#still need to buy a new brush pen

[nsdrawsstuff]

Traditional partner swap au shitpost

[estellan0vella]

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

WC: 11.1K

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're stupid."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Any dizziness? Nausea?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're fucking ridiculous, Minho."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow. "Kind of?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ribread03]

Letter Home

M. Sturniolo

When Matt finds a letter you are writing home about him…

Warnings: making out

THIS IS MY WORK AND MY IDEAS! I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE THIS FOR “INSPIRATION” OR FOR YOU TO COPY!

Ri.talks: this has to be one of my favorite things I’ve written ever! I love the song that goes with it and i even use some of it in the letter that y/n is writing! The word could is a heavy 1.1k 🤭

Also please listen to the song if you don’t know it! The letter will make a lot more sense if you do!

You are sitting at your desk with a pen and piece of paper. You are currently writing a letter home to your mom and dad about your new boyfriend, Matt. Talking about his looks and how he treats you like your are queen.

“Hi Mama,

I met this really sweet guy here in Boston, his name is Matt. Daddy might not like his job, he’s a YouTuber with his TRIPLET brothers. They are both really nice, their names are Nick and Chris. They always have me over for movie nights and just to hang out.

Matt has the prettiest blue eyes. Daddy will like the fact that he opens the door for me any where, the car door, the front door, doors to gas stations, every door you could imagine. He always makes sure that I’m happy and never gives me a reason to cry. He always finds an excuse to spoil me, whether it be getting my favorite take out or buying me a new stuffed animal; you know how much i love my stuffies he loves his the same!

He feels like the right person, my forever. He’s not where we are from but he is everything I could ever need.

He’s recently gotten me to wear Celtics green, it’s his favorite basketball team. I always cheer when he does even tho I don’t watch many sports, I still like to be there with him.

I love you mama,

Y/N <3”

You’re pulled from your thoughts by a knock on your front door. You know it’s Matt, the two of you were going to have a movie night. Getting up from your desk, you quickly make it to the front door opening it for Matt.

“Hi Matt” you say with a warm smile, stepping aside to let Matt in. He is quick to pull into a warm embrace once he is in the door, swaying gently as his arms wrap around your torso tightly.

“Hi,” he says softly as he pulls away from you, a smile on his lips. The two of you walk side by side to your room, hands brushing slightly as you walk.

You don’t stop at your bedroom door, you continue walking to the bathroom. “I have to pee then I’ll be right in,” you say opening the bathroom door and disappearing into it.

Matts POV

I watched as y/n walked past her bedroom door and towards the bathroom. Her voice floats through the air as she tells me she will only be a minute. I step into her room quickly glancing around and finding some of the new little pieces of decor she’s placed in it since I’ve last been in it.

My eyes follow the walls to her desk that is right next to me. There is a piece of paper on it, something thats not normal there. Picking it up I flip it over, my curiosity getting the best of me.

I saw her handwriting, “a handwritten note,” I think to myself. Reading the note I come across my name, then Nick and Chris’s. Once I finish reading the some what personal note back to her mom and dad my heart flutters with love, feeling full of it. I go to place it back down on the desk the way I had found it, but not before she opened the door to her bedroom.

Back to Y/N

“Matt you weren’t supposed to see that!” You quickly say while grabbing the note and bringing it, the side with words to your chest. Butterfly’s filling your stomach as you look at Matt. Your cheeks flush at the thought that he had read what you wrote.

All Matt does and stare at you in what looks to be pure awe. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before speaking, “Y/N I- I don’t know what to say.” You can see the slight gloss in his eyes, “do you mean everything on that?” He points at the paper in your arms.

“Mhm” you hum out, nodding your head lightly; scared that if you talk to loud your voice might break. All of the sudden he smashes his lips on yours, you didn’t realize at first but once you did you started kissing him back. The only sound in the room is the wet sounds of your lips and teeth colliding, for the first time ever.

Matt pulls away from your lips, a string of saliva connecting them still. His forehead rest on yours as the two of you catch your breaths. Your heart is beating fast as you pant along with Matt. “Matt,” you whisper out, still catching your breath.

“You’re writing a letter home about me?” Matts voice breaks slightly, seeming to be surprised about the fact you are writing a letter home to your parents.

“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile. “When it’s something important to me I like to write home.” At your words Matt places another kiss on your lips, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. This one is different than the first, this one is slower as if Matt’s trying to tell you he feels the same towards you; that your special to him to.

Matt breaks the kiss, leaving a few small pecks before he speaks. “That- Y/N, That means so much to me,” his voice is low. Matt kisses you softly again, smiling into the kiss as he does so.

You pull away from Matt, your forehead resting on his again, your breaths mingling. “You’re a good kisser,” you whisper out with a small giggle. Your arms go around his torso, bringing him closer to you.

“Yeah?” Matt whispers with a small smile on his face. You nod your head, your smile matching his.

“Yeah” you say matter a factly, letting out another soft laugh. “A very good kisser.” You place the letter back on your desk, face down just like it was before. You pull away from Matt for good this time, moving to sit on your bed.

“Good to know,” Matt says with a smile, walking towards the bed. He sits down next to you, scooting to be right at your side. You turn the TV on, clicking on Disney+ and scrolling to the Star Wars movies.

The two of you have been having movie nights two times a week since you started dating. Recently you’ve been working on the Star Wars movies, now on the third one. Clicking on the movie, the description starts to scroll on the screen, Matt has made it kinda his thing to read them to you.

You smile as his voice floats through the room, reading every word that slides across the screen. As the movie starts you snuggle closer to Matt’s side, your leg draping across both of his.

As the night continues both you and Matt start to drift asleep. In each other’s arms, the credits of the movie rolling on the TV as a soft snore leaves Matt’s lips. A smile still on your lips as you fall into a deeper sleep in Matt’s arms, the night coming to a quick end.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THANK YOU FOR READING! THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITES AND I FEEL LIKE I DID SUCH A GOOD JOB ON IT!

[2tcs]

Danny’s Journal or A Countdown to the Beginning

Summary: A look into the year leading up to the accident from the perspective of a forgotten journal.

February 9, 2002

Dear journal. Mom and Dad said they had a surprise for me and Jazz when we get home from school. Please God don't let it be another ghost gun or something. My hair is still singed from the last one.

Update. It was, in fact, a gun. Jazz now has a mild burn on her arm and is screaming how they need therapy. Not disagreeing but I don't think it's going to happen.

February 12, 2002

Dear journal. Happy birthday. A year ago Jazz gave you to me for my birthday. How my parents haven't accidentally destroyed you I don't know.

Me Tucker, Sam, and Jazz went out to eat for my birthday. Sam even had her family driver take us a town over to try that new restaurant. Well, that's what their excuse was.  I think they were trying to get me out of the house for a little bit since Mom and Dad are going on a rampage through the house disassembling all the appliances. It's 10 pm and I can still hear noise coming from the basement.

March 26, 2002

I have the best idea for an April Fools prank. It involves chez whiz and glitter.

April 1, 2002

The prank worked like a charm. The jocks are going to smell like cheese for weeks. And they ain't ever getting the glitter out.

On the downside. Dash broke my arm and Mom and Dad put a “Fenton Anti-ghost Cast” on me. It kinda glows and makes my arm feel weird.

April 23, 2002

Sam’s birthday party was a glorious disaster this year. Her mom decided to do a princess-themed party. We have been preparing for this day since Sam found one of her mom’s work journals. We managed to sneak paint and glitter bombs into the venue before anyone got there. We even managed to get one on each of the chandeliers. It was awesome. Everyone got covered in black paint and red glitter. 

What we didn’t account for was Grandma Ida hiring professional snake handlers to bring in a bunch of snakes for Sam. The snakes were non-venomous and luckily were all caught after one of the rich people bumped into the table that the snake cage was on. And the paint was non-toxic so it was easy to clean off the snakes too without them getting sick. Still kinda feel bad that the snakes got caught in the crossfire though.

May 20, 2002

🎵Schools out for the summer!🎵 Lol this is going to be so exciting. Our last summer as middle schoolers. Nothing but the big leagues after this!

June 13, 2002

Dad wants to go camping for Father's Day so we're going to head out tomorrow morning. Think I heard them mention Lake Arrowhead. That'll be cool. Haven't fished there before.

June 15, 2002

I don't know how but we're in Gotham. Apparently, there's some stupid ghost conversation going on so we're going to be stuck here for the next week. On the pulse side though I found a really cool cafe not too far from the hotel. And they don’t seem to care if you just hang out as long as their not busy and you buy something. Me and Jazz will probably be spending a lot of time here or at their library. It’s huge and has an entire section of space!

