis. Andres is also good, so I’m putting that in even though it’s name 11. List 10 girl names (or up to 10) that you don't really care for. That’s so many and possibly offensive :((((( I’ll just go with boomer names like Sally, Linda, Agnes (sorry to my Lola, who’s named Agnes), Karen, Pamela, Susan, Brenda...and maybe more common ones like Angela, Marie, Sam. List up to 10 boy names that you don't really care for. Not a big fan of boy names in general, but ones I don’t particularly like nor dislike are names like John, George, William (lmao just naming all the royals now I see LOL), Benedict, Jeffrey, Donald, Michael, Daniel, Drew, Mark. How old were you when you found out Santa wasn't real? Five. I didn’t find out; I just put the clues together. Do you own a Polaroid camera? Nope. I want one though. ^If so, what color is it? List one past regret. The one dumb thing I did in one of my classes where I forgot to submit something on time, and I had to make do with a late submission, which would already have deductions. Do you own Converse, and if so, what color? i used to; they were red. I stopped wearing them after a bit though so my mom threw them out. We have white Chucks now – my sister brings them with her in her dorm but when she’s home, I’d borrow it sometimes. What color was your senior prom dress? Let’s plz avoid talking about the stuff we purposely want to forget Are you colorblind? No. Name the people you know who are colorblind. Nobody, other than the colorblind folk on Twitter/Tiktok who make wholesome videos separating different colors of Skittles or M&Ms heh. What's one pet peeve of yours? People who DRIVE IN THE MIDDLE OF TWO LANES YO WHAT’S UP WITH Y’ALL Would you ever consider a career in writing? Sure, I’m kinda headed that way anyway. What was the first thing you wanted to be when you grew up? Astronaut. What was your first favorite color? Purple. What is your favorite color now? Pink or black. Do you know a lot of people with the same middle name as you? Yeah, Isabelle is very common. But where I live it’s usually spelled Isabel or Ysabel. Do you like the name Brynn? Not really. It sounds very 2010ish, wherein people would give their kids double-N’s like Kaitlynn, Rylinn, Brooklynn, Ashlynn and I was never a big fan of that trend (except for Finn, Flynn, and Quinn, which I find cute). List five names you hate the spelling of. Literally those 4 names I just mentioned. Oh and in the Philippines, there’s this trend of putting H’s on otherwise normal names, e.g. Jhulia, Mhae, Ghabriella, Mhark...it’s common in the lower classes so I don’t judge, but like it’s just not really not my taste lmao. Do you watch Niki and Gabi on youtube? No. Do you watch Brooklyn and Bailey? No. ....Bethany Mota? No. But I did see her once when YouTube held a FanFest here in Manila and she was part of the lineup. ......Gillian Bower? ....LaurDIY? .....Family Fizz? ....Chronically Jaquie? No to literally all of those. Have you ever purchased a youtuber's merch? No they are always way too expensive lol ^If so, what did you buy?

[nyangibun]

GoT S07E05 Thoughts

Fuck me. 

This might have been my least favourite episode to date and we had Gendry!!! Okay, in all fairness, it wasn’t a bad episode. There was just one particular conflict that I am not looking forward to seeing continue. 

And no, it’s not Jon3rys. I couldn’t give two shits about that right now. 

But let’s begin, shall we? 

For anyone who still believes Dany to be a good person, I honestly suggest going to an optometrist or retaking high school English because how much more obvious can this show get? I didn’t get to write down her full speech, but following this:

“I’m not here to murder...”

With this: 

“Bend the knee and join me or refuse and die”

You’re kind of a hypocrite and a really obvious one at that. War is horrible, I get it, and good people do atrocious things in war, but that’s why we, as modern somewhat enlightened (although questionable) human beings, have war trials. People may die in war, as that is inevitable, but there are certain acts that no decent human should perform even in the midst of war. 

I know I’m quoting Wikipedia here, but whatever: 

Examples of war crimes include intentionally killing civilians or prisoners, torture, destroying civilian property, taking hostages, perfidy, rape, using child soldiers, pillaging, declaring that no quarter will be given, and serious violations of the principles of distinction and proportionality, such as strategic bombing of civilian populations.

