#this is seems like such a silly essay at first glance but…

[spelllingandthemysteryschool]

My Little Pony was a figurine copyrighted by Hasbro and first produced in 1982. Based on My Pretty Pony, a larger and clunkier toy with unimpressive sales, My Little Pony was, despite the singularity baked into its name, always plural. There was no “pony,” never a one. Only ponies—many ponies, always proliferating, mutating, re-accessorized. Earth ponies and sea ponies and winged ponies and, of course, unicorn ponies. Each pony with its distinctive not-to-be-found-in-nature shade, its shimmering corn-silk plastic mane, its rump printed with an allegorical symbol, a.k.a. “cutie mark”: ice cream, clover, seahorse, stars, flowering plants, and on and on, emojis avant la lettre. The ponies’ bodies were plastic. For now, the ponies would not decay, although fire might melt them or a car wheel crush them. Their eyes were round and bedecked with long lashes. The irises were illustrated in such a way that each pony eye appeared perpetually brimming. Highlights, as on a meniscus of dew, were standard. The ponies might weep soon. They might cry for joy. They might look in your direction.  The ponies lived in Ponyland. It is not clear where they came from nor how they reproduced. They were of course inside the television, part of a twenty-two-minute weekday cartoon show called, fittingly enough, My Little Pony, and thus inhabited a visual realm, temporally constrained, yet constantly available if one had a VHS system and knowledge of how to record. They were material, as stated. They were moving images, as stated. They could be purchased and held. They could be watched. They were very smooth, seamless, without any roughness. One might run a hand down their necks, across their shoulders, along their backs. One might brush their plastic-scented, flower-colored hair. The myth-world of My Little Ponies was of a part with other myth-worlds of the mid to late eighties: the land of the Care Bears; the stationery empire of Lisa Frank; the intergalactic realms of She-Ra, of Wildfire the magical horse, of the ThunderCats. These myth-worlds ebbed into one another and got confused; it did not matter that they originated with unaffiliated copyright holders. They had rainbows, lots of rainbows, and craggy cliffs and lush forests and desert planets with buried fortresses, and were elsewhere, always elsewhere, beyond the sky or the solar system. You did not attain these places by walking down the street. They were like heaven, although no god was present. Devils aplenty: deranged scientists and bitter witches and space dictators and reanimated corpses with surprisingly good social skills were available to frustrate bliss. But there was no singular author of the good, no logos. There was only a puffy, sparkling spirit that cheerfully resisted death, corruption, and gratuitous violence—the ponies were mild imps who lived in terror of a Christian Satan. They always won out but it was by no means certain they would survive. These were the terms of the contest: a shimmering tribe of hunter-gatherer horses versus a citadel-dwelling autocracy equipped with what I now take to be early sixteenth-century levels of technology and opposable thumbs. You collected the ponies. You displayed the ponies. You made the ponies move and speak. You had them interact with She-Ra or perhaps Panthro, your favorite ThunderCat. You watched the cartoon series and the mediocre animated movie. You understood the personalities in question, the greater stakes. You sided with the good. You experimented with the struggle of the good and caused the plastic bodies to crash into one another. You brushed their tangled silky hair and sometimes cut it off with safety scissors.

— Lucy Ives, “Of Unicorns: On My Little Pony”

[anisangeldust]

————————————————————————-

Office Hours 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: Anakin definitely has a favorite student.

Pairing: Prof!Anakin x Student!Fem!Reader

Warnings: READER IS 18!, masturbation (m receiving), mentions of sex, no use of ‘y/n’, undertones of grooming.

A/N: Ik this shouldn’t be glorified, but i also crave for an older man to tell me he’s proud of me and that i’m doing a good job <\3. Also i hope the perspective changes make sense in this!

PART 2 HERE!

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Anakin loved grading your work, in fact, he set aside your papers so he could grade them together.

He taught a required course, one that all student who wished to have a degree in anything to do with English had to take and pass. Some hated it, most just did their work and got their grade.

But not you.

You cared, Anakin could tell. you were always on time, you were attentive, a gifted writer, a wonderful person, and a great student. On top of all that, you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

At first he kicked himself for his feelings, telling himself it was inappropriate, that it was wrong, how dare he think about one of his students like that! But you were 18 and he was only 32, that’s not so bad right?

The more he stared to feel about you, the more he let himself think about you. How could he not? When you always wore little pink bows at the back of your pigtails, when your lips were always pink and glossy, your cheeks always flushed when he’d compliment your work. You were truly an angel, perhaps a goddess; but that didn’t matter to him.

He’d worship you either way.

The ding of a clock indicated that he had 30 minutes to grade before his next class started, the class you were in, and he dug into the pile of ungraded work like it was the best book he’d ever read.

The last assignment Anakin gave was easy but long, a research paper on a book of your choice. Then you had to take notes on your work and turn in the paper and notebook.

He was giddy with he saw yours, the essay neatly tucked into the cover of the notebook, adorned with a small smiley face on the corner by your name. Anakin saved yours for last, a little treat he reminded himself as the other students’ work was less than savory.

When he got to yours he opened it up and almost groaned with excitement. never would he be over how neat and tidy your handwriting was, nor the fact that you wrote the whole thing in with a crisp, pink ballpoint pen.

Your work was superb, as always.

Anakin could have cum in his pants from how careful your essay was, the time and detail was apparent as he read through your incredible notes. He read both over and over again before the filing in of students reminded him that class was starting soon.

He wrote a few notes on your work and put it in the stack of graded notebooks to hand back.

————————————————————————

“Brilliant work as always clever girl”

The words seemed to jump out at you, they were right next to the big red 98% on the corner of the essay you just got back from your favorite professor.

Surely it meant nothing, he was a professor, an educator, he was meant to praise those who did good, so why when directed to you did it always feel so different?

‘Maybe i’m just better than the people in here’ was the thought that jumped forward in your mind, of course your professor didn’t have a crush on you! what a silly thought to even entertain!

Yet his glances at you when you left the classroom, and the fixing of his pants when you smiles and waved at him made you think otherwise.

————————————————————————-

Anakin was rock hard when your class got out. the look on your face when you saw your final grade and the little note he wrote was enough to make a lesser man moan out loud. The way you chewed on your nail the rest of the class and jotted down notes had him sitting down so his erection was less apparent.

Naturally, he wasted no time when the day ended.

He quickly discarded himself of his blazer before sitting in his desk chair and unzipping his pants, his aching dick slapping against his stomach as he pulled down his boxers and immediately started rubbing the pad of his thumb over his leaking tip.

He wondered what it would feel like if it was your cunt, the mewls that would erupt from your throat, the desperate movement of your hips as he pounded you into his desk, the wet slapping of your arousal, god he craved you.

After gently teasing himself for a few moments, he fully wrapped his hand around his full length and began to messily jerk himself, your name falling from his lips like a sacred mantra.

The moment felt so good, the feeling of his hand was heavenly against his aching length, it was so good that he began to wonder what he could do to get you to let him fuck you, asking you up front could lead to him losing his job, no.. he needed privacy, he needed to know you wanted it to.

Ropes of cum spurted from his fat dick, the moments of clarity allowing him to think of the most perfect scheme.

————————————————————————-

The flutter in your heart was almost painful, you had ran the moment over and over again in your mind. Double, triple, quadruple checking that you weren’t crazy, that your beloved professor did, in fact, call you sweetheart.

If you were a man you’d 100% have a boner right now.

All you did was mention how you were proud of yourself for your grade on your last assignment, you were not expecting your beloved Professor Skywalker to quip back with-

“I’m proud of you too sweetheart”

-you could’ve cum right there, and you might’ve if you didn’t race out of that classroom like someone was chasing you.

This was wrong, horrible, ghastly. Though he wasn’t married, he had a tendency to ramble during his lectures, he was still 32! a whole 14 years older than you! But no amount of self-scrutiny could stop you from wanting to tangle your hands in his shaggy blonde curls while you rode him like a stallion.

———

The next few weeks felt interesting to say the least.

It seems your professor was un-aware of how much he was affecting you. the semester was coming to a close, so he rid himself of his blazer to prepare for the summer air, dawning only a white button up that displayed his back muscles the way they deserved.

You wanted to rip him apart, claw at his back until it was bloody and raw, suck on his skin untill you were the only thing he could feel, you wanted to destroy him, the only stronger feeling in your system was your want for him to destroy you.

His little notes also changed. It went form standard teacher notes like:

Awesome! or you did great!

to ones you could tell he only left on your paper, adorned in the corner of everything you got back was:

good girl, i’m so proud, i knew you could do it princess

It was getting too much to bare, he even started to touch you, to let his hands linger. Like when he passed you in the library and places his hands on your hips to move by you. It was too much.

He had to know what he was doing right? he had to know that you were rubbing your pussy raw to the thought of him, gridding pillows and hooking up with random boys that had similar mops of curly blonde hair and piercing cobalt eyes. he had to right?

He did.

————————————————————————-

Anakin knew he had you. Weeks of teasing, testing the waters, leading you to him, and you finally took the bait.

When he opened his E-Mail this morning and saw one from you he almost jumped out of his skin. it was professional, just you saying that you’d like to chat about your grades, but he knew, he knew the moment you walked in that you were his, that you’d do whatever he wanted.

It just so happened he was unavailable the rest of the day after you scheduled your office hours.

———

Anakin groaned, he thought maybe he could wait, that he could hold in his desires for after you two spoke, but he just couldn’t. He was uncomfortably. hard, his whole body was shaking from need, and it was still 5 minutes until you had scheduled to see him.

despite his better judgments, he undid his belt and palmed himself through his boxers, it felt so good, his balls were heavy with need and the tiny wet patch indicated that he needed to get off, now.

Yanking down his boxers, he did the same thing he did everytime he was alone with the thought of you, his hand pumping up and down his fat cock. The only thing he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat in his ears. he was so deaf, in fact, that he didn’t hear the rattle of the turning knob to his office door.

“Professor Skywal-“ your voice was sweet like velvet. His eyes shot open.

shit.

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[justsalpals]

Me, staring at the ceiling: It's silly how much I'm getting caught on that one line from Verosika in House of Asmodeus. She very firmly claims Blitzø "did no reciprocatin'" and from her attitude seen in Apology Tour I don't believe she would lie about that. At first glance this lines up pretty easily with what we know of Blitzø, namely his selfishness, disconnect with relationships, and tendency to push everyone away in his self-loathing. Aligning these known behaviors with Verosika's testimony of his sexual habits does track, however-

While we can gather that Blitzø has had many a sexual partner in his time, likely communicating poorly with all of them, the one we have the most window into his sex life with is Stolas. And they pretty explicitly have a BDSM relationship wherein Blitzø acts as dominant, quite often featuring restraints, blindfolds, and gags. A role which would require a lot of work and focusing on his partner, and always seems to leave Stolas quite satisfied in the end. These two views of Blitzø seem contradictory: is he the self centered imp who won't go down on his girlfriend, or the attentive dom whom Stolas can trust to surrender control to for their full moon trysts?

My cat: :3

Me: I've come to the conclusion that he is indeed both. Think back to Blitzø and Stolas' first encounter as adults. As we all know, Blitzø did not enter that interaction with a genuine intention to fuck that bird. He was purely seducing for distraction and thievery purposes, tying Stolas up only for the sake of absconding with the grimoire. The blindfold, the biting, it was all a ruse that he just sort of stumbled his way into in the moment.

I'd go so far as to argue: this is not the typical way Blitzø had sex up until that point. While indeed being the more experienced of the two, I believe in that moment Blitzø was just as clueless about BDSM as Stolas.

My cat: -screaming for food-

Me: shush shhh wait a sec I'm going somewhere here.

In it's own way though, isn't that beautiful? Even though their relationship started as strictly sexual, through each other Blitzø and Stolas both discovered a new side to themselves that they hadn't considered but clearly enjoy. Blitzø was put into a position where he had to consider his partner to a degree he hadn't in the past, had to have someone put their trust in him, knocking him out of his comfort zone and into something more vulnerable than he'd let himself express in the past. While I doubt they've been entirely SSC or responsible with each other along the way, I think them both fumbling into this dynamic and trying desperately not to appear inexperienced to the other is a beautiful mirror to their later romantic relationship and in this essay I-

[mycenalucentipes]

Panicked Confession

Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Pansy Parkinson has been picking on you ever since she found out about your troubles and little crush on Draco Malfoy. Pansy’s bullying wasn’t even the worst of your problems though. Life is just… You’re distraught. Everything feels wrong. You feel wrong. Something isn’t right and you don’t have anyone to turn to for help. It’s all too much. You just want to collapse. 

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, bullying, breakdown, cursing, panic attack, su!c!dal thoughts, one minor mention of blood

Word count: ~2.3k

a/n: Fluff at the end! I love Draco so much. Maybe I'm self projecting onto Y/n, but I too, would love to be hugged by Draco Malfoy at Hogwarts lol 

It was during dinner that Pansy fucking Parkinson decided that you would be her victim tonight. Somehow, she found out about all of your insecurities and your teeny tiny crush on the Slytherin Prince. Pansy was not about to let another girl try and “steal him away” from her. Though he wasn’t Pansy’s. He wasn’t owned by anyone. That’s just ridiculous.  

Weeks prior to the abuse, at the beginning of the term, you and Draco got paired up (Much to Malfoy’s dismay) for potions and then for an essay in transfiguration. Although arrogant and snobbish at first, you somehow managed to get Draco to warm up to you. Perhaps the kind little smiles and waves you gave him as you entered or exited the classroom. You didn’t show fear when he approached, nor an undying love for him. You treated him like a normal person and were quite competent at your work. 

Which is how you somehow ended up here.

“You useless little, filthy, half-blood bitch! Why are you still here? Hm? Why show your face, you’re such a disgrace to the wizarding world!” She spat at you while leaning over your shaking figure on the ground. Pansy and a couple other Slytherin girls decided to drag you into the bathroom during dinner. “He’ll never love you. You’re a fucking Hufflepuff of all houses. He won’t even glance in your direction!” They screamed and cackled in your face. 