June 16, 2002

Turns out I'm allergic to something called Blood Blossoms. Mom and Dad ended up having some guy try to cleanse me of “the evil spook” after I accidentally brushed up against the flowers he had on his table. Jazz had to convince them to get me to the hospital. Luckily one of the guys walking around had an epi pen. So that helped. Still sucks and now I'm stuck at the hotel while Jazz frets like a mother hen. I don't think she's even realized that she has a rash on her hand from when she threw the flowers away from me.

June 19, 2002

So… Batman is real… wtf? He apparently has some questions for Mom and Dad but they haven't come back yet. He apologized to me and Jazz for waking us up and gave us suckers? Which. Weird. And Jazz threw them away when he left because “stranger danger is still a thing even if they are a hero”. RIP little Root Beer flavored DumDum. You will be missed.

And on the other hand, Robin was pretty cool. He's snarky and brave and hilarious and he is just so cool. 10/10 New favorite Robin. He even gave me a book recommendation for the report I'm supposed to turn in at the start of freshman year.

June 22, 2002

We were supposed to leave Gotham today. We were supposed to finally head to one of the lakes on the way home to do some camping and fishing. We were supposed to have a relaxing time. So please journal. Can you tell me why the giant wannabe scaly just threw the GAV? Now we are going to be stuck in this stupid city for another week while Mom and Dad fix it.

June 24, 2002

I made a new friend! Do you remember that cafe I talked about a few days ago? Well, I met a guy there. His name is Jason. He’s an absolute lit nerd but is way cool. The guy’s got muscles underneath his school uniform too. The guy looks like he could snap me like a twig yet isn’t at all like Dash. Hopefully, we can keep in contact after we head back to Amity. For now, we are planning on meeting up at the cafe tomorrow with our favorite books. I found “Star Stories”at the library so I’m bringing it with me. I don’t know if he likes stars but I hope he likes some of the stories about them.

July 9, 2002

Finally back at home. Dad had smuggled fireworks into the GAV (how they didn’t explode when KC threw it in Gotham idk) so we spent the 4th of July shooting them off at the lake. We ended up going to Lake Erie for the camping trip because Mom heard something at the convention about a ghost hanging out around there. Didn’t see any ghosts but the fishing was good. I even caught a bass the size of my head! All around it was really fun! Oh and the stars were so clear! The Summer Triangle was so clear you could point out Vega, Deneb, and Altair! It was so cool! Did you know that Vega is in the Lyra constellation? Or Deneb is in the Cygnus Constellation. And Altair is a part of the Aquila constellation!

Maybe I should ask if Mom and Dad could get me another journal for charting the stars. I’ll need the practice if I want to become an astronaut.

July 29, 2002

It’s a good thing that I got two of everything when me, Sam, and Tucker went shopping for school supplies. I got a lot of new space-themed stuff but the moment I got home Dad insisted on ghost-proofing my new backpack… It melted. I don’t even know how he managed to melt a canvas bag. It didn’t even catch fire first. Just started melting the moment Dad started spraying his new “Fenten Ecto-Rejecto Spray” on it. Wtf Dad.

On the plus side, Sam found a new coffin backpack and Tucker was able to get a new bag that had a pouch that he can put the walkman he got yesterday for his birthday. He is so hyped about it. 

August 6, 2002

School starts next week and I am so hyped. Finally going to be a high schooler. Cool Kids Club here we go!

August 15, 2002

Kill me now. May the Gods strike me down and end my suffering. May the Faits find me lacking and cut my string. May the Crone tear me from the tapestry, the mother rejects my thread from the loom and the maiden take the wool of my youth and set it aside.

Sam has just informed me that that isn’t quite what the Mother, Maiden, and Crone do but whatever. Just know that everything sucks because apparently someone called the house phone and told Mom and Dad that there was a ghost in the school. The A-listers are blaming me for ruining their high school debut.

August 30, 2002

Mom and Dad have started making more noise in the lab than normal. It’s gotten to the point that Jazz has been spending more time at the library to study. Speaking of Jazz, she has been obsessing over self-help and psychology books lately. I mean. Jazz has always talked up therapy but now she’s kinda getting snooty about it. Sam suggested we start hanging out at that gazebo thingy at the park so we can get our work done on the nicer days. We’ll have to hang at Tucker's place though on the rainy days. Sam’s parents have decided that it’s time to put their foot down and get Sam to “socialize with your actual peers Sammy-kins so that you can make better connections and start networking” or whatever. So basically Sam’s mom doesn’t want her to be associated with us plebs I guess.

September 8, 2002

Mom and Dad repurposed the fridge so they could put samples in it. Apparently, the one in the lab broke. The green stuff in the tubes kinda creeps me out. Jazz is yelling at them about it. I kinda agree. Cross-contamination anyone? Think I’m gonna eat out at Nasty more often.

September 28, 2002

Either I’m going crazy or the leftover chicken and noodle soup in the fridge was moving. Like the noodles were wiggling around like worms or something. Jazz ordered pizza.

October 5, 2002

There are new wires in the house now and they glow? Mom said that they had some sort of breakthrough and are using the samples that they have to coat some of the tech in the house to “ecto-proof” it. Apparently, the ectoplasm doesn’t like electronics so they weren’t really able to mix it with tech too well. Some of Mom’s blueprints look like Star Wars blasters. Dad’s are less impressive.

October 29, 2002

Mom and Dad have locked me and Jazz in our rooms because of the “Ghost Menaces”. Me and Jazz have both taped warning signs on our windows so some brave trick-or-treaters don’t accidentally get hurt.

November 1, 2002

The signs worked but I saw Mom and Dad taking off in the GAV around midnight. Whatever. Me and Tucker did manage to reach a new level in DOOM last night so that was cool. And it’s World Vegan Day today so Sam is going to take us out to eat at a vegan place for dinner. I have no clue what Tucker’s going to eat. Well probably get it to-go so he can get something.

I found out where Mom and Dad went last night. The cops showed up and gave Mom and Dad a ticket for destroying a part of the park's water fixture. Someone had organised a haunted forest thing in the park and my parents went absolute ape.

November 2, 2002

Who told Mom and Dad about Dia de Los Muertos? Or that there was a little remembrance celebration/party thing going on today because of it? I’ve decided to make deviled eggs in protest of their chaos and have also bought candy skulls to eat.

November 18, 2002

Apparently, there is an Occult Day(?) and Sam insists we spend the day researching cults. Tucker has found a tech cult online that says there is “Techno Magic” and he is now trying to learn it. Sam has found a book of curses and has been giggling since she found it. Sam giggling is terrifying. I am concerned.

November 28, 2002

The turkey came to life and attacked us. Mom and Dad are blaming ghosts but me and Jazz agree that this is totally their fault for putting the stupid ecto in the fridge. At least the rest of the food was edible. I mean. It had a kinda glowing but I haven’t gotten sick yet. So yay?

November 29, 2002

So the food wasn’t good and I ended up getting sick this morning. fml Jazz is mad that I ate some of it. I am fully aware of what food safety is Jazz. But I was hungry and after the turkey, I was just tired and hangry. I had no clue you had ordered pizza so :p

December 5, 2002

On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me! Nothing because my family is insane. Mom and Dad are already starting their yearly Santa argument. Sam and Tuck are both out of town to visit family for the holidays, Jazz is avoiding the house because it’s “disruptive to my mental development” and I’m grounded for yelling at Dad when he burst into my room and accidentally made my little Rover fall off the shelf and brake.

December 9, 2002

Mom and Dad’s insanity is ramping up. They almost never leave the lab now and whenever I try to bring food down to them they either just mumble and keep working or start arguing again. The whole in the wall has a frame now too.

December 24, 2002

I made a mistake when I brought Mom and Dad their dinner today. In my defense, I was just tired of them yelling about Santa. So I asked why they had hazmat suits but me and Jazz didn’t if ecto was so dangerous. Because if it’s that dangerous then the fact we have ecto in the fridge means that we should all have suits. Jazz is furious with me cause now our parents are making us try on our new suits tomorrow. I am terrified of whatever monstrosity they create no matter how “fashionable” Dad claims they will be.

December 25, 2002

It’s worse than I thought. Mine’s white.

January 15, 2003

Gods, I hate this. I’ve been sick for the past week and Jazz says we’re almost out of soup. I keep going back and forth between being hungry and puking up whatever Jazz feeds me. Mom says that she has some tea that may help but when Dad brought it up it tasted funny. It did make me feel a little better but it just had a really weird taste. Dad said it’s just because I’m sick so everything tastes funny right now.

January 19, 2003

Is it weird that I want to lick the ecto in the fridge? I’m pretty sure it is but it still kinda looks lickable to me. Like how you know that D batteries are not edible but almost everyone has licked one at some point?

Jazz just gave me a lecture about putting things in my mouth that I shouldn’t… Again…

January 27, 2003

Jazz scared me this morning. I walked into the kitchen this morning and just saw glowing eyes. Like a cat’s eyes in the dark. Jazz thinks I’m hallucinating from lack of sleep because of the all-nighter I pulled with Tuck trying to pass the next level on DOOM but I swear that her eyes were glowing.