Do you think a man as concerned with portraying war as a clusterfuck of morally grey characters would place an entitled figure with weapons of mass destruction which she uses indiscriminately, who commits war crimes, as the main protagonist? Do you think that is a good conclusion? And this is simply going by this episode and not the mess Dany made in previous seasons. 

She had Randyll and Dickon Tarly as her prisoners. There was no need to execute them, or at least no need to execute both of them. If she wanted to make an example, she could do so with Randyll, but fine, let’s concede the fact it had to be done. She burned them. A slow, horrible, agonising death. She could have beheaded them, as was customary in Westeros, but no, she chose to burn them because you know why? She likes it. She’s done it before. Burning her enemies gives her great satisfaction of her power, but also it spreads fear into the hearts of everyone there because she knows it’s the only way to get them to submit. 

If she allowed them the third option of becoming a prisoner of war, she knows they’d choose that over her. She even says so to Tyrion, because guess what? The people of Westeros doesn’t like or want Dany as their queen. Cersei may be a Grade A Bitch, but she’s the bitch they know. She doesn’t have dragons to burn those who defy her at her will. Yes, she’s powerful and could still easily execute people at a moment’s notice, but they’ve seen her humiliated and frightfully human when she was made to walk naked in shame through the streets of King’s Landing. She is human and she can fall. To them, Dany wields her power like a god and not the kind they worship out of love but out of fear. What kind of ruler is that?

And let’s talk about execution in general here. We’ve seen a lot of it over the seasons, and what we always come back to as a code of honour and true morality in this grey world is this quote from Mr Honour himself, Ned Stark: 

“The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. If you would take a man's life, you owe it to him to look into his eyes and hear his final words. And if you cannot bear to do that, then perhaps the man does not deserve to die.”

Mr Honour Jr aka Jon Snow lives by this rule like a life motto. If he must sentence a man to die, he will swing the sword himself, and throughout the show, we’ve seen Jon do this and we’ve seen how this weighs upon him, though the culprits may be deserving. Yes, people die in war and Jon has killed on the battlefield for survival, but executing someone is a deliberate act. It’s taking the life of a human while they are powerless to stop you. Jon doesn’t take any pleasure in it. 

But Dany... She’s executed people left, right and center. Burning them in the most unnecessarily cruel way because she can and because it instills fear. Feeding them to her dragons which is even worse. That’s not at her hand. That’s cowardly and sadistic. 

You know who else rules through fear? 

“The only way to keep your people loyal is to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy.” 

Cersei bloody Lannister. 

Yeah, let that sink in. And let’s move on. 

Jon meeting Drogon. I hated this scene, although I see how it’s important in establishing Jon as a Targaryen. I didn’t like it mostly because I was still reeling Drogon burning the Tarly’s alive, and yet right after, they have Jon bonding with Drogon like some special moment. But do you think Jon would even touch that dragon if he knew the horrors Dany had made Drogon do? Or the fact that she just executed Jon’s best friend’s family in the worst way possible? Yeah, Sam hated his father, but he didn’t hate his brother. And no matter what animosity there was between them, Sam is a good person and he would still be devastated by this. Not to mention we weren’t given all those Dickon scenes where the man acted with honour, kindness and bravery, just to dismiss him as another faceless enemy of Dany’s. He was Sam’s brother and so much like Sam in a way. I think that’s what made his death in spite only knowing him for 2 episodes so heartbreaking. Also, why this meeting between Jon and Drogon made me angry and disgusted. 

Of course, it also establishes some Jon3rys bonding, although more so on Dany’s side. Let’s face it, the Dragon Queen wants familial Dragon D. Her heart eyes for Jon throughout this episode was at least 100x more convincing than previous episodes between them. Jon, on the other hand, has moments where he does seem to think Dany is alright, but I still don’t see the same level of affection on his end at all. As always, he has a one-track mind and that’s the war up North. 