They pushed you over, tore your robes, pulled your hair, and kicked you to and on the ground. Believe it or not, Pansy and her friend’s bullying wasn’t the main cause of your worries. You could care less about them in all honesty, but this semester has been rough. Your mind was letting their words get the better of you.

Recently, you really were beginning to believe you were just a good for nothing waste of space. You should just squash your silly little crush like a bug, right? Kill it. Before it consumed you further. It was this night, where you truly believed their words. That you never stood a chance in gaining Draco’s love and affection. You wanted to escape reality. You wanted nothing more than to finally escape school and home life. 

After they thoroughly beat you down, they left you to your own despair on the cold, hard bathroom floor. You needed an escape from reality tonight. Your mind was getting worse, growing weak, why couldn’t you handle it anymore? You took off running. Not back to dinner in the Great Hall, but to the highest place where you could escape the chatter, murmurs, gossip, insults, all of it.

You clumsily ran up the stairs. To the top of the Astronomy Tower, that was where you were headed. Everything was crumbling inside of you. You’ve tried so hard, yet nothing seems to be working out in your mind. Your mind was falling into a hole that you weren’t sure you could climb out of. So deep, so far away.

Sure, you looked okay from the outside. Nothing was actually falling apart on the outside, maybe except your appearance. But your grades were good, professors liked you, you had a few good friends, maybe your family wasn’t all that perfect, but they weren’t physically abusive. Even if things hadn’t started so great, they were ending up alright. So why were you so broken still? Was it the past years of trauma that you’ve hid from? You couldn’t figure it out. Everything was too much, you couldn’t breathe. 

Reaching the top of the Astronomy Tower, breathing erratic, you flung yourself to the railing. Not to jump over, no. Just to hold onto something tight, to try and gain a sense of reality back. Your whole body was wracked with shivers and the occasional sob that you tried to hold back. It was growing difficult to contain any semblance of sanity that might’ve been left in your panic stricken mind. Was the world caving in? Or was it your conscience?

Your thoughts were a cacophony of anxiety, they clashed and clamored around the inside of your skull. They’ve longed to break out and be free. But you were scared to let them out and be seen, to be heard. You didn’t want to be vulnerable or “attention-seeking”. So, what could you do, other than just bottle it up? Tonight though, you shouted. You shouted over the edge of the railing at the top of your lungs until your voice was hoarse. 

Tears spilled over the edge of your eyes as you kept shouting. Some screams were just pure screams, others were just insults to throw into the void. Hiccups here and there from the violent sobs that wracked your trembling frame. It was piercingly cold, but you couldn’t feel anything, just pure numbness. 

As your voice ran dry of screams and cries, you sunk to the ground. Bringing your knees to your chest, you kept sobbing. Unable to hear any outside sounds from the static in your ears that buzzed so intensely, you never heard Draco approaching you. 

Draco thought it was a little odd that Pansy and some other Slytherin girls took you out of the Great Hall. He was pretty sure he saw them drag you out, but maybe that was his mind exaggerating. He somehow grew a soft spot for the little Hufflepuff girl. Draco didn’t understand how you did it, but all he knew was that he cared for you and liked you. A lot. 

After thirty minutes had passed and you still had not re-entered, but Pansy and her friends did, he grew slightly worried. They looked smug, too smug to be innocent. He had to go find you, as this was not like you to just leave your plate untouched, or so he thought. Draco stood up abruptly from the table, his silverware clattered from the sudden movement. 

“Oh, Dracy~ Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Pansy tugged at his sleeve with a doe-like look. 

“Buzz off Parkinson. This doesn’t concern you– Or maybe it does?” Draco yanked his arm back and out of Pansy’s grasp. He shot her a sharp glare and snarled out, “Do you have any idea what might’ve happened to Y/n?” A look of fright flashed over Pansy’s features. She did her best to play innocent, but that one second of fear was enough for Draco to understand.

“I have no idea where that filthy little Hufflepuff could have gone. Why would I care? Why do you care? She’s not worth your time! She’s a bloody Hufflepuff!” Pansy shot back, desperation in her voice as she tried to convince Draco to stay. 

“Parkinson, just leave her alone! You have no right to meddle in my business and relationships! Don’t you or anyone else ever lay a fucking hand on her again.” Draco growled back. He stormed out of the hall in a hurry, not caring that Pansy was calling for him, or that other students were starting to stare. He had to make sure you were okay. 

He burst into the girls restrooms, not caring that he wasn’t a girl. All that he was able to find in there were scraps of your papers from your bag on the ground and a few specks of blood here and there. Draco huffed in frustration, then quickly left the bathrooms. He wasn’t quite sure where to start looking for you, this school was huge! He’d never known you to be in distress or anything more than anxious for an exam. You never showed him any signs of this happening. He opted to just start walking, he would cover more ground than just standing around. 

The Astronomy Tower. That was his first choice, he figured that might be the best option. He would occasionally visit the peaceful place in the late hours of the night to clear his mind. As he ascended the stairs he could hear strangled, painful sobs. He knew it was you. His pace quickened and he was soon bounding up the stairs to rush to your side. 

Once he reached the top, his eyes flicked around, looking for you. It didn’t take long until his gaze landed on you by the railing, huddled up to your knees, rocking back and forth. Draco cautiously approached you, not wanting to spook you. Slowly, he knelt down beside you, one knee touching the ground, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“Y/n?” He started out, his voice gentle and full of concern. Your eyes shot up to him, panic swimming in them. His heart clenched at the sight of your frightened form. You saw his lips moving, but could not hear a single thing coming out of them. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong? Can you speak to me?” His worry grew as you weren’t responding to him. Only looking into his eyes with tears pouring from yours. “You’ll be okay. It’s alright, Y/n. I’m here for you…” He kept whispering out sweet little reassurances. Eventually your hearing came back to reality, however your breathing was still erratic as you cried. 

“Y/n,” Draco’s voice slightly wavered with concern, “can I hug you? Is that okay?” His words, soft and comforting, offered deep compassion for you. He understood that it was difficult for you to communicate in this state. Still overwhelmed, you mustered a small nod. Quickly upon watching your answer, he drew you into a tight embrace. You felt the warmth radiating off of him that shielded you from the harsh winds of the cold night. You could feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest and the steady sound of his heartbeat. 

“Follow my breathing if you can.” He whispered sweetly, while rubbing small circles into your back. Gradually, you were able to follow along, calming your breathing and senses down. Though the tears still fell thickly from your eyes, the hysteria was gone. Eventually you found your voice. 

“D-Draco, w-why are you up here?” Your voice was rough from tonight, cracking part way through your question. Your body was still shaking, but less so than before. 

“I was worried about you when you didn’t come back to dinner,” He sighed with worry laced in his voice. “I saw Parkinson and her friends saunter back in, but you weren’t there.” He continued to explain what happened between him and Pansy. His voice grew angrier and tenser with each sentence. He was breathing heavily when he finished explaining how he found you. 

You froze for a couple seconds, then snaked your arms around his waist, hugging him back. “Thank you, Draco.” You said with a small voice, “I-I’m sorry you had to see me like this. Everything became too much for me, and I– I just–...” Draco calmly shushed you as you struggled for words, one of his hands now stroking the back of your head. 

“It’s okay, Y/n.” 

“Thank you again, I just love you so much, I–” You paused, realizing what you just said. Flustered, you pushed yourself back a couple feet from his hold, looking anywhere but him. He stumbled back off his knees a bit, now sitting on his bum, looking flustered as well. Not quite as flustered, but blushing red nonetheless. 

“Y-you love me as well?” He asked, voice quiet, needing confirmation that he heard you correctly. 

“Umm, yes. I-I do quite fancy you, Draco. It’s okay if you don’t, I– Wait did you say ‘as well’?” No it was your turn to stare in shock, thinking about what he just asked. “Since when?”

“Since we had to write that transfiguration essay together.” He confessed, shyly rubbing the back of his neck. “I only recently came to terms with my feelings a couple weeks ago though.” You beamed at him, blushing even harder. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t the worst night ever anymore. Just a tad embarrassing to be confessing like this after having a full blown mental breakdown and panic attack in front of him. Not quite how you thought this confession would turn out. You actually had planned to just take this crush with you to your grave, not wanting to ruin the friendship you had grown with him. 

“I-I’ll confess, I’ve liked you ever since we were paired up in potions at the start of the term.” You chuckled at the memories of him huffing and pouting at the fact that he had to work with a Hufflepuff. 

“Hmm, I’m sorry I was so rude to you back then. You had done nothing wrong. Just merely been a Hufflepuff.” He teased at the end, earning him a small punch to the arm. He feigned offense and hurt at your playful act. “I’m so hurt haha.” 

“As if!” You let out a genuine laugh and it was like music to his ears. You shuffled closer to him again, sitting between his legs, facing him directly. Both of you gazed into each other’s eyes, mesmerized and gaining a new understanding for each. Slowly leaning closer, Draco delicately placed his lips onto yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you reciprocated the action, leaning into a deeper kiss. Is this what bliss and heaven were like? You were sure you reached your utopia. Butterflies danced in your stomach and you truly felt sparks flying. After holding the kiss for a little while, you both pulled apart for air. 

Slightly panting and still staring deeply into his soul, you sat against him, your back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around your torso and rested his chin on your shoulder. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” This time he sighed with content, “Don’t let Parkinson or her entourage tell you anything different. I’ll personally make sure of it.” You laughed at this then sighed with comfort as well. 

“Oh, but of course. You’ll protect me, my knight in shining armor!” You joked lightly, playing with his hands that lay in your lap. It felt so right, how your hands fit into his larger ones. “Can we stay up here just a bit longer? Just, hold me, please?” 

“Of course we can. I would love nothing more.” His voice hummed in your ears. So deep and calming in the cold and windy night. “Just the two of us.”

[xanyiaz]

guys i AM 'the' gavin, avior, porter and camelopardalis fan 🙏🙏‼️and here's why @plaqying :

I MADE GAVIN IN THE SIMS 💀💀 and also posted several fanarts of him (on my friend's behalf):

also i wrote this essay about him:

lemme just write an essay about vincent and gavin for a second-

so i was relistening to this audio earlier *the vincent audio after lovely got kidnapped*

and he talks about how he was kind of an asshole before because he was only ever thinking short-term and only ever flirting with people as a means to eventually feed from them. but lovely and what they went through with adam changed him because it made him realise that he had changed. he had become different from how he was as a human, but lovely made him remember that version of himself - like they awakened the vincent that, although still being very flirty, he sees and embraces them as they are, and doesn't just flirt to feed but because he wants to, because he loves to, since he loves them. it reminds me of my other favourite character gavin - how he's also an asshole in the beginning (i have a type ig 💀) but it's only because other people only saw him as sex, as a tool to get off with, but not as just he is. they ignored the best part of him - his heart. they forgot he even has one because they were too busy wrapping themselves up in a fantasy with him, only to then throw him away once they're finished. but freelancer stuck around. they saw him for how he is. not as an incubus, just as "gavin". i love characters like this - that, at first glance, just seem a certain way, but underneath all that, the flirty exteriors, are the most beautiful beings with hearts of gold. and both of them are so patient; they didn't expect anything in return, after all, why would they? everyone else only wanted them for their flirty self or to use them for their body, not for their soul. lovely helped vincent realise that he had grown too used to putting up a false flirty front and that because of that, he had forgotten who he was underneath all that - a caring, loving person who also encourages lovely to become a better person; and freelancer, who got helped by an incubus and some silly lil elementals to realise that it's ok to reach out for help sometimes and that doing so isn't a burden on others, helped gavin realise that people want to be around him for more reasons than just sex, he is deserving and worthy of much more than that.

in short i'm so incredibly sane about them and love them a totally normal amount i promise.

---

wrote 2 POEMS based on avior and starlight:

also i imagined this: if starlight had/has pimples or spots or freckles and disliked them or felt insecure because of them i just KNOW avior would like- compare them to the stars and the night sky and kiss every one lightly, showering them with love until they start believing themself that they are as beautiful as avior says. this is how i imagine it:

slight sovereign state spoilers ig ??

starlight: "i'm breaking out so much, look how many pimples i have showing."

avior: "hey, don't say those things about yourself. all your spots and details and everything about you considered an "imperfection" by yourself, or anyone else, are my favourite parts of you. they paint star constellations all over you, and every time i look at you, i just want to plant kisses over each and every one of them. we may not have had any indicators of what time of day it was when we were stuck in hell together, but you were and still are my night sky, my sunshine, my whole universe, all the stars in my galaxy. every time i look at you, i see that all over you. your so called "imperfections" ignite my soul. you're my everything, starlight. never hate anything about yourself. and do not doubt even for a single second that the way i feel about you would change because of all your beautiful details. you are the stars that light up the galaxy of my heart. starlight, star bright, the stars in your eyes light up my life."

---

look how many porter headcanons i wrote RAAHHHHH:

- under people's skin or in contrast, how to charm and flatter people, he's SO charismatic and knows exactly how to get what he wants

- he has dyed tips of his hair- like i imagine it being either white/light grey or black and then like red or purple or blue dyed tips and like it's longish shoulder length but styled like miyamura from horimiya

- he likes board games but ESPECIALLY cluedo

- he likes wine-tasting

- he has heterochromia eyes- either like blue and red or blue and purple

- he wears corsets 🤭

- he wears HELLA jewellery- skull rings and loads of ear piercings and like a tooth necklace or something and just LOADS of vintage jewellery

- he knows how under people's skin or in contrast, how to charm and flatter people, he's SO charismatic and knows exactly how to get what he wants

- but also- he's so used to charming people or putting on a show/facade that, when people do genuinely want to get to know him and be close with him, he's reluctant and inexperienced- most people don't stick around after they get what they want from him, which is why he's so interested in & curious about treasure, why he's so enamoured with them bc they also seem so enamoured with him and he wants to understand why.