February 9, 2003

I’m starting to worry. I know they're obsessed with their dumb portal but they haven’t eaten in 2 days. Jazz is planning on going down there and persuading (yelling at them) them to eat if they don’t come up for dinner tonight.

February 12, 2003

Happy Birthday to me. I am now 14 years old. Mom and Dad forgot it was my birthday again. They ran into the kitchen this morning because they completed their portal. They even dragged me and Jazz down into the lab to see them turn it on before we went to school. It didn’t work and now Mom and Dad are going to take a drive around town to clear their heads. They probably won’t be back until dinner time. Sam and Tucker are coming over after school though so at least it will be quiet while they are over. And I think Jazz is going to make a cake if the box of mix I saw her trying to hide from me yesterday is any indication. 

[cupidddd-d]

you waste your time on daft pretty boys

in which spencer reid is so smart, but he's so dumb!

if you had a quarter for every time you tried flirting with spencer reid and he obliviously rebuffed your attempts, you'd have enough money to buy a yacht.

at first, it started with you innocently brushing his arm when you had to walk past him. you'd make eye contact with him across the room. he thought nothing of it.

and then you purposely wore a pair of shoes that were practically falling apart, all so you could fall into his arms and bat your eyelashes at him as he caught you. he caught you, but he immediately set you back on your feet, almost as if he was afraid to touch you for more than a second.

"you should be more careful," he laughed, somehow still completely clueless to the fact that you were putting the moves on him.

"i mean, i don't get it! i've been flirting with him all week, and nothing! why isn't he just taking the hint?" you complained to morgan as you slumped down in your cubicle.

spencer being late only ever happened once in a blue moon, but he was late today. and you needed to take full advantage of his absence to pester morgan for advice.

"honestly, you're wasting your time here. if you're not going to be direct with him, he'll never get the hint. the kid's like a robot," morgan shrugged, twirling his pen in the air.

"it's true," prentiss agreed as she walked by, overhearing your conversation. "his iq gets slashed to nothing when it comes to romance. you need to be upfront with him."

"but it's so embarrassing!" you whined, dropping your head on your desk with defeat. "what if he rejects me?"

"the answer's always gonna be no if you never ask," prentiss raised her eyebrows at you knowingly.

you groaned dramatically at her words, weakly slapping your desk a few times to further express your point. "fine, but if he rejects me, i'm changing my name and moving to costa rica. i'll start a new life, and you'll never see me again!" you threaten them both, pointing your index finger at them.

"yeah, yeah," morgan smirked smugly, interlacing his hands behind his head as he leaned back.

"shut up, baldie!" you retorted, just because you had to get the last word in.

"so...spencer," you say awkwardly, standing over his cubicle. everyone except hotch had gone home, and you two were the only ones still working in the bullpen.

"yeah?" his smile was so sweet and so welcoming, but it had never intimidated you before the way it does now.

"um, okay. so basically morgan and prentiss were telling me to be upfront with you because i've been flirting with you like, this whole week, and you haven't gotten the hint yet. spencer, i think you're a great guy, and i really like being around you. do you maybe...want to go out sometime? as a date?" you rambled nervously, feeling a hot blush creep up your cheeks.

you watched spencer fumble for words for what seemed like hours. his mouth parted, then it closed again. he just blinked at you, a little squeaking noise coming out of his mouth as he blushed red, from his neck to the tips of his ears.

"y-yeah, i'd like that! l-like, a lot!" he squeaked, turning a lovely shade of fire engine red. "w-we could w-watch um, a movie! does f-friday work? c-cool, okay!"

he dashed off before you could say anything, but friday did work for you, so you just stood there in disbelief.

"yeah, cool, okay..." you echoed, a giddy smile on your face.

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Raiden Ei, Yar Miko, and Sara kujou

Their love languages

characters: Ei / Yae / Kujou Sara x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Ei

giving

Ei had always appreciated doing things in an uncomplicated manner, her sister had been the ruler and administrator after all, whereas she was a warrior first and foremost. And what was a simpler way of showing affection than to do something for someone else without asking for anything in return. You absentmindedly complain about something? Ei will make sure it’s fixed in a matter of days. Your house got damaged in a storm? Give it a rest and it will look like new by the time you awake. 

Big or small, Ei has your back, because that’s what gods are for, afterall.

receiving

Whether it was because of some need for companionship she had unconsciously developed over the centuries she spent in isolation, the fact that it served as a reminder that you were truly with her and not just a memory or simply her nature, Ei enjoyed being able to feel you. Whenever you held her hand she immediately felt much more at ease and feeling you hug her while you slept kept any nightmares at bay.

So while she may not show it openly, just know you needn’t apologize for accidentally brushing your hand against hers or subconsciously putting your hand on her shoulder when talking to her.

Yae

giving

Believe it or not, but the Guuji Yae can be surprisingly generous when she wants to, assuming one was close to her at least. So while some of her presents came with strings attached or were more akin to white elephant gifts than to anything practical, every so often you’d be greeted with something genuinely thoughtful when you opened whatever box you were given, only to find her smiling at you when you look up.

If there’s one thing she’s good at it’s reading people after all, so don’t look so surprised when she knows what you want better than yourself.

receiving

Receiving compliments and praise was about as new to Yae as a pen was to a seasoned writer, with all the admirers and sycophants any person of influence tended to attract. And yet almost none’s words carried as much weight for her than yours, even if she teased you relentlessly for anything that came out of your mouth. Still, you regained the courage to do it again over and over, no matter how much of a blushing mess you were reduced to last time.

If complimenting her was worth the embarrassment, then there had to be truth to your words after all..

Kujou Sara

giving 

Kujou Sara is a busy woman, from training and maintaining an army to her duties for her Clan time wasn’t something she had in abundance, and yet you would hardly know, considering how much time she spends with you reserving entire days off to be with you or working herself extra hard in order to finish work sooner to come home to you sooner.

So when she choses what little free time she has with you, it means more than a thousand confessions ever could.

receiving

She’ll never say it outright, but a single gift from you can turn an exhausting day into a good one, be it a small trinket she keeps on her person at all times so she has something to remind her of you even when you are far away or any sort of Raiden Shogun memorabilia that she’ll put into her private quarters and treasure with all her being.

It feels good to have someone think of you enough to put a lot of thought into what present to buy for you, after all.

[blissfullyecho]

some spring deep cleaning ideas for your apartment 🤍

today i’m focusing on deep cleaning my apartment because i completely forgot spring started on monday lol. my advice: always give your space a good deep clean at least 2-4x a month (or more, who cares) and always deep clean every season.

clean blinds

clean windows

sweep balconies

clean mirrors

organize under the sink (kitchen + bathroom)

clean inside drawers

move furniture and sweep/vacuum/mop underneath

strip wash your pillows

repaint over scratched walls + patch up holes

organize closet

mop inside the closet

laundry + fold and put away

change ac filter

change water filter (refrigerator)

pest control (i have it included in my rent but because i live in a semi-tropical environment, i do have crawlies come in sometimes so i buy my own pest control and make sure i place it inside and outside)

deep clean litter box

disinfect doorknobs and handles

clean makeup brushes

clean garbage cans and trash cans

wash bedding

dust ceiling fans

clean base of plant pots

wash/clean your sneakers

put your backpack in the laundry

throw away expired food

organize important papers

get rid of wasp nests outside

dishes

oven cleaning

clean garbage disposal

new air fresheners

fresh air from keeping windows open (turn cleaning fans on so the air can circulate)

wipe off computer, phone, tablet, and tv screens

scrub toilets and bathtubs/showers

put things back where they belong

spray and wipe off washer and dryer

sweep floors, then vacuum (i have hardwood all over my apartment and i still vacuum because it’s easier), then i mop (pine sol is amazing— i love the scent).

put in maintenance requests if needed

clean dryer vents

wash sofa cushions and pillow cases (even on throw pillows)

wash mildew off shower liner

get hair unclogged from drain

clean out your car

refill anything like pens, water bottles, etc.

steam clean carpets

have a professional come and clean rugs

clean welcome mat

replace lightbulbs if needed

toss, donate, and keep clothes in your closet and dressers

happy spring

[crabsnpersimmons]

Hello there!

I'd like to know your advice on drawing tablets?

As in, what do you use for your digital art? Is there any you suggest?

I'm planning on getting one, but there are so many options, and I'd like to know your opinion and preference.

Thank you ^^

hi anon! thanks for the question!

i draw with a samsung galaxy tab s7!