And I’m sorry but Dany’s attraction towards Jon seems to predicate on her notion that he’s as heroic and powerful as her. I get that he is and that’s a wonderful reason to fall in love with him, but it’s still falling in love with the idea of him and not who he is, because who Jon is, isn’t that person. He doesn’t want to be a hero or to be powerful. I know Show Jon doesn’t go into this, but Book Jon wants a family, to settle in Winterfell and live peacefully and honourably like his pseudo father. But Dany will never know that about him because she doesn’t know him. Take her asking Jon about whether he got a knife to the heart, the wonder and awe in her eyes as she asks him. She wants him to be just like her (or her delusional perception of herself as some kind of prophesised princess that was promised). Jon is who she thinks she is and she’s attracted to that, which is basically some Game of Thrones version of Narcissus. When she realises he’s a Targaryen, she’ll feel threatened more than relieved she’s not alone, because if she thinks he’s her then she’ll think he wants the Iron Throne and he’s a threat to her ambitions. 

There’s a reason why after all that Gilly discovers the Rhaegar and Elia annulment (which btw is such bullshit but whatever). Jon has more right to the Iron Throne than she does. 

What’s funny about this episode that even Dany’s Second Biggest Fan struggles to support her. Yes, he still will, but that entire conversation he has with Varys just sounds a lot like he’s trying to convince himself that ‘yes, all rulers burn their prisoners like a sadistic pyroqueen, and yes, Dany is so not like her father’. And the fact that her own loyal subjects are questioning her? Yeah, tell me again how she’s a hero. 

Now onto the main reason why I hate this episode: StarkBowl. But oh ho, not Jon and Sansa StarkBowl but Sansa and Arya. 

I’ve always loved Arya. She was my favourite character for so many seasons, until I fell madly in love with Sansa, although Arya remains in my Number 2 spot. But this episode, I felt such a burning anger towards her. After all they’ve been through, everything Sansa’s endured, Arya would still hold her accountable for the beliefs Sansa held as a young child. She’s changed and grown so much on account of her experiences yet she will not lend her own sister the same courtesy. It pisses me off because what Arya is doing (judging and accusing Sansa of things she didn’t do or for who she was when she was a child) is exactly what Anti-Sansa’s have been doing for years. And her own short-sighted, ignorant inability to grasp that this woman before her is not the same Sansa she once knew has now led her to being manipulated and conned by Littlefinger. 

What I can only hope is that Sansa is smarter than Littlefinger. Bran wouldn’t give Arya the dagger if he foresaw Arya using it on Sansa. And I feel like it is so uncharacteristic of Arya, who has longed for so long to be reunited with her pack, to suddenly break down by childish prejudice at the first miscommunication. Sansa is far more cunning than anyone gives her credit for and I feel that this could all be a long orchestrated con on Littlefinger himself. Arya’s not that stupid. I refuse to believe she’s stupid enough to underestimate LF that way and let herself be manipulated so easily. I feel like perhaps that fight between Sansa and Arya was for LF’s benefit because it felt so contrived, so out of nowhere. I know this speculation is also heavily biased by my refusal to believe that the Starks would fight amongst themselves after all they went through, but I do believe that LF will die this season. It won’t be at Sansa’s hand but it will be because of Sansa’s machinations. 

Now, onto Gendry!!!!!

The happiest part about this hell episode because fuck, he’s so hot still. That cropped hair, those muscles, that smile... Yeah, swoon. He’s also hilariously bullheaded (very like a Baratheon) when he ignores Davos, hits those soldiers with his hammer and immediately tells Jon who he is. 

In fact, there was this instant spark of chemistry between Gendry and Jon in their first meeting. 

“You’re a lot leaner.”

“You’re a lot shorter.”

The gentle ribbing of two strangers is adorable, but it also reminds me of Ned and Robert’s first scene together:

"Your Grace.” "You’ve got fat.”

Now the parallels of Jon as Ned is nothing we haven’t seen before. Gendry as Robert is newer, and Jon and Gendry together as Ned and Robert is so satisfying to watch. It also makes me, a trash shipper, so happy because you know if Jon is being paralleled as Ned in this episode, you know who is being paralleled as Cat? 