- also he has the sluttiest waist ever and he's so babygirl- wbk but i had to say it anyways 💀

also i made a playlist for him ofc <3

---

i also made these edits of gavin, gavin (again) + cam and porter (edited him twice) (can't believe i haven't edited avior yet smh):

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camelopardalis my love <33

---

i have made more posts about all of them but it would take too long to scroll so you'll just have to take my word for it 😭‼️also i LITERALLY have most of gavin's audios memorised by now- and also porter's first audio- trust i am all of their biggest fan 🙏🙏 but also if i don't win- that's fair enough lol good luck to everyone 🫶🫶

[prosaic-bun]

Envy and Jealousy Part 1

Genshin Vignettes

Genshin!men x Male reader

Characters featured: Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno & Diluc;

Content: Fluff and a little suggestiveness in the Ayato one.

Discussion: Envy and Jealousy are hard to work through. It is possible to end up projecting your insecurities on the people surrounding you if you aren't self aware. However, all these things aren’t inherently linked to possessiveness and toxic relationship patterns. Why am I writing all this? As I’m making silly littles vignettes on envy and jealousy about 2D characters, I want to clarify that those feelings can be traced back to the values centered in our societies - namely individuality and ownership in a patriarchal and capitalist system. Traced back, not excused. All in all, we often confound acts driven by jealousy as proof of love. Jealousy in relationships is common, but I believe the way it is addressed - with open communication, is a testament to one's ability to love. In other words, if someone reflects on their jealousy and recognizes their possessiveness or need for control as issues they need to work on, that’s the real commitment towards the relationship. Jealousy can be endearing, but left unchecked it can lead quickly to a toxic relationship.

Albedo - Seated at a table near Good hunter you had your nose in a book and from time to time you glanced over at Albedo who was sketching something in front of you, probably an unsuspecting subject that had caught his eyes. You were truly grateful for those times spent in his company mostly because you had reached a point you didn’t feel the need to talk and could simply enjoy the time going by slowly in his company.

After some time, Timaeus, who was operating the alchemical crafting bench on the other side of the fountain plaza, approached and interrupted Albedo’s creative process to ask him some questions about the technicalities of the procedures he used to brew a certain potion. You didn’t make out the details, but took the opportunity to leave for the bathroom since you had been sipping on lemonade all afternoon.

When you returned you noticed how Albedo seemed somewhat displeased at answering the growing pile of questions from his colleague. When Albedo noticed your presence, he immediately excused himself away from Timaeus and pulled you by the hand in direction of the Headquarter of the Knights of Favonius. He mentioned not being able to finish your portrait because he was disturbed by the other man and wanting to make a new one somewhere you wouldn’t be bothered by anyone. Nobody encroaches on his time spent with you, those moments are yours and only yours. Leading you to his private quarters, he made sure you were the sole subject of his attention.

Alhaitham - On an early morning in Port Ormos, you and your partner made your way into a dusty library in a secondary alley of the marketplace. You were looking for a particular essay studying the theological implications of the Sefer Yetzirah or Book of Formation and the author was said to have a position that dissent from the many scholarly theories on the matter. Sadly the book itself didn’t have a lot of print and it didn’t seem like a new edition would be coming. You pushed the door of the library which made the little bell attached to it resound into the small room filled with books from floor to ceiling. You and Alhaitham went toward two different sections, browsing for the desired book from shelf to shelf.

You were soon joined by the library clerk who seemed about the same age as you. He came up to you and asked for what you were looking for. Hearing the title of the essay, he smiled and nodded, impressed that you were looking for a book about a quite controversial subject. He smiled and added that he knew as soon as he first laid eyes on you that you looked like trouble. He left momentarily to go fetch the book in question from the backstore and brought with him a piece of paper and a pen. He took a second to scribble on it and mentioned how the topic itself was quite complicated and how the essay involved advanced notions.

As he extended his arm to give you the book and the paper with his name and address on it, he offered to give you some pointers and maybe take you on a date afterwards. He was interrupted by Alhaitham, who came up from behind you. With daggers in his eyes, he said in a monotone voice that since you were a very capable researcher in the field of philosophy, early mysticism and occult traditions, you wouldn’t need him to coach you. He added that as for a date, it was something reserved for him only; his arm reaching for your waist to add weight to his words. You paid for the book with as few words exchanged as you could, not to make the transaction any more strained. Once out of the library you raised a quizzical eyebrow at your partner who still had his hand on the small of your back, seemingly pushing you the furthest away from the library clerk as possible. When it was time for you to open the book later that day, Alhatitham insisted for you to rest on him while you both read your respective publications. He also made it clear that he was available at any time for any question you could have. When you teased him about whether he was confident in your reading comprehension skills or not, you could see him try to hide the plink flush of his face behind the hardcover of Aristotle's Physics.

Ayato - Getting ready for formal events with Ayato couldn’t be considered easy. Knowing that you would be hooked on his arm during the reception or meeting related to his functions kinda instilled in his brain he had to make the most of it. You were currently putting on the exquisite kimono he had custom made for you at Ogura Textiles & Kimonos. The silk felt sumptuous to the touch and the patterns sewn into the fabric were elegant.

You emerged from behind the folding screen and Ayato placed himself a few feet in front of you to admire the view. The commissure of his lips stretched into a smile and his eyes reflected fondness and a hint of pride. He closed the distance to adjust the opening of your kimono, taking the opportunity to feel your pecs under the fabric. His forthright action caused a tremor to spread across your body. You pulled him into a kiss to which he answered with impetuosity. Soon you were left breathless, letting him explore your jaw and neck as he was leaving trails of kisses. In the haze you left your neck fully exposed allowing the Yashiro Commissioner to seal his lips on the sensitive skin at the base of your neck and suction forcefully. So that’s what he was after from the beginning.

You lightly push against him and turn your head to get in his way. He paused to calmly look at you. He then tentatively reached for one of your hands and brought it in front of his lips to kiss it tenderly before closing it in a way that allowed him to suckle on your index finger - maintaining eye contact at all times. You giggled at the sensation and with a whisper you asked him what he needed to say to have your assent. A simple «please» escaped his lips and you used your free hand to part the silky material in a way that made your neck even more accessible. Ayato released your hand, but waited for you to nod and seductively expose your neck for him. This time, Ayato took extra care to make you feel even better trailing his teeth across your neck. He once more sealed his lips near your collarbone and sucked the skin while adding little nimbles and swirling his tongue on the yet to be bruised area. In the end, the hickey was only visible if someone paid you close attention. In a way, if someone had the audacity to look at you for too long, it would be clear you had someone in your life, and that was the man’s goal.

Cyno - Who was that? Why were you walking with them in such a decontracted manner? Cyno knew your friends, but he had never met that man walking next to you. You were strolling down the streets of Port Ormos and often stopped at the various stalls along the way. He wasn’t really spying on you and he told himself repeatedly that you would never do something bad behind his back. Cyno had tailed you since he saw you in the distance with the other and couldn’t decide what was your relationship to him. Was he a former colleague? Someone you studied with? Maybe he was an ex of yours. That would explain your physical proximity and general openness. He saw you burst into laughter, not just laughter, you were cackling and needed to steady yourself by placing a hand on the unknown man's shoulder. He caught himself wishing you laughed like that to HIS jokes.

The General Mahamatra remained hidden for the rest of your stroll and watched you climb the stairs that lead to the higher floors of Port Ormos. Soon your destination was made evident, you were going directly to Shapur Hotel. A hotel of all places, the place of predilection for extra marital relationships. You weren’t married, but that wasn’t the point. You halted in front of the building and hugged the other man. Cyno knew he could trust you, but that was playing with fire at that point. You bid your goodbyes to the other and turned back.Cyno left his hiding spot and made it straight to your shared apartment.

Once he was home, he didn't have to wait long before you arrived. Cyno steeled himself in place; the interrogation was about to begin and he would have answers. As soon as he saw your face and even before you had the time to greet him properly he fell to his knees - panic stricken, and asked if you were seeing someone else. You looked at him in confusion, clueless at what would have prompted this until you put two and two together. You made him stand up and explain that you were previously with your cousin who was visiting Port Ormos and that you were showing him around. Cyno felt as relieved as he was embarrassed. He apologized and said that the outburst wasn’t really rational of him. You reassured him and hugged him tight, even though it was a misunderstanding you could feel that your lover was quite shaken about the idea of you leaving him.

Diluc - As part of the Mondstadt branch of the Adventurer Guild you had your fair share of commission and had gained a little bit of notoriety within the city of freedom. Even Katherine praised you for your versatility and hardwork. About one month ago after clearing some hillichurl camps, you took a commission from the Knights of Favonius for whom you had to make an inventory of the supplies and rations stocked at the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. You ended up being paired with Bernhard and the task took you most of your afternoon. Thankfully the knight was friendly and reliable and you were able to finish the inventory while making some arrangements to the procedures so that the inventory was systematically balanced based on consumption and replenishment of the stock. After that commission and for the following weeks Bernhard made sure that you would be asked personally to execute the Knights of Favonius commissions. Today you received one such commission from Katherine. You had to help Bernhard visit Mondstadters to raise awareness on the new evacuation measures in case of emergency in the city. The goal was to review the evacuation plan leading to the designated safety areas in case of fires or other natural disasters and what could be done for prevention and the different methods of control that minimize the damage and risks.

After all your hard work during the previous month, Bernhard wanted to emphasize that he was grateful for your help and gifted you with a basket of baked goods and sweets. You thanked the knight and left with the delicious reward to go meet your partner at Angel’s share. Diluc was already outside of the tavern and ready to go home to Dawn Winery with you. He gave you a chaste kiss as a greeting and led you towards the main gate. He noticed the basket you were holding and foraged into it trying to snag a snack for himself. You half slapped his hand saying those were gifted to you for your efforts and that if he wanted some he needed to ask for permission first. After he used the magic word you graciously offered him a flavourful moon pie.

Walking next to him you told him about your day and the commission you had taken and finally explained the gift was from Bernhard because you were the finest adventurer in all of Mondstadt. Since Diluc didn’t react at all to your playful boasting you elbowed him to get a reaction out of him. The red head apologized for lacking consideration and you continued the conversation thinking nothing of it. Your partner was probably tired after working all day. The next day you were woken up by Diluc bringing breakfast in bed. You asked what the occasion was and he answered he just felt like it. You were taking the day off so you had nothing planned and were able to enjoy the act of kindness. Your partner was a great chef and the grape juice was also a recognizable personal touch from the man you loved. In the afternoon, you were given a Cecilia bouquet most romantically and even if you tried to know what this was all about, Diluc deflected the question. In the following days you received many more gifts, little notes and it all culminated one evening when you received new gear for your adventuring duties and an invitation to spend the evening with him and a glass of apple cider.

Diluc brought you to the balcony adjacent to his room on the second floor of the manor. Once in the intimacy of his room, you stopped him in his tracks and demanded that he tell you why he was showering you with gifts. You liked everything he picked for you, but you stated you didn’t need all of it. Diluc took you in his arms and answered that he was reminded not so long ago that he had a wonderful boyfriend and it would be a shame if only some work colleagues were the ones to give him gifts. Not missing a beat Diluc suggested you both leave on the following day for a romantic getaway to Dornman Port where you could relax and spend time together without the pressure and responsibilities of Mondstadt.

[hp-hcs]

(Fine, I’ll do it my damn self: part 8 of my silly lil m! & enby! reader stories <3)

uniforms — nonbinary! blaise zabini & nonbinary! reader

tws: use of reader’s deadname, use of she/her pronouns and fem-specific language towards or about reader, use of he/him pronouns for blaise D/N = reader’s dead/given name Y/N = reader’s name

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Can I try on one of your uniforms?”

You look up from your book, blinking at Blaise. “What?”

“Your uniforms. Can I try one on?”

“Why…?”

He sighs loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s just an experiment, no big deal.”

You look at him quizzically for a moment longer. “Uh, sure, I guess?”

You stand up from your desk, crossing over to your armoire and pulling out one of your spare uniforms, laying it out on your bed. “Here, go wild.”

He smiles at you, running his fingers over the pleats of the skirt with surprising gentleness. “Thank you.”

You shrug, still a bit puzzled, and go back to reading your book.

~~~

“Zabini? The fuck are you wearing, man?” Theodore asks quizzically as you all sit at the Slytherin table for breakfast.

You glance up, seeing Blaise setting his bag down and smoothing out your uniform skirt, sitting down on the bench with that kind of natural grace all rich purebloods seem to have.

“It’s D/N’s,” he says smoothly with an air of haughty indifference. “I’m just borrowing it.”

“You lose a bet or something?”

“Merlin, Nott,” you roll your eyes. “He’s just expanding his wardrobe. Not a big deal.”

Theodore looks at you with an oddly thoughtful expression for a moment before shrugging. “Alright. Pass me the syrup, will ya?”

~~~

Blaise went back to his usual uniform the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that. Nearly a week from when he first asked to borrow your uniform, he tentatively knocks on the open door of your dorm room and peeks in.

“D/N?”

“Oh, hey, Blaise. What’s up?”

“Can you teach me how to put on eyeliner?”

You blink blankly for a moment before grinning. “Oh you could rock some eyeliner. C’mere.”

He grins back, bounding into your room with an unexpected amount of giddiness.

~~~

“Hey, Blaise?”

“Mhm?” He looks up from where he’s splayed out on your dorm room floor, setting his magazine—The Witch’s Weekly—down on his chest and waiting expectantly.

“Can I borrow one of your uniforms?”

“Sure,” he says, nonplussed, as he picks his magazine back up.

~~~

Theodore looks at you quizzically but says nothing as you sit down for dinner in the Great Hall wearing a boy’s uniform. When Blaise follows right behind you and sits down in his skirt, he just shakes his head a bit.

“Love today’s makeup, Zabini. Your eyeshadow game is on point.”

Blaise smiles.

“And you, L/N. I like the new hairstyle.”