BUT if this is your first time drawing digitally, then it's a good idea to test out if you like it with cheaper options first (so you don't drop a whole lot of money on a hobby/medium of art you don't enjoy)

some suggestions:

if you have a smart phone, try drawing with your finger using free to use drawing apps like ibispaint X or HiPaint (i recommend HiPaint cuz the UI is a lot simpler and less overwhelming, but both have a good selection of tools. i wanna say ibispaint has better text tools tho and there's A LOT more tutorials and resources online) drawing digitally with your finger is different from drawing digitally with a pen AND drawing traditionally, but this is a good way to familiarize yourself with digital art tools. a very simple entry point if you already have a smart phone.

if you don't want to draw with your finger (understandable, i personally couldn't stand it) you can try simple drawing tablets, which are the tablets that you plug into your computer/laptop, come with a pen, but they don't have a screen you draw directly on. they're actually a lot more affordable nowadays (i saw some for under $50 CAD, which is WILD), so that’s a good starting option if you want to draw with a pen. with a pen, you have more control with line weights than you do with your finger, but it takes practice to get used to. it also takes some getting use to drawing on a tablet and looking at your monitor, but this is where i started haha. i still have my old bamboo wacom create drawing tablet. but nowadays, other brands like xp-pen and huion are very comparable to wacom, so definitely consider getting a cheaper one to try out first. of course, if you go with a drawing tablet, you'll need an art program on your computer. i've used photoshop and clip studio paint and they're very good, but probably overwhelming for people who are new to digital art (they are loaded with tools and you have to really familiarize yourself with the menus and everything). there are probably simpler options available... but i'm not as familiar with them. oh wait, i think there are some drawing tablets that can also connect with your smart phone too nowadays. man, that's so cool. that's probably a better option instead of purchasing photoshop or clip studio paint right off the bat.

if you REALLY want a screen display experience, try a cheaper general tablet. iPads are a popular option if you're comfortable with the Apple ecosystem (i'm not 😅) but they can be pricey PLUS you have to buy the Apple pen separately. for Android, I'm pretty sure even the Samsung Galaxy Tab S6 is a solid choice and it comes with a pen unlike an iPad. the SPen is built with Wacom tech, so you know it's quality. and while iPad has Procreate, HiPaint is available for Android and it's basically a Procreate clone (i explain more about HiPaint here) otherwise, ibisPaint X is also good and infinite painter is probably the most sophisticated free to use drawing app i've encountered (sophisticated as in it does a pretty good job at imitating traditional media in their brushes. it's cool, but the free version is very limited).

also if you like watching videos, Brad Colbow and Teoh on Tech on YouTube are great resources. they specifically review tech from an artist's perspective.

why i suggest testing it out is because if you're used to drawing traditionally, then switching to digital is a different experience. some artists can't get used to drawing digitally, and that's fine. that's why it's a good idea to test it out with a cheaper option first to see if you like it and to give yourself time to familiarize yourself with drawing apps/programs. i actually kinda hated drawing digitally at first. i didn't have the same level of control that i was used to with drawing traditionally. and overtime i made a lot of bad habits with my digital art that i had to unlearn by switching back to traditional art for a couple years (some bad habits like: relying on the Undo button to make "perfect" lines; trying to draw really fast because the pen glides over the screen unlike a pencil has friction against paper) so... give it a try and just let yourself have fun. don't worry about making anything perfect, just have fun!

[theprismyyy]

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt

Gwen Stacy x Fem!Reader

Tw: Mentions of self-harm, nothing really graphic but still don't read if you don't feel comfortable.

(English is not my first language)

Here's your request, I did my best to keep this interesting without being too extreme (I like lighter stuff), I hope you like it and enjoy @jas-the-shrimp

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ Firstly and obviously, she would be super worried, so...like…basically panicking if she caught you in the middle of it, she would probably need a second to compose herself before she could actually help you; taking a few deep breaths and going to get the first aid kit, sitting cautiously next to you and very carefully starting to inspect your wounds.

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ Who will pay attention to every little wound, whatever type they may be; she will clean and dress quickly and efficiently, trying to make things easier, even if just a little; she would kiss each of her bandages, she would put colored Band-aids on the little bruises and if they were too big for that, she would simply put the Band-aids and small stickers over the bandages.

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ Who would let you cry if you needed to or dry your tears, hugging you close to her chest and giving you the sweetest affirmations of affection.

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ I would think a lot before actually saying anything about the situation, she doesn't want to pressure you and would completely understand if you want stay silent for a while. But assuming you want to talk, she'll be all ears, just letting you open up and sometimes talking back to you gently.

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ Who would do everything to create a welcoming environment for you, respecting your individuality, without ever invalidating or neglect your pains no matter what they are. She always makes a point of highlighting how important and valid two emotions and thoughts are, even if sometimes you may find them silly.

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ Who would care to know the things that can set off triggers in you, so that she doesn't end up accidentally slipping up; The last thing this sweet girl wants is to be the reason for her tears or worse, her bruises. She knows she won't be able to protect you from external events in the world, but she will try to do everything possible to keep you away from stressful situations or situations that she knows can trigger you.

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ God help the person who tells her that her pain is nonsense, she would definitely avoid making a big fuss or getting physical about it, unless the person does it first, but it would definitely give the idiot a piece of your mind.

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ Who always makes a point of helping you find other healthy alternatives to resolve things.

Do you like painting, drawing or just doodling? This girl will make sure to always save a portion of her allowance to buy her things, never missing the most colorful and fun pencils of all, she bought white and colored sheets, sketchbooks, markers colors, paints, brushes and basically everything you need. She gave him a gift set with 12 colors of those colorful glitter pens and it was so adorable.

If you like writing a diary to express yourself I'm sure she would buy you a new one whenever the previous one was full.

Hot and relaxing baths??? It's a complete yes for this girl, she will reserve God's favorite bath products for you, she can come out and let you have fun or just sit on the toilet seat and talk to you quietly or just be silent (for you two, it's not something weird, it's just an intimate and affectionate way of showing how much she cares for you). Now if you ask her to take a shower with you, this girl will triple her efforts, washing your hair, rubbing and massaging your back, whispering words of affirmation in your ear and hugging you affectionately.

She is willing to accompany you and participate in any activity that helps you cope, she just wants you to be well, so: running, dancing, tearing something or screaming, all of this is a big yes for this girl, anything that can help you in a healthy way she would automatically accept.

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ If you take medications for this, she would make sure to always remind your doctors to take them; Gwen knows how medications can affect you and also always tries to be as understanding and calm about it as possible.

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ It would collapse if you ever ended up in the hospital because of it, she would never yell at you for it, but she would definitely hug you strong at the moment when I saw you and I simply cried holding onto you. Seeing you like this just breaks Gwen's heart and she can't even imagine losing you, it scares her so much😭

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ Who would definitely accompany you to the psychologist or psychiatrist's office whenever she could, waiting with you at the reception until your time and still patiently waiting until the end of your session, probably buys you an ice cream after each session. Even when she can't accompany you, Gwen makes a point of sending you a message to know if you arrived at the office safely.

Gwen with a girlfriend who gets hurt —------ Who would just be the sweetest and most understanding girlfriend of all, always willing to help and listen to you. She's so sweet and I just need one Gwen in my life😭😭.

© 2023 theprismyyy — please do not copy, translate or repost any of my work without my permission.

[abiiors]

Book

So excited to do (write) anything that you want to! week with prompts from @imightgetbetter. Adding all of these to my Series Masterlist

Monday - early matty (pre-notes/bfiafl)

In a small corner of a dusty, second-hand bookstore, two hands reach for the same book at the same time. Fingers brush against each other, electricity zings, all the usual ingredients of a meet-cute, except the boy is on a mission. 

‘I’m going to sound like a twat here,’ he shuts his eyes tightly then opens them with a sigh, ‘but I need that book more than you.’

You feel a bit dumbfounded. At least, he has the decency to look embarrassed but the fact remains that he still hasn’t let go of the book. 

‘Oh?’ you ask, still gathering your bearings, ‘you don’t even know what I need it for?’

‘I knowww,’ he groans, ‘but please! I need it back.’

You look at the boy properly. He truly does look desperate for the book. His face is all pouty and his eyes big, his hair sits like a curly, poofy mop on his head. You wonder if this look is supposed to work on people, if it has worked on people in the past. 

Maybe, maybe not. And as much as you don’t want to admit it, it is working on you a little bit. Okay, maybe a lot!

‘You need it…back?’ you give him a quizzical look. 

‘I need it back,’ he confirms. 

‘You see,’ he continues like he’s about to start a soliloquy, ‘my roommate got really drunk or really high, it doesn’t matter, my roommate got fucked up and decided to sell my books for some extra cash. Yes, yes I know, messed up but now I’m here to try to get as many of them back as possible.’

You open your mouth, about to say something, but he’s not done speaking. 

‘Please, I’ll buy you a new copy of this but not this one. This one has some…annotations.’

His face turns pink. His eyes wander a bit, unable to meet yours. And you have to admit, he has almost won you over. 

‘What’s your name?’ You bite your lip, hold back a smile.