Yes, that’s right. Strong, confident Sansa, who was called only Lady Stark in the Great Hall meeting. 

I know I’m crazy but I’m still not worried about Jonsa. That scene in the Great Hall just kept making me think of Sansa as Penelope. She’s there holding onto Winterfell for Jon’s return as he gallivants off on his many missions and overcomes his many trials. She’s there, always loyal and true to him, and maintains his kingdom for him. 

Boatbang may happen (likely), but Odysseus also slept with Calypso, before ultimately returning to his lady love. I believe the same will happen for Jonsa. 

Also, who thinks Cersei’s not actually pregnant? I think she’s beginning to question Jaime’s loyalty and needs to firmly hold him in place. And I think when he finds out she’s not after all he’s done for, all the sinful things he did, it might make him plunge that sword into her heart prophecy-style. Or not a sword. I don’t know. 

But that’s it for me. My head hurts. My heart hurts. And I maintain that I hate this episode because fuck StarkBowl. And fuck disrespecting Sansa like that. 

[bbparker]

Chap Stick (Peter Parker)

Request:  Can you write an imagine Peter's in love with popular reader and she's waiting for him to make a move but he's oblivious? They slightly know each other but not like besties or anything. One day as Peter stares her across table she texts him something sweet and flirty? you can take it from here to anywhere, I hope you would write it thank you so much <3

Requested by: @imaginesyes 

A/N: I’m so happy you requested this! Honestly big privilege to write for anyone! I changed it a little to when Peter has only just got his powers so he still wears his glasses! Also, the text is a little more flirty than sweet and (Y/B/F/N) can be male or female, personally I imagined male, but it’s up to you :)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Nada, cheesy flirting maybe?

I was listening to My Type by Saint Motel, you can listen to it here.

Words: 1437

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Peter’s school life was anything but fabulous; his peers were unsettled with his mere presence and the school jock had it out for him. But one thing in this school cancelled out all the negatives. (Y/N) (Y/L/N). The school’s most loved person, her popularity was through the roof. Although she was beautiful and smart Peter got to see other sides of her that he didn’t think anyone else got to see. He got to see her within her passion in after school hours.

The subject of chemistry came naturally to (y/n) and loved to stay back in school, with the permission of her teachers, and create different compounds and mixtures. The elegance and confidence she had in the moments Peter came to watch, he couldn’t help but feel the swell of a crush forming in his chest.

Unknown to Peter (Y/N) had been watching him too. The glasses that adorned his face made his eyes look a bit bigger than they were, he had slight acne under his chin and sometimes he put too much gel in his hair; but when he sometimes rocked up to school a bit late, his hair unruly and curly, his shirt slightly crinkled and a croaky voice her heart would thunder in her chest. The moments when (Y/N) would spot him in the corner of her eyes, watching her after school, she would gain ten times more confident.  (Y/N) had a knack for catching him staring and often, not that she minded. Mostly because she was also staring back at him.

What frustrated her most of all was the clueless boy himself- he couldn’t take a hint. She had smiled at him all the time, casually touched him whenever they had small talks and even gave him her number. She gave it to him three months ago and he’d only managed a simple ‘hello’ before he stopped responding. (Y/N) couldn’t understand, maybe he didn’t like her after all? But he always stared, so why couldn’t he text her back. (Y/N) knew she had a crush on the Parker boy from when she first saw him in 7th grade, but she was taller than him then and now he was a head taller than her.

Sitting at her lunch table after another failed attempt at getting him to talk to her in science, given he was her lab partner, (y/n) was feeling disheartened. Did he not like her back?

‘Maybe he likes someone else prettier than me like Liz Allen, Angel Pettifer or even Michelle?’ She thought.