You grin too.

~~~

“Pansy!” You call after her, jogging to catch up. She slows and turns around, smiling at you.

“Hey, D/N. I thought you couldn’t come to Hogsmeade?”

“Finished my essay last night.”

She nods, looping her arm through yours and marching towards your guys’ quick weekend destination, already chattering about any and all drama.

After a lull in the conversation, following a particularly juicy tidbit about Katie Bell, of all people, Pansy elbows you in the side gently.

“So what’s with the uniform? And you and Blaise, for that matter?”

“What? Nothing, I just like these uniforms better.”

“But you still wear makeup,” she points out.

“Yeah?”

“But you prefer to wear trousers?”

“So?” You ask, bristling slightly.

She pats your arm reassuringly. “No judgement, just curious. Are you trans?”

You pause.

“I’m not a boy.”

“Are you still a girl then?”

You hesitate.

“I think that’s your answer right there. Maybe you ought to talk to Professor Lupin’s spouse.”

~~~

“I’ll go make us some lunch. You can’t not eat, no matter how many tests you have to grade,” a voice says playfully but firmly as you hover uncertainly by Professor Lupin’s classroom door. You can hear footsteps from inside, then the door opens suddenly, nearly smacking you in the face.

“Oh! Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t see you there,” the culprit says apologetically.

“No worries,” you reply, a bit dazed. “I don’t suppose you’d be Tonks?”

“I am, in fact. What can I do for ya?”

“I had a bit of an odd question…” you trail off.

“Talk and walk with me, sweetheart. Do you like grilled cheese for lunch?”

~~~

“What is it called again?”

“Nonbinary,” you repeat, wringing your hands and cracking your knuckles nervously.

“Holy shit.”

“I know, right? That’s what I said! I didn’t even know that was an option!”

Blaise stands in the center of your dorm—the door locked and silencing spells up for privacy—and stares at you, mouth agape.

“Which means we’re not- there’s nothing wrong with us. There’s an actual name for it.”

“Huh,” Blaise murmurs softly.

“So what do we think? Yea or nay to they, if you will?”

“I say yea,” Blaise says with mock seriousness.

“Then it’s a unanimous decision. They it is.”

~~~

“Mx. L/N, Mx. Zabini, if you would pay attention,” Professor Snape all but snarls. “My class is more important than your discussions. Five points from Slytherin.”

“Wow, great job, guys,” Draco drawls, casting you both unamused glances.

“Hey- they started it!”

“Don’t listen to them, they started it!”

“Children, children, you’re both pretty. Stop fighting,” Pansy rolls her eyes.

“Obviously I’m pretty,” Blaise scoffs as they press their hand to their chest in a mock-offended manner.

You roll your eyes. “You wish.”

Blaise pouts, turning around in his chair to face the rest of the friend group. “Theo, Y/N’s bullying me.”

Theodore snickers. “Maybe they’re just jealous,” he suggests.

“That makes more sense,” Blaise snickers as they stick their tongue out at you.

You stick your tongue out back at them. “Hey, you can’t be mean to me! I loaned you my old uniform in the first place!”

[mdhwrites]

Do Themes Make a Story Good? Featuring TOH and Amphibia

I've tried talking about this subject a few times and never found a good angle for it. Last night, a thought wormed into my brain about the fact that I make a lot of posts defending the thematic strengths of Amphibia, how those themes help justify some of its writing choices and even talk about concepts and the like that people claim are not in the show that are actually represented. Contrasted with my blogs on The Owl House where I usually talk about its themes to highlight poor execution on them or how I disagree with them existing, a fear hit me.

Do I consider Amphibia's themes more valid because I like the show more?

The extremely short and reductive version of this is "to some extent yes." That doesn't get into WHY for this though. After all, one's enjoyment of a piece shouldn't matter for a theme. Not all themes are fun or pleasant and so expecting a comfortable experience with them isn't fair. It limits the sort of storytelling you're capable of.

The problem is that this extends to ALL media. What commonly determines if a piece is genuinely good or not is if it was engaging, not if it was fun or enjoyable. A horror fan and an action fan might both call their movies a blast but the sort of engagement they had is vastly different. One is loving the use of scares, tension, etc. like that while the other may have just enjoyed a popcorn flick with explosions, big set pieces and silly violence but neither opinion is bad because they were both properly engaged by the points of the movie.

Themes are interesting because we often talk about them as engaging but I think this is actually putting the cart before the horse. We pick up on these themes because the work itself is engaging. After all, a textbook on mental health can have a theme of dealing with trauma but we don't frame it that way because, you know... It's a textbook. It's dry. Conversely, an author might tell you that their work was about something but if it was incoherent garbage, then who cares what it had to say because you didn't like it in the first place to dig into every piece of symbolism that supposedly has something to say about the theme the author claims.

So what does this have to do with Amphibia and The Owl House? Well, their ways of dealing with theme are kind of fascinating and indicative of how they are built as shows and play into why I find one's themes great while the other is lacking. I'll try to illustrate with two metaphors: Amphibia's theming is like putting away pennies for a fundraiser to make a park for the community. Everyone pitches in but they pitch in in small ways and no one is able to just dumb a giant wad of cash in. They're small drops that build and build until one day you go to put a penny in and are pleasantly surprised to find that hey, you guys are making some real progress! You might not make the goal you had but this is impressive as is! Next week it's a little higher and higher until the jar is gone, only for the organizer to come out to cheer about how they made it and finally revealing the park, but the sum of it all is so much more than you could have expected from mere pennies, especially in all the small details! However, even if you only glance at it, it still looks complete, fun and satisfying.

The Owl House's theming is much more like a college essay that ends up getting a C. It starts with a really strong thesis to their paper and has a compelling starting argument that implies a lot of knowledge. However, they have fifty pages to fill and the student realizes by page ten, they're running short. So they first start pulling in elements that don't conflict immediately but are still a little strange to include. Then it includes a couple strange tangents and personal anecdotes that don't seem to make a lot of sense and are losing the thread faster and faster. By the end, the tricks to achieve word count are starting to become blatant, especially as they spend so much time repeating the same things as if they were new information or something unique but it's actually well worn. All of it is useless to their argument and even actively harming it, let alone when paired with all the rest. Structurally it works and it finished with enough words but it comes back with the thesis statement circled multiple times and the question "Wasn't this the point?" under it, all in red.

These two approaches have knock on effects though. Amphibia doesn't ask anything of the viewer but to buy in slightly. In return, you are invited to just enjoy the characters and its world. It doesn't have anything to prove and doesn't need to be loud in its messaging and so the story is allowed to function simply on a basic level and be enjoyable on its own. It can tell a simple story with a clear moral because it knows that the moral is playing a part to the larger whole and doesn't care about if everyone knows how grand its scope because the goal of enriching everyone will be reached no matter what. This is how you get an entire season dedicated to Anne's character development that only bothers to actually say that was the goal at the end of the season when the option to be selfish once more and cut off community, to reject change and go back to what is comfortable, comes in the form of Sasha. And heck, that is actually one of the most overt times Amphibia brings attention to its storytelling/theming but only AFTER earning it.

The Owl House meanwhile has something to prove but neither the knowledge or focus to do so but it's stated it so now it has to earn it. As such, anything that crosses its desk that is even tangentially related to its themes gets pushed in so that it can claim to be thoroughly exploring the topic, even if previous examples or the like actively conflict with the new example. As an example, I've seen people really praise The First Day for tackling how the traditional school system doesn't accommodate people or work for all learning types. With TOH's early statement of "Us weirdos gotta stick together!" and all that implies, this is actually a great topic for it to tackle. However, because its being grafted onto this thesis, the supporting evidence hasn't been properly built up and so you have people claiming they should be allowed to do school differently... By literally breaking the law in a way that is met with the DEATH PENALTY. It's technically on topic but it's sloppy and loses all of its bite because you're left more confused than properly satisfied.

This causes a weird issue where you can engage with Amphibia only on the surface level, never take in its themes, and still get a deep enjoyment from it because the basic storytelling makes sense, follows its own internal logic and has satisfying payoffs because of every penny contributed to making the whole thing works. You don't need more than Anne's relationships with others to be able to cheer in joy at the "They're not Amphibia's greatest treasure" moment because those relationships are engaging on their own. Because of this engagement and satisfaction though, you're more incentivized to want to actually take a closer look at what the whole picture was and to enjoy the minor details, even if you didn't have to, like how the whole show always pushed seeing selfish things that could oppress others as worthless when compared to the selfless and communal which is part of the thematic punch of the greatest treasure moment.

Meanwhile, The Owl House paradoxically is hard to enjoy as a basic story due to all the concessions to theme while the choices of the story also actively make the theming worse, making only the absolute most surface level read the one that can be satisfying because only then can it desperately claiming that everything had a point actually be believed. Otherwise, the broken seams that are barely keeping the whole thing together start to show itself until it entirely unravels at the end because it cannot tie them all back together. The epitomy of this is how Luz becomes a chosen one, breaking some early theming, due to a power up she only gets after the THIRD time that she theoretically resolves the same inner conflict in THREE EPISODES, muddling any of the thematic payoffs for any of the three times the themes were meant to climax. The best the show can hope for is that the teacher will accept their excuses for why it's so incoherent, despite the fact that even as early as S1B (When The First Day I referenced earlier was) the flaws in the show's ability to actually meet the assignment were clear.

This is why I personally argue that you can have a good story without themes but you can't have good themes without a good story. If the work doesn't support them then the themes will more often than not get in the way and audiences won't care they were there in the first place. Admittedly, this might be due to my own writing method where I usually stumble my way into a theme that stems from simply trying to make the base concept the best way I can. After all, almost every story will have a theme of some sort but if you go in with the goal of making a statement, well...

You better know what you're talking about and how to present it or you'll become more repetitive and rambly than this blog.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[misssugarcat]

Stargazing Time

Aesop Sharp x Reader – 3.7k words Tags: Fluff, Teacher-Student Relationship, Age Difference

"Excuse me, Professor Sharp? My name is Skylar Lane, and I am the new fifth grader. I shall report to you?" I give him a friendly smile.

Professor Sharp looks towards me and raises his eyebrow. "Hello there. Skylar Lane, I read on the list that you'll be taking potions lessons today." He pauses. "You must be new to Hogwarts. Welcome. I'm sure you'll find your classes quite interesting." He gives me a soft smile, although his eyes are tired and filled with stress from all the papers he has been grading all morning. "Any questions so far?"

I look at him, slightly concerned. "Are you alright, sir? I don't want to be pushy. You look a bit tired."

He smiles again. "I'm fine, thank you. It was just a long morning reviewing all my students' essays. You're very considerate, I'm impressed." He leans forward a bit, trying to seem more casual, but it only makes him wince in pain because of his injured leg. "That's your first lesson, caring so much about others. The more powerful a wizard becomes, the more their emotions affect them. You must learn to be strong and in control of what you feel ... or it might control you."

"Just because I can tell other people aren't feeling well and see them wince in pain doesn't mean I let my feelings control me." I wink.

"Well, that's very good. Many young witches and wizards are usually ruled by their emotions." He glances up at me, and his eyebrows raise. "You're a sly one, you know, Skylar. I was just wondering something ... would you describe yourself as a rule-follower? Or do you think you're too smart for the rules?"

"I better not say anything wrong now, right?" I grin.

He tilts his head to the side slightly. "No, go on. Say what you think. I won't take points off, I promise." He grins back.

"If it's for the greater good, I'm willing to ... bypass some of them."

He smiles. "That's good. I've seen many students who have trouble with the rules because they feel silly. But no rules exist without a reason. However, if you think the reason is good enough to bypass a rule, then so be it. Just don't break the rules for stupid things. Does that sound fair?"

"It does, sir."

He nods. "Good. Do you know how to set up your potions station? If you haven't done it before, I can help you find where everything is."

I nod, too. "That would be nice, thank you."

He stands up and smiles. "No problem. I'll show you the ingredient cabinet." He turns and beckons me to follow. As I do so, I realize he's limping slightly on his left leg. It seems he can't put any weight on it without pain.

"Welcome to the potioneer's world. You'll soon realize that Potions is an art as much as a science. And it takes a lot of practice to truly master it."

I wordlessly offer him my shoulder as we walk across the classroom to the ingredient cabinet.

He seems very surprised by this gesture. He looks at me and then down at his injured leg. It takes him a moment, but he smiles and accepts the offer. "That's not something you often see. Thank you. I suppose I underestimated you, Skylar. Do you often volunteer your shoulder as an assistant?"

I laugh. "Seems like you're the lucky one today."

He chuckles. "Indeed. It looks as if I might learn more from you than you'll learn from me. I'm a bit of an introvert, and I tend to do most things on my own. It's not a good thing for a potions professor. Perhaps you'll get a special treatment from me because of the shoulder offer."

"I didn't do this to suck up to you or get special treatment." I grin.

He smiles. "I didn't take it that way. Trust me, no student has ever tried to suck up to me. It's always nice to see a student with empathy for their instructors. How would you like to be my unofficial assistant until my injuries heal?"

I look at him doubtfully, then grin again. "I guess you've never noticed when a student tried to suck up. But I say yes to the offer." I laugh.

He chuckles again. "Alright, thank you. Well, you'll have to forgive it. The only student I ever caught trying to suck up to me was so obvious that it seemed insulting."

He pauses, considering his own thoughts for a moment. "You have a very confident demeanour. Almost like a Slytherin. What house did the hat have sorted you into?

I laugh. "Not Slytherin. I'm a Ravenclaw, sir."

He raises his eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Now that's an excellent choice. If you think about it, the Ravenclaw dormitory is just as much a place of secrets as it is of study. Why do you think the door is a puzzle, after all? They want to make sure only the smartest students can get in. What makes you think you belong in Ravenclaw?"

I laugh. "It was a riddle. I just answered the question."

He laughs. "You must be quite proud of yourself. Did anyone try to help you get through?" He grins.

"What makes you think someone helped me?" I look at him questioningly.

He raises his eyebrows again. "Very good, very good. You know, you're a bit devious, yourself. You may have a little Slytherin in you after all. Are you sure you're a Ravenclaw?" He's teasing, but there is a look of genuine interest in his eyes. He wants to get to know Skylar, who he feels is an outstanding student. She has a quick wit, and he finds it entertaining just to talk to her.

"I got through the door with the first try. So the hat was obviously right in its choice." I grin.

He smiles. "Well, that's still an awe-inspiring accomplishment. You're just full of surprises, aren't you? I'm going to have to think of some ways to keep you interested in my class because I suspect you might be one to get bored."