‘Matt,’ he says, clearing his throat, ‘Matty.’

‘I don’t need a new copy, Matty. I just needed to check a few passages, that’s all.’ 

‘Oh.’ It’s a soft sound like he’s contemplating. ‘Well, in that case…’ he trails off and holds the copy in front of you. 

His copy of On The Road by Jack Kerouac is old and a bit wrinkled. The pages are yellowing and the spine is cracked but you have to admit, it looks well read. Well loved, even. 

‘I just need to jot down a few things,’ you tell him and he nods. 

When you settle down on the floor, a notebook and pen in hand, he does the same. You wonder if this is to snatch the book away if you stumble upon any of his annotations. He could wander around the bookstore while you did your thing but he wraps his hands around his knees and rest his chin on them. He’s not exactly subtle when he lets his eyes roam over you with barely concealed interest. 

‘What’s this for?’ he tilts his head to one side, and then as an afterthought, adds, ‘if I may ask.’

‘A paper on road trip novels,’ you answer distractedly as you flip through the page to find what you need. 

There are a few pencil scribblings here and there, quotes that are underlined and circled over and over again. There are doodles—few and far in between—but they make you smile a bit. You so badly want to stop and read the annotations but not when he’s sitting right there, watching you like a hawk. 

While you note down the things you need to, Matty gets restless. He picks up a pen and twirls it between his fingers effortlessly, picks up a second one and bangs them on his shins like drumsticks. The boy truly can’t sit still even when he lets you work in peace…for the most part. 

But you’re surprised that you don’t find it annoying. If anything, his fidgety restlessness is amusing. The way he stops every time you turn pages, the way his fingers twitch at his sides, ready to hide anything embarrassing. You feel tempted to linger on one of his notes just to watch how he’d react but they seem to have petered out as the book slowly comes to an end. 

You want to imagine this boy, in his bedroom or in a cafe or in a park, reading the book. His hands clutching it tightly, his face scrunched in concentration. He would be so absorbed that he forgets to note down any more of his thoughts. But something catches your eye as you turn to the penultimate page. 

Black ink has bled through. Until now, everything was in pencil, smudged, messy script but with a touch of gentleness. But this is much harsher, written in pen. 

His eyes widen, his hands freeze in place. Quicker than expected, he drops the pens and flips the page. 

‘What…’ he grabs the book in confusion and you let him take it away from you. His face changes from confusion to irritation, to gloom, to, finally, curiosity. 

His eyes dart over the dark scribblings. A crease forms between his eyebrows as he tries to make sense of the words. 

‘Wow, these are mental,’ he mumbles to himself. ‘God, these make no sense.’

‘I thought they were yours,’ you raise an eyebrow. 

‘No, someone else must have... Mine are much tamer compared to these.'

The curiosity gets the better of you and you have to ask, ‘can I see?’

‘Mmm, sure.’ He extends the book in your direction still holding onto one half of it. 

So you scoot closer, hold onto the other side. Your thighs touch momentarily, your heads are bent over it as both of you try to decipher the script. 

‘1 June, The 1975,’ you read aloud, trace the words with your fingers. ‘That’s a bit of a weird way of writing it.’

‘It is, isn’t it!’ He taps the space under the words, then tips his head back onto the shelves behind him. 

‘The 1975…’ he repeats and his voice has gone all soft and full of awe. ‘Has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say?’

[blakbonnet]

Artist of the Week!

So last weekend, I announced that I'd like to feature an artist every weekend for both new fandom joinees who might not have seen some of this art and older fans who like the nostalgia. This week's artist is Ash @aha-my-villainous-thoughts 💖 who also, wonderful that they are, agreed to answer a few questions for me!

Which App Do You Use To Draw When I’m at my big set up I use Clip Studio Paint, I love it so much. It’s very straight forward to dip straight in, has all of the bells and whistles you need from an elite drawing program, and the community elements where you can see assets and brushes is a lot of fun - although I still to this day have no idea how to earn coins to buy assets?! I use a XPPen Artist 15.6 Pro Graphics Tablet to draw into the program, although my best tip with graphics tablets is to get a screen protector, mine got covered in marks before I noticed. Recently I also got an iPad 10.9 to use as a digital sketchbook I can carry around, and while I am enjoying Procreate, I think CSP is a better art program overall.

Fave Brushes? On iPad I stick to the technical pen, studio pen and the soft airbrush, along with the textures and the light pen. I don’t think Procreate has great ‘painting’ brushes, whereas on CSP I would marry the Gouache brushes, I love how they blend and texture as you work.

Your favourite piece you’ve drawn? I’m a super self indulgent artist, I try to draw the kind of stuff I like to look at, so it’s a lot of colour, a lot of fabric and details. My fave piece for detail is the one I did for the OFMD RBB last year - Crescente Devotione, there’s a blushing sentient stool in it! For colour I’m in love with this sleepy time Ed in a lil negligee and a Holly Golightly eyemask, he's my lock screen because I'm trash.

Who harder to draw: Ed or Stede? Oh for sure Stede. I love Rhys Darby, but the man has like no lips. I stand by this meltdown.

One essential tip for beginner artists? Comparison is the thief of joy, don’t measure yourself against others - particularly when you’re finding your groove. Be self indulgent af. Also get a screen protector for whatever digital screen you draw on, and BACK. THINGS. UP. Whether in an online account, or on an external harddrive - or both?! BACK THAT SHIT UP.

Why OFMD? I’ve been in a few fandoms in the past, always as a pretty passive enjoyer, little fanart here or there, little fanfic sprinkled around, but there’s just something about the way this fandom feels? It feels like a group of friends who’ve got their own lives and their goals, but they still exist in each other's orbit, it’s like this feeling of returning home to somewhere you’re always welcome. There’s so many good moments in the show for both comedy and some gut wrenching pathos. Sign up for the hot guy in leather and get got by this beautiful delicate little love story. It’s something about queer joy of thriving, not just surviving. Something about finding love and romance no matter your age or what’s past before. Something about found family, and unlikely friendships, and community and silliness. I was already a goner when Taika put on the wig, but then when he teared up in a blanket fort while trying not to die? Excuse me sir, I did not need feelings that powerful. It was literally waking me up at night thinking about his last shot weeping in the nook - like are you kidding me?! I’m supposed to finish watching and be normal after that??

[chvnnie]

Thinking about a giant cuddle pile with Chan and Felix and Jisung when I’m sad 😢 just all soft and cuddly with snacks and blankets and snuggles all around 💕

this made my heart really warm 🥺 why not start the day off with something cute and soft

It’s just one of those days where nothing is right.

You woke up late, having to decide between showing up to class on time or brushing your teeth (rip the last stick of gum in your backpack). On the power walk to the science building, you realize there’s a teeny hole in the bottom of your worn out sneakers. Hardly noticeable — until pieces of gravel find it’s way inside.

Oh, did you forget? There’s a quiz today! Open book? What a silly little question, of course you have nothing but your memory to rely on when you’ve only just woken up.

Dropped your coffee literally minutes after buying it. The rice you bought for lunch was cold. Your favorite pen broke, you forgot your water bottle on your rush out. Bad thing after bad thing — it’s a surprise you held in the incoming spiral until you got home.

Their voices fill the hallway. About halfway to your apartment, you pause and take a really deep breath. Normally, Felix inviting his friends over doesn’t bother you. After all, they’re yours too. Jisung you’ve know since elementary school, and Chan you met on your first day of university.

“Shit.” You heard the strange boy mumble beside you, digging through his bag hopelessly. “Shit, shit, shit-“

“Are you okay?” Normally, you’d keep to yourself in class. But he seemed really, really flustered.

“I can’t find my pen. How did this happen? I bought a new pack this weekend and—“

Before he can even finish, you put a blue one on his notebook. Shiny, new. You had gone shopping yourself.

“I’ll give it back.”

He never did, and somehow lost the pen within four classes. So, you gave him another. By midterms, you had bought a pack just for Chan.

From that intro to ethics class blossomed a friendship that you can’t picture your life without. Through you, he met Jisung, and through Chan, you met Felix. The quiet, sweet guy whose roommate broke the lease unexpectedly and really needed someone to fill that vacancy.

Coming home to them is a daily occurrence. One that you typically look forward to. But today. Today you’re exhausted. The tiny apartment is going to be so loud until the early hours of dawn — how much can you take today?

They don’t hear the door open, too busy yelling at each other over Mario Kart. Jisung is losing, and Felix is gloating. The typical.

“Hey, you’re back!” Chan, happily in both the middle of the couch and ranking, flashes you a smile while still focused on the tv screen. “Want in? This race is almost over.”

“‘m okay. Kinda tired.” You force a yawn to make it more believable, dropping your bag on the rarely used dining table. “I think I’m going to take a nap.”