“What’s up with you (y/n), you’re very silent and I think everyone in the school notices. “Looking around (Y/N) saw some people giving her curious stares - the social butterfly looked like she got shot out of the sky. “I…I’m just having a problem with a boy…” (Y/B/F/N) instantly perked up, “You like a boy and you didn’t tell me? Who is it? Is it Jace? Everyone says you’re a perfect match!” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, she knew her best friend had something with Jace in her strive for power; and anyway, she had no interest in brainless boys like him. Her type sat across from her, at another table, with glasses slipping down his nose as he read from a science textbook.

“Jace is gross and so not my type. I hate that people in this school try to set up a ‘perfect couple’, it ridiculous…”  “Well, you are a gem in this school. Anyways, who were you talking about? Surely not that Parker boy? “One look at you told her everything. Peter heard his name, due to only being the next table over and looked directly at you and continued to stare.

“No! (Y/N), you should date boys like Flash, Jace or Evan! They’re your type.” “You mean their status’ type, not mine. “Breaking eye contact with the Parker boy, (y/n) sets a devilish smile on her face as she decides to send a text. If kindness wouldn’t work maybe a more direct approach would work.

(Y/N): Are you wearing chap stick?

Peter looked down as his phone buzzed, frowning- It took a few moments for him to finally reply. (Y/N) was staring at him as he answered and when he looked back up she found her phone buzzing. Still ignoring her friends rambling she sought out the text.

Parker <3: No, why??

(Y/N): I am, wanna taste?

Looking back up as she replied, a smirk on her face. Slowly as Peter re-read the text over and over, face becoming the colour of fire, before looking back up to (y/n). Suddenly a presence made itself known next to her. “Hey (y/n), busy Friday?” Jace’s voice made her tense due to the several times he had asked her this very verse. “Hmm, maybe I am, it depends…” Jace, seeming to anticipate the new response that wasn’t a 'no', moved even closer to her. Peter, who was on the next table with his new senses at top notch noticed the slight movement and tensed heavily. He was practically ignoring his best friend, Ned in the process. The boy didn’t seem to notice.

“On what?”

“Whether or not my chap stick tastes good enough…” (y/n) looking directly at Peter, whose demeanor was slowly gaining confidence. “I’d be happy to judge that for you (y/n).”

She scoffed a laugh, “Yes, but the problem is I am very selective of my taste testers.” Licking her lips, Peters' eyes followed it before letting out an audible gulp. (Y/n) had definitely noticed causing her to smirk devilishly and Peter to look down and began typing rapidly on his phone.

Parker <3: Can I talk to you?

(Y/N) read the test and looked up to find him already staring, she motioned with her head towards the cafeteria doors. Getting the message, he stood abruptly, knocking the table and causing a loud bang. Instantly everyone looked at him, he blushed and walked out after muttering something to his best friend. The people around (y/n) began to talk normally and just as Jace was about to begin to ask her out again, with her best friend slightly glaring at him, she stood up.

“I forgot something in my locker. I’ll see you in class.” “But (y/n)-” Jace began but she hastily cut him off.

“Ask out (Y/B/F/N) I know you two have been seeing each other anyway! Don’t let that go on my behalf, you guys deserve your own story too…” (Y/n) laughed and smiled turning and rushing to get hopefully get her happy ending.

In the corridor (y/n) found a lone silhouette leaning against the lockers. “Peter?” (Y/N) smiled walking and standing closer to him once he stood up straight. She was closer to him than you would have been if merely in conversation.  “(Y-Y/N), I-I… ugh, this is hard… I w-want to-” The poor boy couldn’t seem to get the words out. Pushing his glasses back up to his face, only to slide down again, (y/n) moved closer. “Do you want to taste my chap stick, Parker?” She smiled coyly.

“N-no, I mean yes, but I want to-” Impatient, (y/n) wrapped her hands around his head and pulled his lips to hers. It wasn’t a long kiss but it was enough for now. However, it seemed Peter hadn’t got enough as he pulled her in by her hips to flush against his body and continued to kiss her.

They were in sync as (y/n) prophet her hand down to his cheek and stroked his cheek affectionately. Some audible gasps were heard and as the two separated they saw people from the cafeteria had returned and had seen the light making out.