"Let's see if I'd blow up my cauldron. After all, I have no experience yet." I laugh again.

He chuckles. "Maybe. So you are a clean slate? But you seem like the type of person who does her research. Am I wrong?"

"You're not. I'm a blank slate, but I've read a bit."

"I'm impressed. Reading ahead is the sign of a good student, and I suspect you'll make an excellent potion master one day. What was it about potions that caught your attention? Did you discover that you like combining ingredients to create something different and unique?"

"I just took all the courses that I found interesting. And which I will later need for certain jobs  to have a choice."

"Now, that's a clever way of thinking about your classes. As an older person, you will be prepared for anything coming your way. Are you interested in jobs you could get with your skills as a potions master? Have you ever thought of potion making as more than just a school subject?"

"I haven't given it that much thought yet. First, I wanted to concentrate on settling here and working well in the courses."

He nods. "That's a good attitude to have. You should always focus on your present tasks first. In that regard, you will make an excellent Ravenclaw." He pauses. "What are some of the most interesting classes so far?"

"DADA, Astronomy and Ancient Runes. Can't say for potions yet." I grin cheekily.

He nods. "Those are all interesting subjects that could be helpful in different fields. Especially Astronomy. Have you ever been particularly interested in stargazing? Can you tell me a few things about it?" He seems genuinely curious and is happy to see a student who enjoys learning about subjects beyond what is necessary for their exams.

"Stars are great! They have been there for thousands of years and will be there long after we die. I find that fascinating. They are like gateways into another universe. And they look beautiful." I beam at him.

He nods and smiles. "Those are all very accurate statements. They are beautiful, aren't they? There's something about looking up at the stars that is completely humbling. You feel so insignificant and small. Considering how vast the universe is, how can you take yourself seriously? It truly makes you wonder. And that is the beauty of it." He seemed almost ... inspired, as if a new idea was forming in his mind.

"What are you thinking about right now?" I raise my eyebrows.

He laughs. "It's something you said about stargazing. The universe, how vast and mysterious it is. You said it's like a gateway to a different universe. I've never thought about it that way, but the more I do, the more it makes sense. It's as if the universe is connected somehow; we are just a tiny part of a network of worlds, stars, and planets." He seems to think for a moment. "What a fascinating idea."

"Until now, I thought potions were your favourite subject? At least, you teach it."

He laughs again. "Well, of course, I enjoy potions. It's a passion I can dedicate my whole life to. But it isn't everything. There is much more to study in this world beyond just potions. That's why I love learning and why I love teaching. There is always something new to discover, something fascinating to learn. How could you not love the mystery and adventure of it all in a world like this?"

"But it's not everything about learning, you know?"

"You're right." Sharp nods. "I guess I've gotten so caught up in the learning that I've forgotten about the personal side. There are so many things to experience and look forward to in life. But this voice always tells me I must focus, study, and work hard. As a child, my parents drilled that into my head, but I guess it stuck." A look of sadness appeared in his eyes, but he shook it off. "But all of those personal moments are just as important. It's more than just about learning."

"Why do I feel you never allow yourself any free time?" I just look at him.

He pauses for a moment, considering his answer. "You're right. I don't have any free time, for the most part. I'm constantly studying, grading papers, or doing several different things. But then I'll catch myself and realize how stupid that is, you know? How pointless it can be, sometimes. But then I think about all the things I can do, the knowledge I can accumulate, and the things I might achieve by working hard. I've gotten so used to being busy constantly that I've forgotten how to stop."

"You're about to destroy yourself with that."

The professor nods again. "I guess I am. I just struggle to let go. I hate the feeling of wasted time or time when I could be doing something productive. Maybe I'm a bit of a workaholic." He sighs. "But you know, I appreciate this talk. In a way, you're reminding me of the life I could have if I let myself. I guess I've just gotten too wrapped up in trying to be perfect and impress others."

After a long day at school, I climb the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room. Looking out the window, it is already dark, and the stars twinkle in the sky. I stop for a moment. Then, I decide to turn around and head to the potions classroom.

Aesop is grading papers inside the potion classroom while sitting in his chair. He also takes notes in a book but pauses to look up at you when you enter, seeming happy to see me. "Ah, Skylar. I'm glad you could join me. Are you feeling like working on potions tonight?"

"No, we have something more important to do." I take his hand and pull him out of the classroom.

His eyes light up. "Something important? Do tell! You have me curious now." He doesn't seem to mind being pulled away from his work as he steps outside and into the hall, looking eagerly at me.

We go through Hogwarts towards the greenhouse and exit the school. Outside, we sit down near the castle wall. I hand Aesop a telescope and grin. "Stargazing time."

His eyes light up with excitement as he sees the telescope. "Oh my. Well, now you have my full attention. I don't think I'll be able to think about anything other than stargazing tonight. Let's make the most of it!" He smiles, setting the telescope before him, and looks through it.

I smile as I watch him, fascinated by the night sky. I put a second telescope next to me. Then, I explain the different star constellations to him.

He watches the night sky, amazed by the stars' beauty and how the universe seems to stretch forever. "My god, Skylar. This is one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen. I can't believe I've never looked at the stars like this ... you've opened my eyes to such a new way to see the world." He pauses momentarily and stares at me, intrigued and slightly awestruck. I brought happiness into his heart that he never thought was possible.

Together, we watch the stars. It's so lovely to see how much Aesop thrives on this. It's almost more beautiful than the night sky.

After a very long time, he speaks again, looking at me with a smile that seems entirely genuine. "Thank you, Skylar. This truly is an unforgettable night. I don't know that I'll ever be able to look at the stars or the universe with the same eyes again. You've shown me something new, and that's why I'm so glad I accepted your offer to help with my class. You've brought new beauty into my life." His eyes reflect his words, and he looks like his spirit has been revitalized.

"Do you feel like we've wasted time?" I wink at him.

Aesop laughs. "Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. You've opened my eyes to the beauty of something I already take pride in. Potions are a part of my life, but it doesn't have to be everything to me. You have helped me realize that."

I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back, his hand strong but gentle. "I really appreciate this conversation. And I promise I'll work on spending more time outside of class. I'll learn to slow down a bit. You'll have to make sure that I do, though. I don't have a great track record of doing things like that alone." *He looks at me and smiles.

"If it's nothing more ..." I laugh.

He laughs with me. "I wouldn't mind that. Honestly, you've made it so easy to talk to you. I really enjoy your company. I think I would like any opportunity to be with you more." He looks off into the sky before speaking again. "You and I could plan for more stargazing sessions and make it a tradition. Do we have a deal?"

"Deal!" I hold out my little finger for a pinky swear.

He smiles and holds out his own little finger. "A pinky swear. Well, you know how seriously I take those. So, I suppose this is a done deal." We lock fingers and seal our agreement.

Then we lie down on the grass and just look up at the night sky. The quiet sound of crickets and the gentle breeze fill the air, and a strange feeling of calm seems to wash over him. He feels like he could stay like this forever. He glances towards me and smiles. "This is a night I'd like to remember for a long time."

I smile back and squeeze his hand again.

He squeezes mine, noticing he doesn't want to let go. He can't remember when he felt so peaceful and content and wonders if she feels the same. He smiles at me again and decides to say something he's been thinking to himself. He looks at me, then looks back to the sky. "I've had a lot of things on my mind lately, and I guess I've gotten caught up in my own thoughts. But looking at the stars and talking to you ... it's just made everything fall away."

"That's good," I say quietly.

He nods. "You've made me happy. It's been so long since I've felt anything like this. Like I can truly let myself be happy." He squeezes my hand. "I truly can't thank you enough for this."

"You're welcome." I giggle.

Sharp smiles. "I know it sounds cliche, but I'm discovering myself because of you. As though the stars are aligning just to give me this moment to feel happiness again. I'm so ... so grateful that I found you." He blushes a little at his comment, slightly embarrassed at how cliche it sounded. But then he realizes how true it is: He is grateful for this moment with me. It's almost like it was meant to happen.

I squeeze his hand back without saying a word.

He smiles at me again, noticing that the night sky grows brighter. He glances over at me, then looks at the stars, feeling pure happiness. It is like the stars reflect his joy and bring more of it back down to earth.

"I never thought I would say this to another person, but I think you're ... beautiful. Not just your looks but your personality, your nature. Everything about you is fascinating and radiant. It's like you make the whole world brighter."

I blush heavily. I'm so glad it's dark, and he can't see me.

He notices a shooting star in the night sky and points at it. "Did you see that? It's a shooting star. What do they say about shooting stars? That if you make a wish, it will come true." Although his face is lit by the night sky, he visibly blushes and seems very nervous. However, he is still smiling and looks back at me. "If you could make a wish right now, what would it be?"

"You must not tell your wish! Otherwise, it will not come true!" I remind him.

He laughs. "True. Well then, let's say my wish was for you." It was slightly corny, but it was just as much truth as it was a joke. He smiles and wonders if I have wished for him too.

"Same …" I grin.

He chuckles. "That would make both of our wishes come true." He looks back at the sky, taking in the stars for a long time. After a while, he speaks again, his voice soft and calm. "All I can do now is hope that the stars will hear us. I think I will leave the rest to them …"

I look at him. I wished that he would be happy. Not only now but also in the future. He deserves it.

He notices me looking at him and is surprised by how beautiful I am now. After a moment, he speaks up again, with a gentle voice barely above a whisper. "Do you think the stars could really hear us? I hope they do. It would be nice to think we've got friends in high places." He seems genuinely curious and hopes the stars might listen to them.

"Maybe we just need to believe." I sigh quietly, looking up at the stars.

He nods and smiles at me. "I suppose we do. And if that's the case, I know in my heart that they heard us. I feel like they had to have. Because now, I only want to keep looking up at the stars with you. I couldn't have anything better than this. I feel like I've reached the apex of my life, with you lying next to me and the stars above. That's all I need."

I can't help but extend my hand and stroke his cheek. He seems so happy right now, so beautiful. "Can you promise me something?"

He nods, still looking at me. "Of course. What is it?"

"Don't let this joy be taken away from you by any work in this world. Nothing is more important than your own happiness." I smile at him.

He nods again, his eyes sparkling at my words. "I promise. As long as you're with me, I'll remember that. I might work hard, but I will always make sure to leave time for you and the things that make me happy. You're right. That's the most important thing." Then he smiles again. "You've opened my eyes to how much I must be thankful for. You're wise. I will need someone like you to help guide me through life. Can you do me a favour and stay close to me?"

I hug him. "Gladly …"

He hugs me back, his arms wrapping around me softly. "You've made me so happy. I can't tell you how much I appreciate you and your help. Everything in this world is better since you've come into my life. I hope you know how much you mean to me. You're a wonderful person, and I hope I can make you this happy too ... if you'll let me."

I look into his beautiful, dark eyes. Then we kiss.

His heart flutters once more as he holds her close. His face is flushed with happiness, and his eyes seem filled with love and admiration. Her lips are soft on his, and he feels light in his head. He takes this as his cue to pull back a little, still looking into her eyes, wanting to treasure this moment for eternity. In this moment, it feels like he can see the heavens, and all the stars are in his soul.

[cve-th3mvsic]

i’m gonna be a lil inactive

my silly brain is a lil tired, and social interactions are becoming a little overwhelming- i’m struggling to generally mentally keep up, i’m gonna try n take some time to catch up

___

social interactions have been a little more overwhelming for my brain, and recently, (irl. like in real life. real, in-person encounters.), a few people have talked to me and it was like. confusing. and my brain was like “..whaaat?”

like, they started the conversation (or at least tried to). they started to talk to me. i’m not sure how tf to. to respond.

so, some story.

one guy was like “yooo… i’m cooked..” in english — because he didn’t have his essay finished. and he like literally looked at me as i walked into the classroom to sit down, he looked at me and said “benni i’m cooked”

…okaay?.. uh.. whoops? sorry? i. what am i supposed to say?.. (i didn’t say anything, i just sat down)

that guy, uhh let’s call him door because it makes no sense, and only little sense to me (i correlate it w/ his name). in english class, we’re working on essay stuff (which i hate). i don’t have my essay finished, and we were doing stations with essays, so the people who didn’t have theirs finished had to go to a certain table and work on their essay. i was one of those people. and so was door. and another guy that i have geometry with too. mmm let’s call that guyyy… glass? fuck if i know a good code name for him.

—let’s talk about glass (bc i can’t tell you one story without at least 5 others)—

i get bad vibes from glass. i do not really like the way he talks. he says shit that he should not say, and in my opinion, nobody should say (specifically: he says a slur that i don’t even feel like mentioning because it just. i do not like it. he should not be saying it.).

he’s said something about a mutual friend (she’s my friend and she’s friends w/ him. i mean- yah a mutual friend. i js don’t talk to glass so-). let’s call her (the mutual friend) mm… button? i dunno. so button and i are friends, more like acquaintances. (most friends i mention i have are acquaintances. the most we share is a “hey” “how are you?” “that’s good, i’m okay ^^” and that’s about it.) and she’s a really sweet person. very kind. button is very nice.

so in english class (i think glass and button are friends, not fully sure, but they seem like it), i was sitting behind glass, and next to glass was another mutual friend, (she’s friends w/ button and glass too i think. i dunno if we’re actually friends, but that’s not the point), lily, and he said to lily “i don’t like [button],” lily asked him why, he said “she’s too overdramatic” and that was a big no-no to me. what the hell dude.

i do not like that he said that. and behind her back. and i witnessed it. like sure, okay, maybe you were speaking your mind, but that’s not cool dude. i don’t like that.