“Are you sure? We—“

“Maybe later?” You’re really trying to keep it together, picking at the skin around your nails. “I just need a bit. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

Chan raises an eyebrow at you, not fully convinced and slightly worried. Deciding it’s better not to press, he just nods, and turns fully back to the game.

You don’t even make it to your bed before the tears start. Body shaking, you change into a comfier set of clothes before lying face down in the center of your big bed. One deep, broken breath and the sobs begin.

Why did today have to happen? Left and right, no matter which direction you took, the outcome was the same. Sucking the life out of you and giving nothing in return.

You feel exhausted. Defeated. Hopeless.

The teeny, tiny knock is barely audible. But the creak, and shutting of the door, breaks through your cries. You don’t move, head too heavy to try and see who it is. They don’t announce themselves either; padding across the room before climbing in the bed with you. Lying right next to you, hiking his leg around your body.

The cologne is a give away. “Come on.” Jisung whispers, coaxing you into his arms. When you grunt, he moves you himself. Head to his chest, pulling you close before covering you both with the duvet.

Remember when you were little, and you fell from the play set? It wasn’t a far drop, but for your tiny body it felt like a lot. Nobody was around, class playing on the other side of the playground. All alone, softly sniffling. Your jeans are ripped, knee poking out and bloodied.

“Ouchie.” You whimper. When you try to stand, you teeter. Unsteady. Painful. How can you get help?

“You went boom.” You hear a tiny voice say, turning around to see a boy your age right behind you. “Did it hurt?”

You nod. “Big ouchie, look.”

He comes over, plops onto the ground next to you. Little brown eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“Woah!” He leaned closer to get a better look. “You’re brave.”

It’s only of the first things Jisung ever said to you, and if you were to ask him to describe you today, he would say the same thing.

Brave. You’re brave. He’s always thought, and always will.

“Want to talk about it?” Jisung is drawing circles on your back, nails digging in just enough to be soothing.

You shake your head, clinging onto to his hoodie. “Just sad.” That’s what it comes down to — it doesn’t matter that you woke up late, and that the world was crumbling with each step you took. When you woke up, you were already aching.

There doesn’t have to be a reason. There isn’t one. Sadness just stopping in to say hello, and overstaying it’s welcome.

Your friend nods, shuffling in the bed to get more comfortable. Mingled breathing is the only sound, soft and easy. Almost lulling you into a much needed sleep.

Fluttering in and out of consciousness, you don’t notice that the tv has turned off. Jisung is just so warm; he smells good, he makes you feel safe. Why pay attention to anything else when comfort is finally hauling sadness out?

A dip in the bed, and you whine, thinking Jisung is trying to leave you. That is, until a board body presses into your back. Holding you from the other side.

“Are you guys napping without me?” Chan playfully asks, tickling your side lightly. Though you smack his hand away, he sees the teeny smile it brings. “That’s rude.”

“So was you cheating in Mario Kart, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

“You’re just a sore loser-“

“You cheated!”

“What is this?” Felix’s voice breaks up the bickering. You look up to see your roommate in the door, jaw dropped in faux shock. “A cuddle party? Without me?”

When you moved in, the apartment smelled like…burning sugar.

The blonde man was in the kitchen, spilling the most vulgar words you’ve ever heard as he quickly puts on oven mitts. You watched from the front door, not wanting to spook him as he takes the hot pan out of the oven.

He brings it to his face, closely inspecting the dessert. They were supposed to be white chocolate brownies, instead they’re as dark (and hard) as coal. With a frustrated sigh, he drops it on the counter.

“For all it matters.” You make yourself known, resisting a giggle at the way he jumps. “It smells good.”

Huffing a laugh, Felix puts his hands on his hips. “Just because we’re living together now doesn’t mean you have to appease me.”

“It’s the truth.” You say, fully entering the apartment. “What happened? Wrong temperature?”

He presses his lips together. “…I took a nap.”

It’s a shame, really. Tragic. You hate for sweets to go to waste — but oh, how you laugh. Leaning your head on his shoulder and staring down at the burned brownies.

“One day you’ll get it, Lix.”

The tupperware container is filled to the top with the same brownies, the lid almost popping off. Quickly abandoning the treats on your dresser, your roommate rushes to the bed.

And lays right on top of you.

While you giggle, the other two men groan.

“Come on, Felix.”

“This isn’t comfy—“

“It’s not my fault you didn’t leave space for me!”

You can feel the youngest man wiggle, trying to get more comfortable and thus torturing his friends. It isn’t the most practical way to group cuddle, but it is the most heartwarming. Smothered in love that you’ve never really felt worthy of, but are forever grateful for.

What was it that you were so upset about, again?

[fablepaint]

Hello! I wanted to ask what brands you like to buy traditional art supplies from. I've been buying Winsor & Newton products along with some Faber Castell stuff and I wanna see what you use and recommend.

Thank you and have a great day! :)

I mix and match depending on needs. People will swear by one brand, and an equal amount of people think it's mid at best.

For example: Windsor and Newton never behaves nicely for me. I live in a primarily hot, dry climate and so working wet consistently is a non-starter. If I'm doing plein air, the paints WILL dry out. And I've found M Graham to be the best quality paint I can purchase in a tube that won't crack when dry, and rewets good as new. It owes this quality to its honey binder. I also love me Beam Paints, an indigenous paint company in Canada that, like M Graham, uses honey binder. It's pricey but one set goes a LONNG way.

I tend to seek out brands beyond Windsor and Newton too because WnN is so common, I just want to see what else there is. And I've been rewarded for that search.

Faber and Castell served me well for an initial set of ink liners (similar to micron), but I'm more in favor of Japanese brands nowadays. Their scripting techniques mean a wide array of accessible drawing tools with the kind of flex and bounce far superior quality to felt tip pens in Western media. They last too. I have 10+ yr old Pentel Pocket Brushes that I continue to use.

I've been having fun watching a lot of Youtube videos by artists describing their preferred materials. Do note: for actual shopping suggestions take them from the ones who draw or paint like you want to. I've seen people recommend Himi gouache all over Youtube, but most gouache painters would give you a litany of reasons why it's not a good investment beyond "fun to play with". Thing is, Himi sends gouache sets all over art-Youtube and whenver you get free stuff, you're gonna want to say nice things in return. Keep that in mind.

But it's still the same advice: get what you need based on your needs. Don't get super expensive stuff if you're just trying out, but don't get stuff that's such subpar quality that you want to chuck the media at the wall in frustration (You want to make that wannabe Jackson Pollock on purpose at least). There's plenty of cheaper and mid-tier media that's perfectly find for long term use.

But an all-around solid recommendation is Canson paper. Canson is imo way better than Strathmore and at about the same price point and just as common. It can take a beating. Get a Canson sketchbook. Any of them are good. I love Canson.

[aerodaltonimperial]

(Junglecorpse, 1.4k ish. In my defense, and I know I say this a lot but it's actually true this time, I am very legitimately going through a lot right now, and I don't know if my therapist would approve of this method of self-soothing or no, BUT whatever, Junglecorpse is one of the few pairings that activates my "MUST HAVE FLUFF NOW" toggles when normally I avoid fluff like the plague. I wrote this snippet a few months back or so for Vamp via chat and expanded it today for Myself™️ so I'm posting it here so I can save it on the masterlist. You do not have to read this.)

“Do you think Tony’s gonna lose his mind and create a new pay-per-view every week?” Jack asks, while thumbing up through his Twitter feed somewhat absently. He’s only got his right hand, as Darby has stolen his left. Darby’s got one of his ink pens, the felt-tipped kind he uses to doodle sometimes, and the brush of the tip against the skin on the back of Jack’s hand is calming. Sometimes Jack ends up with skulls littering his knuckles, other times with swoops and flourishes; mostly, he just lets Darby do his thing. It’s familiar.

“Seems like a bad business model,” Darby replies. His head is bowed, chin turned down as he works. Last week, Jack went out to lunch with his sister with a stylized skateboard heading up against the bump in his wrist bone, and she’d laughed for about three minutes straight.

Jack snorts a little, still scrolling. Doom-scrolling, really, though he’ll never admit that to his therapist. “Yeah, people are gonna stop paying if all they ever see is Hanger and Swerve stapling each other’s chests every single month, over and over again.”

“You may be greatly underestimating the public interest in that.” Darby laughs.

“Oh.” Jack frowns at the back glow, squinting a little. “Shit, yeah, you’re right. Man. Should I start up a homoerotic feud with somebody with the sole goal of getting some really violent death matches?”

“Please don’t let anyone else staple your chest,” Darby says, a bit muffled. The brush pen curls along Jack’s skin.

“Anyone else? Whoa, buddy, stapling me was not on the to-do list for this week.”

Darby snorts. “I like you in one piece, thanks. And I’m not a big fan of watching you bleed all over the mats.”