The front of the crowd was Jace and (Y/B/F/N), but they were lightly smiling as they passed and went to class. Following behind them, (y/n) noticed Peter not walking with her. Turning she jogged back to his stunned face and grabbed his hand.

“C’mon Peter, we have to get to class. You can taste more of my chap stick later. That’s a promise” Peter finally gained to confidence to smile at you and leaned down to give you another simple kiss. “I like the sound of that…”

TAGS

@eliza-hamilton-helpless @purelittleblueberry @yoinkpeter

[constel-langst-ions]

Bad Crowds, Better Friends P.2

Here we go!!

—

“You’re late again!” Allura reprimanded, furious.

“Sorry, Princess,” Lance absently rubbed his eyes, “I didn’t get any sleep last night.” He finished his sentence off with a long yawn.

“Why not?” Hunk questioned, his bayard already transformed into the gun he used.

Lance went quiet, a look of despair crossing his features. “Just, Pidge’s calendar brought my mood down. I missed some important stuff.” He went over birthdays and other activities in his mind, especially the birth he missed.

“What could be possibly so important that you dont get any sleep?” Allura snapped at a bleary Lance.

He went silent again. Hunk gave him a questioning look, and Lance nodded. Hunk inclined his head in return, before turning to Allura.

“Allura, Lance missed something very important to him. He’s upset about it. Can you lay off of him for it, just today?”

Her glare only got scarier. “Absolutely not. If anything, I should be harder on him. He’s lagging behind the rest of us!” She growled.

“Lance,” she grit out, “care to tell us what you missed?”

Now Lance looked annoyed. “Look, Allura, I was trying to be nice but you just made my mood worse than it already is.”

She shut her mouth, shocked. “Well, I ne-”

“I missed something I promised that I’d be there for, okay? I promised one of my best friends that I would be there for her when she gave birth to her daughter. It was yesterday. News flash, I wasnt there for her.”

He wheezed, face red from anger, fists clenched at his sides.

“I missed important things, okay? Just, lay off today, please?” His voice got softer at the end.

Allura straightened. “Very well. We will just do mind meld, today. But, I expect you to be back on your feet by tomorrow. Understand?”

“I understand.” Lance nodded.

—

The paladins all sat in a circle on the floor, Coran handing them the headbands required for mind melding. Each put one on.

“Now, Paladins.” Allura’s voice came over the comms. “Think about something. Anything. Something you live, you hate. It doesn’t matter. Just project it.”

They did.

Pidge projected her dad and her brother, saluting in front of the Garrison, both in uniform.

Hunk projected a dining table filled with delicious looking food, him standing beside it with an apron on.

Keith projected a picture of his old shack in the desert, the plants around it, the homey feel.

Shiro projected the picture of a dog. A chihuahua, to be exact. A small, black, dog, standing on its hind legs with a rubber ball on its mouth. It was missing a hind leg.

Finally, Lance.

He projected a photo of him and his friends together. It was a sloppily taken selfie, shortly before he went off to the Garrison.

Lance held the camera, wearing a big grin. He was in Garrison uniform, and he held his acceptance letter.

Ida stood beside him, arm around his shoulders, her other hand over her baby bump, which was noticeable.

Alex stood in front of him, the top of his head reaching Lance’s chin. He was doing double peace signs. Lance’s free hand was on his shoulder.

Caleb and Ronnie stood behind him, towering over him. Ronnie had a hand on Ida’s shoulder.

Brett stood on Lance’s other side, using Lance’s shoulder as an arm rest. He was beaming, looking smug.

To the paladins, it was certainly an odd group.

The pictures all flickered away, Lance’s team giving him questioning stares.

“Those are my friends.” He softly explained. “Ida, Alex, Caleb, Ronnie and Brett. Ida is the pregnant one, obviously. I missed her daughter’s birth.”

Shiro had a somewhat judgemental look. “She looks young..”

Lance gained a confused expression. “Okay?”

“She’s a teen mom.”

“..okay?”

“Why?”

“She got drunk, which wasn’t new for us, and she got raped.” Lance deadpanned, but he had pained look in his eyes.