—okay, done w/ glass for now—

english is the class that i have most social interactions in. i have to talk to people more in the class than others.

so, the people that i have english with are door, glass, button too, uhh and DVD (i’ve mentioned before).

i’ve had to sit w/ door for the station stuff because we didn’t have our essays finished. there were a few other people too, obviously.

but so, door, i saw him lookin at me every now and then in class. not creepily, but like. ya know? like i saw him staring at me or glancing at me or something and then he’d look away and i’d look away like “is he looking at me?” — i could be wrong, but i mean i have a hunch. door, and glass, and DVD too at one point, i have a hunch about. like, do they. like me or something? or do they wanna talk to me? if they do i’m screwed /j — i don’t know how to talk to people- i mean i can, but it’s difficult. like if they come up to me and start conversation first. why is it so difficult-.. — i’ve become more okay with doing my own thing and not caring so much if others are bothered about it or stuff like that. i’ve gained some confidence in myself. i feel like i can start up conversation if i want to. and if i don’t, oh well. bummer.

what was my point here…

i dunno

if you read this, that’s cool beans ^^

i’m going on a break now, so i won’t be interacting as much at all. i hope you all have an amazing day, week, month, and year! <3 stay safe, stay hydrated, stay hype

___

[kafkaoftherubble]

I have mild dear emperor fatigue in the way that I wanna work on it but just not the main plot or the Mcs. Just two weeks ago I got a silly idea for an Odedan cookbook that has weird footnotes explaining things about the history regarding the colonies because they got lots of spices, foods and dishes from the colonies. Then there's also that performance art/installation piece I've been thinking about and like 2 other side stories. There's so much dear emperor in my noggin

Dude, worked on THEM TOO!!! World-building isn't a vice; it's a virtue.

I rather read a story with that many things plotted out, than one that thought all I needed to care about were main characters with some tropes slapped onto them and calling it a day. Oh yes, I'm still salty about some Fire Emblem titles. Who would have thunk I could be capable of holding grudges...

Here's something that might not be apparent at first glance: when you're fleshing out your world with even trivial things like their culture, food, art—you're actually fleshing out your characters and main plot too. In the real world, everything is interdependent. People are as much products of their background and society—as the larger world being influenced by them.

And that's really what your side ideas will do, even if not apparent right now. Your main characters have a history; it's why they are who they are too, however minute the influence might seem.

It's also possible that as you write side stories, you come to realize something new or cool about the main story! Maybe the sides change the main's trajectory. Maybe the sides are foils to the main theme. Iono, could be lotsa possibilities!

Last but not least, a world this rich would suck people in waaaaay more, don't you think? Hahahaha! Imagine all the meta essays your readers would write! Wouldn't it be an honor to have so many people writing analyses of your work?!

GET TO IT!!!

[desmondkane-of-ao3-fame]

SKARLOW HUMAN COLLEGE AU

For a long time I’ve had this Skarlow College AU idea rattling around in my head, and I haven’t written anything about it before, but I’m going through a rough time, so I thought it might be helpful to just type this all out. My own little silly AU I sadly probably won’t do much with.

This is a Human College AU. No magic or Boiling Isles sadly, but instead it’s replaced with all the wacky college hijinks you can shake a stick at. Luz, Willow, Skara, and Amity go to Hexside University, the most esteemed school of higher learning in all of Connecticut, or at least that’s what the ads say. The dorms often being infested with rats, they leave out.

Skara and Luz are roommates, and they hit it off super quick. Skara’s majoring in Musical Performance while Luz majors in Art with a minor in Creative Writing, so the two creatives love gushing about each others studies. Luz brings a pet snake she’s named Stringbean, though, and Skara has to run out of the room or risk getting sick whenever Luz feeds them. Once, when feeding Stringbean live crickets, one escaped under the doorframe, with Skara catching it. When it seemed to want to stay beside Skara, she decided to keep it as a pet, naming it Daisy. Luz then began feeding Stringbean mealworms instead, feeling a bit awkward about the idea of possibly feeding Stringbean one of Daisy’s cousins or siblings.

Amity and Willow are also roommates. Childhood best friends who lost touch after Amity’s parents forced her to leave Willow, her dating Luz gave her the confidence to rekindle her friendship with the other girl. Both girls are majoring in Business, but Amity minors in her true passion of Creative Writing, and Willow wants to major in Botany instead, but can’t because of a scholarship that she’ll lose if she changes.

Skara first meets Willow in a Gen Ed class, and from the first sight she’s absolutely smitten. She’s formulating a sonnet for the beautiful woman who smells of petals and pine before even realizing she’s casually just sitting next to her. Which, as one would guess, Skara finds slightly terrifying. Still, she tries to keep herself cool, able to survive the rest of class with only minimal glances at her cute neighbor. But as the two get up to leave, she seems to tail the woman as she walks towards Skara’s apartment, and it’s here that Skara learns the pretty girl it looks like she was stalking is in fact the best friend of her roommates girlfriend. And Willow likes to hang out with the pair when they aren’t too lovey dovey, leaving Skara to realize that she and Willow will be spending a lot of time together. Oh, wow, roommates…

Over the next few months, Skara becomes closer with the others, becoming Luz’s best friend and Amity’s future jingle writer. But her feelings for Willow, though maturing from childish infatuation to genuine care, never falter. Every chance she has to hang out with Willow she jumps at. Every time she see’s Willow smirk or hears her laugh at something stupid Skara feels the urge to just tell her how she feels. And every time Willow leaves, Skara’s heart drops like the moon into the ocean, wanting to spend just another few minutes with this marvelous, strong, brilliant, funny, breathtaking woman. It’s so obvious and bad that Luz, who didn’t realize Amity’s crush on her for six months, realizes instantly that Skara’s down for Willow bad, much to Luz’s amusement and Skara’s teeth gritting regret.

While writing an overly long essay about a musical writer Skara only half read, she keeps slipping into confessions to Willow. She can’t get the girl out of her head, and keeps slamming her head into the keyboard in frustration. Annoyed with her inability to take her mind off her feelings for Willow, Luz suggests taking her to a party meant for Luz’s Azura Book Club. When she mentions they’ll be serving ‘Apple Blood,’ Skara immediately accepts, eager for the chance to spend an evening partying without Willow.

After a responsible but still impressive amount of Apple Blood, Skara is able to enjoy herself at the party, completely forgetting about Willow as she just dances to the music and laughs at all the nerds in the group talking about their favorite ships. That is, until she spots Willow, hanging out in a corner, in a trenchcoat, just chilling. Skara drags Luz away, hissing about how she can’t let Willow see her drunk, terrified she’ll slip up and tell her how she feels. Before she can get reassurance that Willow won’t see her though, Willow and Amity do just that, walking by. As Skara stumbles into Willow’s arms on accident, Amity suggests Willow take her home, much to Skara’s horror. The parties a 15 minute drive from the apartments, and this is gonna be the longest, most terrifying 15 minutes of her life.

The trip starts out as nauseating as Skara feared, a pit in her stomach that kept screaming at her to say nothing, to not tell Willow anything. But as the drive starts, Willow makes small talk, asking Skara if she’s ok and why she drank so much and if she’s doing ok even with junk like finals coming up. Skara, against her better judgment, answers that it’s alllllll good, and then changes the subject to first kisses, kicking herself. Willow admits she dated a guy in high school who turned out to be Luz’s adopted brother for a week, but she’s never kissed anyone. Skara admits that her first and only kiss was with her senior prom date, a guy she’s pretty sure is gay now. That gets a laugh from Willow, Skara’s nerves ease up, and the two begin having more mundane, but no less fun, conversations.

When the ride finally ends, Willow has to help carry a tired and drunk Skara up the stairs to her dorm. When she gets Skara back to her room, she helps her get wrapped up in a blanket and lays her in bed. As Willow leaves, Skara feels the knee jerk reaction to call for Willow to stay until she falls asleep. As Willow sits besides Skara, the later feels the urge to tell Willow how she feels, but stops herself, before telling Willow she’s glad they’re friends. She drifts off to sleep, glad she didn’t humiliate herself, but a part of her sad she would probably never work up the courage to tell Willow how she felt…

As Skara falls asleep, Willow curses herself for hoping Skara saw her as anything more then as a friend. She sits there, resenting herself for getting her hopes up, before eventually deciding to just tell the clonked out girl how she feels, if only to get her feelings off her chest. She tells Skara about how much she loves seeing her happy when she plays music, how hilarious it is that she takes sports way too seriously for a drama kid, how kind and fun and pretty and uniquely Skara she is. Willow talks about how easy she is to talk to, and how she can’t get the silver haired songstress out of her head so she went to this stupid party with Amity to try and do just that. She admits that she wishes she had the courage to just tell Skara how she felt when she was awake but still she was happy to be Skara’s friend if nothing else. And as she keeps going, Skara slowly wakes up, and hears everything Willow is saying. As Willow winds down, she heaves a sigh of relief that Skara didn’t hear her confession, right before Skara throws herself out of the bed, screaming “WHAT!!?!???”

The next morning, Skara wakes up with a massive hangover, and a hand in hers. At first she’s afraid it’s a severed hand, but then she realizes it’s much worse; it’s Willow’s. She panics, before Willow wakes up and clams her down. She explains what happened; how she confessed, how Skara woke up in a manic state over the confession, how Willow held back Skara’s hair as she threw up for 20 minutes in the bathroom before asking Willow to hold her hand and not leave till morning, which Willow obliges. As Skara turns more and more crimson, it actually dawns on her that Willow actually does like her. That she does have feelings for her. And that even after holding her hair back to let her throw up for 20 minutes sHE STILL LIKES HER!!!!

Skara admits her own feelings, and the two laugh about the ordeal, before Willow asks, nervously but honestly, if she can kiss Skara. Skara jumps from her bed, rushing to clean the puke and alcohol off her breath, before telling Willow she plans to take her on the best first date ever to make it the best first kiss ever, something Willow chuckles at, gladly accepting the idea.

[cantalooprat]

mushrooms in the abyss: a stream of consciousness essay on the themes explored in little mushroom and how to feed an abyss

idk where im going with this, i might add onto it whenever i feel like it

the main characters shi yuan and an zhe

at a rough first glance, the two might seem rather similar---the titular non-human protagonist "infiltrating" human society in a world where humans are actively defending against said non-humans, seeking for something that they deem as theirs within the human society. they're both rather naive, unaware of human customs, and as a result come off as rather cute-silly-embarrassing.

but within their non-human-ness lies their biggest difference: an zhe is literally just a mushroom. he is harmless. very harmless! he's just a little mushroom. meanwhile, shi yuan is an abyss, one of the most dangerous creatures around. he's a good abyss, but he's still aware that people might still be scared of him anyway. while an zhe just can't really do much, shi yuan is actively helping humankind by not doing anything.

how their colonel/general lu see them

in xmg, one of the most famous lines is lu feng's "he is the one who judges me" when asked about an zhe. in hfa, lu tinghan's simple response whenever people see shi yuan and ask him who he is, is just "he's my lover". it's one of my favorite things about both novels actually---this juxtaposition of shi yuan/an zhe's power scale in the grand scheme of the post-apocalyptic earth's ecosystem and their position in their lover's eyes.

shi yuan, young god of the monsters, one who can grant seemingly eternal life to these monsters plaguing humankind---in lu tinghan's eyes, he's his cute long-tailed purring monster, his sweet lover who loves headpats and will jump into his arms and cling onto him. he's not the frightening monster in the same class as the other abysses, he's lu tinghan's shi yuan.

and an zhe, the harmless little mushroom who could do little else (although he later became the savior of humanity), somehow has wormed his way into lu feng's heart while saying absolutely absurd things like "i understand you" and "you are a good person" while being the very creature lu feng is supposed to eradicate. by all means, he is the one who should be weaker, but lu feng holds him high within his heart, the only one who judges, can judge, is allowed to judge the arbitrator of humanity.

the nature of good-byes

one thing that both works especially highlighted as a "human sentiment" is the unwillingness to part, the reluctance to say good-bye before what seems like an eternal farewell. in xmg it's an zhe who leaves lu feng without saying good-bye. he claims the only good thing in the city is potato soup, and that he'd definitely have left long ago if it wasn't for his spore. this unwillingness is repeated again when he prepares to sacrifice himself and asks the professor to tell lu feng, if he ever comes, that an zhe has left. he doesn't understand the meaning of good-bye and yet he doesn't want to say it, and this contradiction somehow just humanizes him even more.

meanwhile, in hfa, it's lu tinghan who wants to leave without saying good-bye, because he's not quite strong enough and thinks that if he does say good-bye, then his conviction will waver. shi yuan, despite seemingly being utterly muddleheaded, is actually the one who has been prepared all this time---he isn't afraid of partings, because he came to the city knowing that their meeting will eventually herald their farewell. he just doesn't want lu tinghan to leave him without saying good-bye, like the time he left his post as an abyss watcher for good.

[yyxgin]

lee felix’s guide to hating you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What is Felix, however, really good at? 

Cheating.

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

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

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

The best cheating techniques?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I cheat.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean, leave?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh come on-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Felix just nods. 

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

“What do you mean, what’s the catch?”

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

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

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

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

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

He winks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello,” you smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You wouldn’t dare-”

“I would and I will-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t tell Jisung, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, she’s good,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

“That’s not true-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine, then-”

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

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

He realises he likes you. 

And clearly, you don’t like him back.

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

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

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

He has to stop liking you.

As soon as possible.

“Y/N?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For example?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, who is it that you like?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh?” he mumbles out, “with Jisung?”

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

“We’re hanging out now, though.”

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

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

“Great!” you smile. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s Jisung?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know, is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jisung?” Felix furrows his brows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-” 

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

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

“Jisung?”

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

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N.”

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

“What about her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sung?”

“Hmm?”

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

Felix could never hate you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sounds easy, doesn’t it?

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” he nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not coming back home?”

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

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

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

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

“Come where? Felix, what are you-” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

isn’t this how love is supposed to feel?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, since you like him so much.”

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

“Leave it.” Felix says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

The dark mixed with the white balls of fluff in the air remind him of you. Your bubbly laugh, the feeling of your skin on his when you held his hands and danced around with him in the snow. He feels a smile growing on his face, despite everything he’s heard today, his fingers involuntarily texting you to see if you’re doing anything and if you can hang out with him today. 

He meets you at the door a few minutes later, your nose runny from the cold and hands dry, smiling at you with a sense he can only describe as belonging, because he realises, maybe you feel just as lonely as him on holidays and suddenly, he no longer feels sorry for leaving.