“Oh, sure, but I have to watch you toss yourself spine first off the posts every Wednesday,” Jack says. He taps the screen again with his thumb, pulling down. Something something official AEW twitter, five clips from the last show, and Stokely buying another celebrity Cameo to woo Kris Statlander. Actually, that one’s pretty funny. He got Barack Obama to do it. Jack didn’t even know Obama had a Cameo.

The brush tip swirls, then taps a few times. “Aw. You gettin’ anxious over me?”

“Well, if you die, who’s going to keep my feet warm at night?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to tell you: wear socks. Your feet are fucking freezing.”

Jack huffs out another laugh. The Obama cameo was hilarious. Stokely deserves managing her at this point. “I don’t need socks, I have your legs.”

“Dick,” Darby grumbles.

“But back to this pay-per-view thing. This is a lot of matches. Having even more on Sunday, every month, feels kind of overwhelming. Like, I need to have the roofing guy come look at my place? And I can’t schedule it because Tony keeps creating new shows.”

“Mm.” Another swoop of the brush, then some lines. Jack glides through an update from Prince Nana that reads truly bizarre, a reblog from Bowens that reads genuinely excited, and a post from Danhausen that’s mostly nonsense ending with ‘you’re cursed.’ “Maybe next week. Your shingles? Or the gutters? I don’t think I remember you talking about any other issues.”

“Just the shingles. After that last wind storm, I think a few came off, and now I’m worried the whole damn thing will come down around me one night.”

Darby huffs out a laugh, but the doodling ministrations on the back of Jack’s hand don’t pause. “I think you’d get a bit of a heads up before that happens.”

“Only if someone is physically there to yell ‘heads up’ at all times,” Jack jokes. Another tweet from the official AEW account, and then a reblog. Sammy posted. Ricky posted. Sammy tweeted at Ricky with a bunch of capslock, Ricky quote-retweeted with a gif of a dancing middle finger, and Jack skips all of that. Let them argue on main if they want to. Sammy’s just gonna try to fall on Ricky from the scaffolding again.

“I’ll do it.”

The drawing on the back of his hand stops. “Oh, yeah?” Jack smiles. “Are you volunteering to always…” He looks down at the doodles on his skin, and freezes.

Adorning his knuckles are a series of curves, vine-like, that curl up towards his ring finger where they create a solid horizontal line, and in the middle of his hand, somewhat shaky, given they were written upside down to be read from Jack’s direction, blocky letters spell WILL YOU MARRY ME.

Jack’s chest constricts. He can’t breathe. With his heart roaring against his ears, he whips his gaze up to stare at Darby, whose expression is maddeningly neutral. “Darby. What the fuck?”

“Okay, that’s… a response,” Darby says, with the tiniest of shrugs and a pinch to his lips. “Think it’s pretty clear.”

“Are you… are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Darby replies, mouth quirking up at the corners. “Yeah, I am.”

“You…” Jack’s tongue is ungainly, swollen. “Oh my god.”

“I’m not hearing an answer.”

“But… why would you…”

Darby drops his eyes, dragging his thumb over the topmost part of his impromptu design in a caress, and his smile never really diminishes. “Jack, what did you think this was? What did you think this was going to be? I don’t do things in halves, I told you that from the get-go. You know me. It’s you and me, and that’s what I want. Forever.”

“Are… are you sure?” Jack’s gonna choke on everything bubbling up from his chest.

Darby’s eyes slide back up. They reflect the lamplight, bright shiny starbursts. “Yeah, Jack, I’m really fucking sure. And if you don’t—”

“Yes.”

Darby pauses, tongue slipping out to press into the corner of his mouth. “Yes?”

“Yes.” Jack laughs, the sound bubbling up through his throat. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

“Holy shit.” Darby’s smile widens, impossibly stretched. “Holy shit. Really?”

Jack grabs for Darby’s face, clutching the sides of his head. He mashes their mouths together with way too much force, but he can’t stop it, because the rattling in his veins has started to sing. Then he pulls away. “You asked, you absolute loon, how did you not expect an answer? Yes, really. Really.”

And then he’s not really sure of much other than the fact that they’re both laughing, euphoric, and Jack doesn’t care about the roof anymore, or the idea of someone stapling his chest, because all that really pales in comparison to everything else, and he thinks ah, that’s exactly how it should be.

His brain starts to catch up with reality, sluggish. “Where are we gonna live? My place, or your place? This is opposite sides of the country, you know. Oh, wow. We’re gonna have to file taxes together.”

Darby laughs, features pulled incredulous. “What?”

“Should we hyphenate our last names?” Jack’s eyes track over Darby’s face: blue, blue, blue, his eyes are so blue. Should they have blue in their wedding? Should they have a wedding? “Should we hyphenate them in the ring? Wait, I have to go to the grocery store today, and I don’t want to wash this off my hand. Should I take a photo? Or wear a glove? Am I gonna look like Michael Jackson?”

“Jack,” Darby laughs again, high and bright. “Darling. Light of my life. You’re such a fucking idiot.”

“I’m seventeen steps ahead again, aren’t I.”

Darby grabs his face between his palms. “Yes. Yes, you are. Honestly, I don’t know where we’re gonna live. We’ll probably just keep both places. Yes, we’re gonna have to file taxes together. No, I don’t know if we’ll hyphenate our names; I really don’t give a shit. Yes, you can take a photo. No, you will never look like Michael Jackson.”

“You don’t have an opinion about our names?” Jack asks.

Darby hauls him closer, until their noses touch. He’s smiling, smiling, and Jack’s smiling, the expression too wide and aching on his face. “Jack, I don’t fucking care. I just want to be with you and your stupidly cold feet.”

“Does this proposal come with the condition that I have to buy some socks?”

“Don’t you even dare,” Darby replies, his thumb gliding along Jack’s cheek a little. “You’re gonna shove your feet between my legs in the middle of the night and jolt me awake like you always do, and I’m gonna fuckin’ love it, every damn time.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a sap,” Jack says.

“Get to used to that, ‘cause you’re gonna be legally stuck with me after this.”

“Awesome,” Jack breathes, and kisses him again.

[delusionaid]

HEADCANONS : click the link to get some random headcanons for your muse.

Diluc is very good at using chopsticks. (Business trips to Liyue? I'm gonna give him a personal hc here and say Crepus forced him to learn how to eat with chopsticks when he was younger so he'd be able to do it as an adult. Diluc loathed it then but is grateful now.) Diluc almost drank the lethal dosage of caffeine once. (Boy has a thing for knocking himself out with drinks, apparently.) Diluc can play the guitar. (*Lyre) Diluc is smart but also very stupid. (I mean..) Diluc is a sleepwalker. (*TALKER. He's a sleepTalker. Kaeya can attest to that from the time he was new to the house and they had to share a room for a while. He usually says nonsensical or incoherent things, but it can be quite entertaining. He never remembers doing it the next day.) Diluc has one, very simple word that they cannot figure out how to pronounce. (I got this 3 times. Must be true. Want to guess the word?) Diluc desperately needs a hug but doesn't know it and refuses to ask for one. (Ok this is actually canon on this blog so well done.)

Wriothesley can play the piano. (I kind of like the idea, to be honest. It's hard to imagine what life with his "parents" looked like. I like both the version where it was really terrible living conditions and they were mostly neglected, but I also like the thought that they had to learn certain things and present a certain way in order to be "of value" to those they were "sent to". So some of them being able to play music could be an idea to play with.) Wriothesley needs a nightlight to sleep. (Hm, not sure about light, but I like the idea that he almost sleeps better when there's noise because he's always had that. First with his "siblings", then living in the street, then the Meropide, and even now the room around him probably makes noise all night long. Silence would be deafening.) Wriothesley's least favourite subject in school was Math. (shrug.png) Wriothesley could easily survive The Hunger Games. (I got this twice so it must be true. Grim.. but I somehow agree. There's some analogy to his life there, I think.) Wriothesley is smart but also very stupid. (WHY DO ALL MY MUSES GET THIS.) Wriothesley likes to eat straight coffee beans. (...Listen, we've all done strange things when hungry.) Wriothesley stole a lollipop at the checkout when they were 5 and they still feel guilty about it. (Nah, he earned that lolly.) Wriothesley is an ugly crier. (You know what, I'll take it. Most people are.)