The team looked at Lance, horrified. Shiro’s eyes widened, then went back to normal. “What do you mean it wasn’t new ‘for us’?” He asked, eyes narrowing.

“Huh?” Lance’s eyes had flown wide for a moment. He looked fearful.

“You hung out with the bad crowd. Lance. You shouldn’t its bad for you. They’re probably bad people.” Shiro scolded.

Lance’s gaze hardened. “How about to meet them before you judge them? You’ll be judging me, too, if you say they’re bad people.”

“What do you mean, Lance?” Pidge hesitantly asked. She was scared for the answer.

Lance inhaled a bit.

“I met them when I was 14. I wasn’t in a good mindset, or place, at the time. I abused drugs and alcohol. I struggled, basically. I met them, one night. They warned me not to buy anything from this one guy.”

Lance paused for a moment, then continued when no one spoke.

“We hung out all the time after that. Most were dropouts, including Ida.”

“When I was 16, I started pulling myself together. I quit cold turkey, and submitted an application for the Garrison. I was getting back on track, making a promising future for myself.”

“They followed in my footsteps. Ida quit after she got pregnant, the rest of them following within that month. The dropouts got jobs, the rest of us in school brought our grades up, and overall, we did well.”

“Not to the other kids, though. We were still druggies, no-lifers. Ida was called a whore alot. She recieved harassment, even if we hung around her. It was endless. But we continued.”

“Then I went to the Garrison. I skyped them everyday, and I promised Ida, promised her, I would be there when she gave birth.”

“And I’m not. God, guys, I miss them so much. I just want to go back to Earth.” Lance choked on his tears, having started crying a few sentences back.

Allura walked in at that moment. “Paladins. We are setting a course for Earth. We will be staying for a day, apologies for the short time, before we must leave.”

They all grinned.

—

The next day, the castle landed in a remote area. They had sucessfully not been spotted.

They all exited the castle, Lance pulling out his phone.

“Im going to check out an area we hung out alot in. Hopefully they’ll be there.” Lance rushed out before he turned and ran into the woods.

He ran along twisted paths, his armour thudding against the hard dirt. The paladins and Alteans followed closely behind him.

He skidded to a stop by what seemed to be a tree house.

He knocked 3 times on the bark, and then they watched as he waited.

A few moments passed, a head poppong out over the edge. Alex, they remembered from the mind melding. “Hey, Caleb, I didnt think you’d be ba-”

Another voice cut him off, a female one. “Lance?!” The figure screeched jumping down from the treehouse and right into Lance’s arms.

Alex screamed, too, following behind her. Ida, they realized.

Lance let out an 'oomph’ as he landed on his back, Ida and Alex on top of him. Two more people, Brett and Ronnie, scampered out from the woods, a third behind them. Caleb, they finished.

The three joined the others, all of them shouting.

Finally, Lance stood, Ida still clinging to his neck, legs wrapped around his waist.

Caleb had strayed a bit back, holding a baby in his arms.

“Hi, guys.” Lance goofily grinned, eyes crinkinling at the corners.

Lance’s eyes drifted to the bundle that Caleb held, and he instinctively reached out. Caleb handed the baby to him.

Lance cooed, holding it in tight arms. “Whats her name?” Lance asked, still looking down.

“Her name is Rosemary.” Ida smiles softly, her look proud. “She’s a few weeks old, since she was premature baby.”

Lance sniffled. “Im so sorry for not keeping up my promise.”

“It’s okay. You’re back, and thats all that’s impo-”

Alex cut her off this time. “You’re staying, right?”

Lance frowned. “Oh god, Im so sorry. I.. I cant. I have to go back to space tomorrow.”

Alex cried out in protest. “No! You cant leave again!”

“Im sorry. Ill promise Ill be back when the war is over.”

“War?” Caleb, Brett and Ronnie questioned at the same time.

“It’s a long story.” Lance chuckled.

“We have time.” Ronnie grinned.

“Okay. It all started when a blue lion shot us into the sky..”

—

Ahh I loved this! It was so fun to write. Thank you all again!