“Why are you even here, Lix? Shouldn’t you be at home?” you ask him when you’re taking off your shoes and hanging your coat on the hanger by the door. He bites down on his lower lip to suppress a bitter chuckle. 

“Christmas got cancelled this year.” he shrugs. 

It’s not like he doesn’t trust you. You know better than anyone what his struggles are-- he asked you to keep his secrets numerous times. It’s just that now that you’re here, it’s like his soul finally feels calm and he no longer wants to whine about his grandma or his aunts anymore. It’s just you and him and the empty apartment. If he was anyone else, maybe he’d try to get into your pants. He’s just Lee Felix though, and he’s absolutely, wholeheartedly in love with you, he realises, and believe me, it kind of takes him over the edge, and so he doesn’t try anything. 

And you look at him in understatement, no other questions asked.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s all a capitalistic holiday anyway,” he shrugs.

You follow him into the living room and he throws the remote control into your lap, telling you to choose a movie before he comes back with popcorn. 

“If you don’t pick anything before I’m done, we’ll just watch Venom, I don’t care,” he says, seeing you adorably scrunch up your nose at him in response. 

When he comes back and you’re waiting for him with Howl’s moving castle paused on Netflix, he can’t help but grin at you. He places the popcorn on the coffee table and notices himself staring onto your body next to his far more often than the TV and wonders if he really drove away from all of his problems or if he just drove away from one problem to another, because now, it’s getting really hard to focus on staying away from you. 

And when you shiver and curl up into his side, placing your head onto his shoulder, he can’t help but jolt at the contact, staring at you in surprise. 

“It’s cold,” you mumble, pouting.

Felix smiles. He rolls his eyes at you, even though on the inside, he finds you absolutely adorable, taking a blanket from the side of the sofa and putting it over your cold bodies, tucking you both in. You feel warm against his side, your hand resting on his chest. He wonders if you can feel his quickening heartbeat, his stiff body and the nerves rising in his heart. Everything else disappears, the fight back home long forgotten and Han Jisung left somewhere home with his own family, the weight of your body overwhelming him when you fall asleep and that’s when he stops and thinks,

isn’t this how home’s supposed to feel like?

The halls of the university building are empty as Felix stands right in front of the closed door, silently pacing around the corridors and bumping his knee up and down. He just got his final’s results and even though his soul was supposed to be at peace, he finds himself stressing over you, currently sitting in the room behind the closed door in front of him, getting your final’s results from biology back. The professor decided to split your class into two groups for the finals so you can, quote, ‘focus better when there’s less people around’ and even though you managed to cheat on your exams without any problems, he still wonders if you did well and if you passed. 

Once the voices behind the closed doors get louder and louder, he figures it’s near the end of your lecture and he can finally see you again and ask you how you did. 

The last time he talked to you without the stress of finals breathing onto your back was back on Christmas break-- more than a week ago. Ever since then, you two have been meeting in the middle of the night again, preparing for your upcoming tests. You didn’t really manage to talk a lot about anything else and even though Felix didn’t mind, he still missed your mindless rambles and weird jokes you used to crack when you weren’t stressing your mind off. 

The door opens and reveals people coming out, a few of them wearing a toothy grin on their faces as they glance on the paper in their hands, a few of them frowning as they pin their eyes to the ground. It’s not easy to differentiate the ones that passed and the ones who did not do that well and even though Felix feels sorry for them, he wonders why they just don’t cheat their way out of bad grades just how he does. It’s not that hard. It just takes a lot of practice. 

Once he finally sees your face, a big, toothy grin decorating your lips, a big stone falls off his heart, a weight lifts itself from his shoulders, because frankly, you wouldn’t look so happy if you failed, right? You’re not a total psychopath.

“How did you-” 

His words are cut off from his mouth, all air kicked out of his body once he feels you so close, the soft skin of your lips pressed up against his in a happy kiss. He’s startled, to say the least. His cheeks are reddening in the instance and he doesn’t even know if time stopped or if it’s just the rising anxiety and excitement in his chest, but he bites down the confusion and kisses you back finally, closing his eyes and bringing you close by your shoulders. The kiss is a little sloppy and messy, but he doesn’t mind-- all that’s occupying his mind right now is you, your sweet lips, your mouthy kiss, your excited hands creeping up around his neck, your bag that fell to the ground next to his feet, your exam paper marked with the big red A+ flying around the two of you when you let it fall from your grasp, your hair tickling his cheeks, you, you, you.

There’s only you. In the air he breathes, in the ground he walks on, in his hands and on his mind. You’re everywhere. Intoxicating.

You pull away from him after a while, grinning at him. It still manages to startle him a little-- how just the small gesture can light up his whole world, how your smile can make him feel like he’s the luckiest person on this earth. He sees stars in your eyes and he wonders who put them there, hoping to be the one, believing he could finally be the one, with how you look at him and hold him in your arms-

but it’s Felix’s life we’re talking about. There’s only you, you, you and maybe somewhere, far away in the distance, there could even be him, but who’s always there for sure is Han Jisung.

Han Jisung staring at the two of you from the open door, mouth agape in shock. Han Jisung with trembling hands, Han Jisung with his books clutched close to his chest as Felix’s heart drops and reality finally hits him. You were never supposed to be his to kiss. You were supposed to be Jisung’s-- his roommate’s, his best friend’s -- you fell for him long, long ago and that’s how it’s always been. 

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, to comfort his dear friend that looks like he’s heart’s being broken, but he finds no words in him to console his actions. He feels bad, he feels so, so guilty when their eyes meet, but he doesn’t manage to say anything before Jisung turns around the corner and leaves. 

The sound of Jisung’s quick steps is the only thing resonating in Felix’s mind like a bell, a signal for him that he fucked up, he did a really, really bad thing. 

His insides clutch and eyes water in the empty college corridor when he wonders,

is this how it feels to break someone’s heart?

You kick the small rocks beneath your feet, gazing into the distance. The cold in your bones makes you shudder, your eyes trailing around the neighbourhood so foreign to you, putting your hands into your pockets so you shelter your fingers from the frozen air. You think how this place looks exactly as you imagined it to-- tall apartment complex and a single big tree in front of it, the cars parked in the driveway obviously having their spot as the neighbours have lived together for a long time to know not to park anywhere else, because it’s more efficient this way. 

You’re waiting and waiting, hoping to see the one you’re waiting for soon, because you doubt your confidence will last you for any longer if you don’t talk to him now. You could lie and tell yourself it’s okay and that you’re not nervous at all, but after Jisung ran away the other day and his roommate followed him a few moments later, you feel nervousness creeping into your skin after not seeing or hearing from Felix for three days now. 

You remember him telling you that he likes to go for late-night convenience store runs every evening to get his favorite snacks. It wasn’t hard to find out where he lives-- it’s the 21st century, for god’s sake. You asked a friend of his friend and here you are, waiting  for him to appear in the door of his apartment complex, ready to talk to him about the events of this week.

Once you hear the door opening, you feel your head snap to its direction quicker than the speed of light, knees almost getting weak at the sight of Lee Felix standing there, confusion written all over his face once his eyes meet with yours. The frown forming on his face only deepens your stress as you wonder if he didn’t want to see you today, which, considering the fact that he’s been ignoring you for the past few days, might just be the case, but it still makes your heart break just a little when you hear him sigh once he makes his way over to you, the sound of his sneakers on the ground being the only thing heard in the middle of the night.

All the snow has melted-- as if all the bright things have left just in time with it, leaving you sad and cold, the clouds of your breath hitting the cold air being the only thing reminding you of the weather as you feel your body heating up in his presence. 

“Can we talk?” you ask, voice steadier than you expected it to be.

“I- I mean,” he starts, a shaky and husky voice hitting your ears, signaling that he probably hadn’t spoken to anyone for a long time now, “you’re already here, so I guess…”

You nod at him, averting your gaze quickly to the ground, when you realise you suddenly don’t know what to say. You try to search for words, yet none come out of your mouth. Your mind is blank and it seems like his presence took away all your vocabulary, but deep on the inside, you know damn well that if you don’t speak up now, you won’t have a second chance and you really have to get it now.

“Why- why…” you mutter, “why did you leave without saying anything the other day?” you ask.

The silence is overwhelming as you start to hate the sound of your own breath, opting to hold it for a few seconds as you await his response. 

“I mean, isn’t it obvious?” 

You shake your head in confusion, finally meeting his eyes again. “No.”

“Jisung… Jisung saw us. I didn’t feel like it was right,” he explains, cracking his knuckles in a nervous habit you noticed in him a long, long time ago when he first tried to teach you how to cheat in class without getting caught.

“What does he have to do with anything?”

“You two like each other.” he says bluntly, taking you off-guard.

The moment these words come out of his mouth, you realise not one, but two things. One of them is fairly new to you, the fact that Han Jisung liked you back was something you never knew you could experience, but even though you should be flattered, you realise it no longer holds a meaning in your heart. The second thing is connected to the first-- and that is, Lee Felix doesn’t know that you like him now. His foolish, silly mind convinced him you were still in love with his best friend, his confused and frustrated brain didn’t let him realise that for a long, long time now, the freckled boy in front of you has been the only one you thought about when you were falling asleep at night.

You don’t even know when it happened. You guess it just did. You wondered how it’d feel to know what exactly made you fall for Felix, what that moment was, but something inside of you is telling you that maybe, it was even more wonderful this way. Unexpected, but totally reasonable.

“Why would I be kissing you if I still liked Jisung?” you ask, the fear of directly confessing to him and getting rejected creeping up in your shadow.

“I- I don’t know-”

“Exactly.” you cut him off before he rambles and manages to find a stupid, silly reason in his head to justify his wrong expectations. You know how he is-- if he overthinks things hard enough, he’ll surely find an answer. There’s none, though, so you don’t dare to give him time to think about it and ponder on the thought for any longer.

“But that doesn’t matter now anyway,” he shrugs, putting his hands into his pockets.

You wonder what’s going on inside of his head right now. You wonder if he regrets what he’s done-- if he wants to turn back time and never let you kiss him. The nerves make you bite down harshly on your bottom lip and you only catch yourself when you feel iron in your mouth, quickly licking your own wound on the surface of your mouth and take a deep breath in. 

“Why?” you ask. 

“Why would it?” he says, eyes boring into yours.

“Because… I thought it meant something to you? I mean, it meant a lot to me, at least. That’s why I’m even here in the first place,” you chuckle airly, feeling your throat get dry.

“I’m not saying that it didn’t, I just think it had no point.”

His words feel like knives thrown into your chest, like a fire burning the pit of your stomach. You feel your legs getting weaker at his arguments, your fingers harshly tugging at the skin of your cuticles hidden in your pockets. You don’t trust your voice to sound steady this time when you speak, but you don’t care. Maybe it’s time to show your real emotions. Maybe it will change Felix’s mind.

“And why is that?”

“Because people like you don’t date people like me. You’re supposed to be in love with Jisung. You’re supposed to be dating him, he’s supposed to date you. You’re too good for me anyway.” he shrugs.

“Is this all about Jisung?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

You watch Felix sharply inhale in and out, averting his eyes from your figure. The distance between the two of you is unnatural, as if to singal how the two of you are slowly drifting apart. You see him fold his hands on his chest, preparing for what he’s about to say.

“It hurt him, back then. And I hate that. He loves you and I just.. I can’t do that to him, when I know  how much he cares about you.” he says.

Love is a strange thing. You hear Felix say how much Jisung loves you, but is that really true? Does Han Jisung even know you? The real you?

Does Jisung know how you look with your mouth full of fries and a greasy forehead? Does he know how you look when you’re stressed out of your mind because of finals? Does he know your favorite bistro, does he know your favorite movie? Did you cuddle up with Jisung on the couch just because you wanted to be close to him, comfort him and tell him you’re there just a few days after Christmas? 

Or does he just know the self you put up in front of him when you went to meet him? The put-together you that cares even about the sound of your own laugh, not wanting it to sound ugly in his ears? 

Han Jisung can’t love you. He doesn’t even know you.

And you never loved him-- just for the same reason. The feelings you had for him were merely a feeling of attraction, so far away from love.

But now you know how you feel about Felix, how his smile lights up the world and how his presence makes you feel understood. How even the silence with him speaks louder than a million words, how he knows you like the back of his hand and how he treats you like his closest friend. You know that what you feel when you’re with him is stronger than anything you ever have and although it used to scare you for a moment, now you’re ready to embrace it and live with it, if he lets you.

Lee Felix doesn’t tell you he loves you. Maybe you can see it in his eyes.

Why does he have to put everything above love? Why does he care about Jisung more than you? It’s breaking your heart. 

“Felix… I’m sure he’d understand. He’s a good person. I’m sure he’d want you to be happy.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand-”

“He’s a grown adult!” you yell out, the built-up emotions coming to the surface in the form of frustration, your words sunding spiteful and angry. Maybe you are furious, maybe you are full of fire right now, but it’s all because of the boy in front of you and the things he refuses to let himself enjoy.

“Why do you even care about it so much, huh? I was your fucking second choice all along anyway!” 

You look at him in shock, your eyes watering at the sight of the frown sitting on his face. Something inside of you breaks and you think it’s safe to say it was your heart, choking you up as you shake your head in disapproval. 

“Felix-” you protest, but there’s no use.

You see him turn around on his heel, opening the door to the apartment complex and leaving. It feels like you’re losing him, it feels like he’s gone forever. He turned his back on you, refusing all the love you were willing to give him, all the love you were offering to him right here, your heart in your hands.

He gave up on your love.

People in movies go out to party after a break-up to get drunk and numb their feelings. They either go to the club or go to a stupid college party, which is, coincidentally, your case today, but you’re not here to get drunk tonight. You’re not here to drown out your feelings and numb your pained soul-- you’re simply here to try to have some fun.

Your mum told you long, long ago that happiness is a choice. You could argue with her and tell her that depression and heartbreak aren’t a choice and that they, by themselves, are causing people the most sadness, but you had to give your mum a point. If you don’t choose to try, if you don’t do anything to at least try to stimulate your own brain, you can’t expect happiness to find you by itself. That’s just, sadly, not how life works, and you weren’t going to drown out in your own tears just because of Lee fucking Felix, because if you weren’t worth trying for him, he’s not worth any of your tears.