Alhaitham is tumblr famous (Got this twice. For what I wonder?) Alhaitham is very willing to eat inedible things. (<.< Is this a slight against Kaveh's cooking?) Alhaitham is a dog person. (I disagree, he's a cat person. He likes that they're independent and don't want him to play with them 24/7.) Alhaitham sleeps in until noon. (I think he has, on occasion. He's not an early bird but he isn't (my) Diluc either.) It would not take much for Alhaitham to turn evil. (Literally canon every time he brushes some evil plot and rejects it only because it turns out to be flawed.) Alhaitham is great with kids. (...I mean. Depends on the kid.) Alhaitham has a diary that they write in with a glittery gel pen. (Fun fact, I think if he found a glittery gel pen that wrote really smoothly, he'd use it. Like who cares that it glitters if it's personal notes, the writing experience is pleasant. But he's not going out to buy glitter gel pens specifically.) Alhaitham needs a nightlight to sleep. (I wanna say.. used to need. Now he just sleeps in a bedroom with a window that lets in a lot of moonlight on most nights.)

tagged by: @apocryphis thank you! tagging: @voyagaer @liliavanrouge @dhabibi @nagareboshiko

[godesssiri]

Décor items I am constantly looking for in thrift stores:

I watch a lot of Youtubers who either thrift for a living or do a lot DIY décor content. They all have the most gorgeous homes, and their homes are 90% thrifted. I have a gorgeous home and it’s easier for me to point out the things in my home that I’ve actually bought new rather than try point out all the things I’ve thrifted. Sometimes friends or family will ask where I got something and I won’t bother to answer I’ll just look at them, and they'll realize duh – stupid question. I thrifted it, have you even met me?

I wanted to give you all a list of things I am ALWAYS looking for, things I will browse through in every thrift store and will pick up even if I don’t know exactly how I’m going to use it, I just know I can use it somewhere.

Frames. OMG Frames! Never buy them new! I have bought some of the ugliest framed crap you wouldn’t believe. But the frame was great. I bought my brother a portrait of a little girl that I’m pretty sure is haunted, but the frame was stunning antique oak that goes perfectly with his style and the creepy little girl could be easily removed - and it was so cheap, probably because the little girl was so creepy. If you want to frame something, go to the art section of the thrift store and ignore what’s in the frames, just look at the frames themselves. Chances are you will either find something that’s perfect as is or that just needs a bit of spray paint to make it perfect. I will always look through the frames even if I don’t have anything that needs framing. I have a stash of great frames on the highest shelf in my wardrobe, I don’t have use for them yet, but I know as soon as I want to frame something I can just go shop my stash and find something perfect

Plant pots. I will pick up new ones when I see a gorgeous one that’s in my price range but 90% of my plant pots are thrifted. The thing is you can put a plant in ANY vessel if you get creative. And you do find a lot of actual planters at thrift stores, but the good ones go quick, so you have to be ready to grab when you see a nice one. I have a huge collection of 80s post-modern pastel ceramic pots and guess what’s come into fashion in the last couple of years? 80s style post-modern pastel stuff. I’ve also found gorgeous Victorian jardinieres in thrift stores that have snuck past the people doing the pricing because they’re transferware and they don’t realize that transferware can be that old. You also come across piles of modern generic cover pots, you know the ones for the gift plants you see at the supermarket or florist or hardware store? People get gifted a plant in one of these generic pots, they either kill the plant or it thrives and needs to be re-potted, and they send the gift pot off to the thrift store. You can give these a makeover with a paint pen, or one of my favorite things to do with them is hot glue them to a glass candle holder with a wide stable base so you end up with a goblet look – it instantly both literally and figuratively elevates them.

Curios and oddities. I’m a collector of curios and oddities and let me tell you, if you are going to a specialist store that stuff is pricey. But if you scour thrift stores and pick up any weird thing you come across you can quickly build up a collection of the strange and unusual that will delight any weird loving freak. But even if you don’t love the things that edge on creepy like I do then still keep an eye out for things that are a bit quirky, a bit odd. Every home needs something that’s a bit left of normal.

Trays. I have a variety of trays that I have on various surfaces to corral small things, one on my dresser for lotions and potions, one beside my sink for the dishwash and scrub brush etc, one on the side table next to my couch to hold all the little bits I want to be able to access easily but they look messy scattered across the table. I can’t pass up a good tray, I bought a nice solid brass one earlier this week with no idea what I was going to do with it, I bought it home and it’s perfect for my coffee table to hold my coasters and a little posy vase of flowers and a pretty bowl to hold the jewellery and hair clips I will inevitably discard there.  A good tray can take a random assortment of practical items from stressful mess to pleasingly organized in seconds. They’re another thing that you constantly come across in thrift stores and also something that’s easy to do a thrift flip on if you can’t find one that fits your aesthetic.

Candle holders. There are soooooooooooo many candle holders of every description at the thrift store. Whatever your style you will find something. I actually rarely use them for candles, I like to buy ones meant for chunky candles and use them as plant stands to elevate small pots. Or get tall beautifully shaped candlesticks and display shells or crystal spheres or air plants on top. Some of them are so sculptural and beautiful they look great just on their own. They’re a fantastic display item whether you use them for their intended purpose or not. And if you like the Dark Academia aesthetic that is everywhere right now they are your best friend. I have never walked into a thrift store and not stumbled across a candle holder of some description – never.

Decorative storage. When I want to increase my storage by storing stuff out in the open in a place people will see, I look for vintage wooden boxes, cool old suitcases, pretty pottery canisters, interesting vintage baskets. When you wander around the thrift store looking for things you can put stuff in, a whole world of pretty possibilities opens up. Wooden boxes are my catnip, I have so many but will never pass one up if I like it. And if it’s an old cigar box with pretty graphics and peeling labels then my heart goes pitty-pat. Pretty canisters you can have on your bench means you have more space in your cupboards to hide the ugly practical stuff. I have a gorgeous old leather briefcase that holds important documents and small things I Do Not Want To Loose, I have ADHD and I'm more likely to remember where my birth certificate or great-grandad's pocket watch are if I keep it them in something I actually like looking at.

Glass display items. I love to display stuff beneath/behind glass because dust. Glass domes and glass display boxes and shadowbox frames are all either A) freaking expensive or B) hard to find or C) both. I’m always thrifting display items that I can rip out whatever is currently in there to display my own stuff. I’ve bought 6 Anniversary Clocks for their glass domes and brass bases; I usually get ones that the clock itself is plastic and it’s super easy to take it apart with a screwdriver. I’m also constantly buying the ugliest shit in shadow-box frames because it’s usually easy enough to open up the frame and get the ugly crap out – dear lord the crap they put in shadowboxes in the 90s. I will buy ugly souvenir stuff for their glass display boxes and will break the glue holding them closed and pull out the tourist tat. I have a couple of glass globes that have come with ugly artificial flowers in them and they’re usually cheap because the flowers are so ugly, but it’s easy enough to open them up and clean them out. Glass trinket boxes are another awesome display item, and there’s been a trend for them in recent years so they’re turning up more and more often, they’re not very practical for everyday storage because you can see everything in them and they look messy, but if you’re only using them to hold carefully arranged pretty things then they look amazing.

Bases, plinths, pedestals. I mentioned I buy pillar candle holders to elevate plant pots but basically, I’m always on the lookout for stuff I can put stuff on top of for display. I’ll buy any candle holder I can put something on top of, any wooden box that can be used to elevate stuff, cake stands don’t just have to be used for cake. Onyx ashtrays are perfect for lifting things a little and if that something has a slightly curved bottom, like a large seashell or a crystal geode, then sitting it in the depression of the ashtray stabilizes it, or if you need a flat surface flip the ashtray over and use the bottom as the top. If you’re lucky, you’ll come across bases actually meant for décor and they always make things look just that little bit classier. Displays always look better when you vary the heights of objects so I’m constantly looking for things to lift my pretties and it all looks so much more interesting when you use an assortment of vintage bases.

Vases. I have a vase problem, I know I have a vase problem, I do not care that I have a vase problem. I mean 16 on one shelf isn’t too many right? I promise it’s a huge shelf with lots of space for them. There are so many beautiful ones out there. So many that are gorgeously hand painted. So many interesting shapes and colors. So many that have been carefully looked after and passed down through generations but have gone to someone who it’s not to their tastes so they can now be your treasured antiques. So many that are modern, mass produced and worthless but ripe for a thrift flip to fit you exact style.

Books. Before anyone @s me about people who use books just as décor, there are good reasons to use some books purely as décor. I collect antique books, specifically natural history ones but I’ll consider any reference book with beautiful covers and illustrations. Most of these books are now inaccurate, I’ve got books that talk about extinct species in the present tense, Atlas’ that were produced between the 2 world wars that are not even in spitting distance of accurate anymore, archaeology books with laughable theories. Also, a lot of my books are fragile, there’s some I barely dare to open because pages are falling out and the binding is perished or the cover is loose, the safest place for them is sitting on a shelf just looking pretty. I also collect children’s classics purely out of nostalgia, I make it my mission to find the prettiest and/or oldest editions I can get my hands on. I doubt I’m going to sit down and re-read the Pollyanna books or the Little Women series but seeing them on my shelf takes me back to those pre-teen days devouring every classic I could get my hands on, mostly in paperback form because those books have been re-printed again and again. If a book is lovely but has no real value as a book anymore either because it’s inaccurate or too fragile, or if it’s had a million re-prints, why not have it as décor? Décor is meant to give a home a feeling and what inspires more feelings than books?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4