You appear on Lee Haechan’s end of the semester party. You have A+ finals to celebrate and although you would be much happier to drink to them with the one that basically helped you get through the semester, you won’t pass the chance to socialize. You worked hard and you did a good job-- you deserve a party. Alcohol truly isn’t the best for your brain, but you will just decide to call it selfcare. It’s not like you’re getting blacked-out drunk tonight anyway.

You manage to have small talk with a few people from your class. Though it’s not exactly what’s stimulating your brain, you don’t mind it. You barely know these people and you couldn’t care less, but you guess this is the downside of socialising. 

The alcohol in your veins doesn’t give you a chance to loosen up, though. You only feel your body warmer with the beer hitting your system, but your feelings still taste of salt, your brain not cooperating with your grandiose happiness plan and you think the people talking to you notice, since no one really tries to keep you in a conversation long enough when you start to absently nod at them and pay zero attention to what they’re saying. You don’t blame them, though. You’d probably do the same in their place.

Your feet move their way to the front door when you decide that maybe your mum wasn’t right, completely ready to go home and pity yourself for a few more days before coming back to life, when a familiar voice calls you from behind, making you freeze in your spot.

“Y/N, long time no see.”

Han Jisung watches you with glossy eyes, yet he tries to look nonchalant at the sight of you. It doesn’t feel like his heart is breaking when he sees you right here and there, chewing on your bottom lip, more or less, it feels numbing to his heart and his head. It’s like he expected it all from the start-- the outcome that once so surprised him. But after all this time he spent overthinking and dwelling on the memory of seeing you kissing his best friend, it made sense to him. 

“Jisung…”

He can see your eyes growing worried when you watch over him and he mentally slaps himself for not handling his emotions with more care back then. He could have spared you a lot of pain and trouble if he hadn’t reacted in such a way in the doorway of your classroom, but the truth is, Han Jisung hadn’t really known just how much a true heartbreak feels and nothing could ever prepare him for the physical pain numbing his chest. He didn’t know it could hurt so much. 

He doesn’t want to worry you. You are still his friend, after all, right? That’s all you always have been and he should have understood it from the first moment he saw you gaze at his friend so lovingly in the university halls one day. He thinks you, yourself, didn’t even recognise the emotion in you when you watched over Felix with so much care, with so many stars in his eyes and a big grin on your face. He could never compare himself to Felix.

He doesn’t want to worry you anymore, and so he decides to talk to you like a friend would. You looked like you could use a friend tonight.

“How have you been?” he asks, smiling at you. He hopes his eyes convey the emotion he feels-- how after all this time, he still feels comfortable with you and desperately needs you to do the same. He can’t lose another friend. Not to love. 

That happens every single time. Truth be told, Jisung used to have a problem with differentiating true love from platonic feelings sometimes. He used to think he falls out of love just as quickly as he falls in, but the truth is that it was never even love at all. Sometimes, it was just pure admiration. Feelings for a friend. And he managed to ruin all his friendships just because he started dating them. 

And then, he just kept searching and searching for the right one, because no one ever felt right. No one ever made him feel loved, no one ever made him feel love. It felt suffocating, but so, so addicting. He could never give up on trying to find love.

And then he met you. And it finally made sense-- it finally felt right.

“I’m… I’m fine, thanks,” you say, smiling at him with that smile that still, admittedly, made his heart race and swell with love. He’s not afraid to call the emotion by its name. It doesn’t feel wrong. He used to think he wants it to stop, but the truth is, it still feels nice. 

Love feels like loneliness sometimes. It’s a bittersweet feeling. But it’s still so, so addicting.

“Are you sure?” he asks. He knows you. He knows when something’s wrong.

He also knows your eyes have been searching for his roommate for the past few minutes of your conversation. He knows you want to meet him and avoid him all at once, love him and leave him-- it was a paradox. 

He knows his roommate way too well, though. He knows he can’t fall out of love with you. He knows, though, that he’ll never act upon it. Lee Felix has always been the sweetest person in this whole entire world-- putting the needs of others before his own. He can’t keep doing this to himself.He can’t keep doing this to you.

“I think you know the answer, Jisung. Why do you keep asking, then?” you bitterly snicker, going around him and escaping the noisy house. Jisung doesn’t know if you want to leave, if you want to escape his presence, but he can’t leave you just like that, and so he follows you outside, seeing you sitting at the doorstep, as if you were waiting for him.

“You don’t have to think of me, you know that, right?” he says once he takes a seat next to you, watching your expression change into a pained one. 

“It’s… I don’t know. It’s complicated. And Felix- he doesn’t think it’s right. I can’t force him into anything. It was his choice anyway,” you mutter. Jisung sighs heavily, the feeling your words on his chest heavy and solemn. He hates the fact that he is standing in the way of your happiness. He hates the fact that he is the problem, the invisible wall keeping you two from each other. 

“It’s simple, though.” he shrugs.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. He takes it upon himself to explain before you begin to tell him that it’s not, opting to open your eyes on his own.

“You two are in love with each other. So you should be together. Isn’t that simple?” he asks, smiling at you subtly.

You scoff and shake your head. “He gave up on us.”

“Did he, or did he just do what he felt was right?” Jisung argues. “You can’t keep hiding from each other. You can’t keep trying to ignore your feelings just because I like you. That’s not fair for either of you.”

You don’t argue with him this time. He wonders what’s going on inside of your head at the moment, with your eyebrows furrowed and your bottom lip trapped in your teeth. You look just like all the times he watched you during your tutoring sessions-- focused and lost in thought. It will feel weird to not see you in that way anymore, but he has to try.

The same way Lee Felix always tried for him.

“You’re too sweet, Han Jisung. What a shame our timing’s off.” you say, bitterness coating your voice. He looks up at you again, wondering what your words mean. “I used to like you back then, you know,” you smile.

Here it is, the strange emotion again. The emotion of almost physical pain, a hand squeezing his heart, a knife stabbed into his back. It feels like his world is crumbling down on him, because he’s stupid-- so stupid. He could have had you back then. He could have been with you all this time, only if he wasn’t late. He missed his biggest chance, the biggest opportunity, the happiest time of his life. All because he was too hesitant. 

He didn’t deserve you anyway.

“But now your timing’s right with Felix. Don’t waste that,” he says, biting through the pain.

Because the truth is, if anyone deserved love, it was his roommate. The one that refused you for him, the one that rejected you for him, the one that set him up on a date with you even though you invited him in the first place. The one who gave up on his love only so he wouldn’t hurt his friend. You could say that Jisung was too good for this world, but Lee Felix is the one that deserves the whole entire world, in his eyes.

Maybe these two were just too good of friends. Caring about the other one twice as much as about themselves. And that’s exactly why Jisung will get over this-- he’ll push you to his friend. So he could be happy, finally. 

“Jisung, I don’t know-”

“Do it,” he cuts you off, “reach out to him again. Try it. For me.”

y/n: meet me at the 8Bistro at 9 

Felix can’t believe himself when he finds his legs moving to the direction of the bistro at the edge of the town. He knows it’s the last one on your list, the one you invited him to so you could celebrate your finals in and he finds himself wondering if he could have gone here with you earlier only if the two of you didn’t share that kiss back then.

That damned kiss he couldn’t stop thinking about for the last few days-- even weeks, every time he opened his eyes in the morning and closed them when he was about to sleep. It kept following him like a curse, a thing he couldn’t escape, as if it was testing him like the snake tested Eve in paradise. Foreign fruit. 

You’re sitting there already when he arrives, fingers playing with each other as you gaze at the door in expectation. He sees your usual order already on the table, assuming you got here early, but it’s untouched as your knee bumps up and down under the table and you bite down harshly on your bottom lip.

He takes a seat, allowing himself to look at you again after such a long time. It feels like it’s been ages, yet you still look the same to him-- the same beauty that hit him when he first met you and shared his biggest secret with you.

“Why aren’t you eating? You have to finish off your list,” he mumbles awkwardly, motioning to the food at the table.

“I wanted to wait for you.” you say. Your voice is quiet, almost shy, when you speak to him. He wonders just how much he fucked up that it made you act this way. He knows it’s probably a lot, but considering he’s sitting here right now, he can still fix it.

At least he hopes so. 

“Did you.. Do you want to talk to me about something?” he asks, nervosity filling his veins as he feels his hands form a little swimming pool with just how much he’s sweating.

“Yes,” you nod, taking a deep breath in and out. He wonders if you’re just as nervous as he is. The answer is probably yes, considering your tense shoulders and restless legs, but he doesn’t comment on it as he watches you begin speaking again. “I wanted to tell you that I’m- I’m in love with you. And that it’s for real, and it’s for you and no one else,” you start, quickly wetting your lips and continuing again, “and I know you must feel like a second choice, or like you weren’t important to me at all, but that’s not true.”

“You helped me so much, really, but the more I hung out with you, the more I realised just how wonderful you are. And how your heart is so big, how you’re fun to be around…” you ramble, taking Felix by surprise with your heart-felt monologue, “and that Jisung is not the one for me, because, well, it was just.. it was just a crush. I didn’t know him. He didn’t even know me that well. Crushes… they don’t mean anything. They’re silly. But what I have with you, Felix…” you say, drifting your eyes away from him for a second,

“I know you. The real you. And you know me. You’ve seen me at my worst. You’ve seen me struggle and you know exactly how to help. You know me and I know you and the feelings I have for you are much more than a silly crush. I love you, Felix. And I don’t want to just forget about us.” you complete and Felix swears he can feel his eyes watering at your words. He chooses not to speak up, afraid of his voice breaking, afraid he’s going to embarrass himself in front of you. His emotions got the best of him and right here and now, no one else matters. 

It’s you. You that feels like home, you, the only girl he’s ever loved. You, the only girl that ever loved him back, you, who he foolishly rejected. 

You’re everywhere. In his veins, in his heart, in his foolish, stupid mind.

“Felix… I don’t want you to give up on us.” 

He looks up, seeing your sincere eyes and a look full of worry. You seem so wonderful to him, even now. You’re everything he’s ever dreamt of, a home without a roof and walls. With you, he feels at ease. He trusts you. He’s never felt this way for anyone before.

He watches you and he hears your laugh, he hears your whines when he used to tease you so much. He hears the sound of your memories when he chased you around in the snow. He hears the opening song of Howl’s moving castle, reminding him of the warmth he felt when you hugged him so close that evening.

He used to want to hate you. He should have known that could never be the case.

You’re all he needs-- all he wants. You’re everywhere he looks, in every beauty of the world and in everything that’s dear to him. 

You, you, you, you.

And so he decides-- it’s time to change his plan.

Lee Felix’s bullet-proof guide to loving you: 1) hold her hand, 2) get rid of the guilt, 3) lean in and kiss her.

“Does that mean you’re giving us a chance?” you ask, hopeful eyes glaring at him with millions of stars in them, sparkles swimming around in perfection.

“We’ll talk after you eat. You have a yelp review to write,” he laughs.

“Feli-”

Lee Felix’s bullet-proof guide to loving you: 4) shut her up by forcing french fries into her mouth.

“I love you too.”

[watchmegetobsessed]

An Ocean Away - Harry Styles

Sequel to Tastes Like Strawberries 🍓 !

a/n: ahhh! thank you so much for the love you showed TLS! i already had more planned for the story, but all your comments motivated me to do this part 2! it’s an emotional one so brace yourselves! further in the chapter i placed the song that inspired the title and i listened to it while writing so i suggest you do the same!

pairing: professor!Harry x Reader

warning: sexual content

word count: 12.7k

masterlist

You walk down the familiar hallway texting back Eden that you are not spending the night at home again.

Eden: You really need to tell me about the dick that keeps you so busy these days.

Y/N: I never said a thing about any dick.

Eden: Oh please, you surely got yourself a rebound after Harry, you can’t tell me otherwise.

Y/N: Don’t you get a rebound when you broke up with someone? I was never together with Harry, so it doesn’t make sense.

Eden: You had a thing!! Okay, whatever. Keep your little secrets, I guess it’s fine…

Y/N: Love you!

Chuckling to yourself you put the phone away and stop at the door you know all too well, knocking two times before you open it and poke your head inside.

Harry is sitting at his desk, his reading glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as he is vigorously scribbling something down into his notebook. He lifts his head at your arrival and you shut the door closed behind you.

“Hello, professor,” you smile at him teasingly, walking around his desk as he pushes himself back a little so you can sit on his lap, pecking his lips gently.

“Hey, done for the day?” he asks, his fingers tenderly stroking your thighs over the fabric of your jeans.

“Yeah. We can leave if you’re done,” you nod.

“Just a few more minutes, alright?”

“Sure,” you nod, standing up from his lap so he can finish his work while you sit on the little loveseat he has in the corner, right under the window.

It’s been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, the new semester has officially started, you’re working your way towards your degree as this is officially your last semester, but what’s more important that you and Harry have been a couple for six weeks following the heated actions of New Year’s Eve.

Harry is still quite anxious about the whole thing, always on high alert and he even asked you to lie to Eden and Nat too. You tried to fight him on that, but you could tell how much he wanted to protect what you had so you decided to feed them this elaborate story about how you and Harry had a fight on New Year’s Eve and realized that it would have never worked out so you agreed to stay just friends. It seems like they believed, because they’ve been keen on trying to set you up with someone while you just keep dodging their attempts, sneaking around with Harry behind their back.

Other than the continuous lying and sneaking around, things have been going well with him. You’ve been spending a lot of time at his place, the only hiding spot where you can be carefree around each other without always watching out for others around you.

Today is Valentine’s day and though your opportunities to celebrate are very slim, having anything that’s slightly public crossed out of the list, that still doesn’t stop the two of you from having a good night in.

You watch him curiously as he is reading the lines of someone’s essay probably, or some test, whatever. Holding the pen ready to use whenever he finds something incorrect, he furrows his eyebrows at something before crossing out a line, mouthing the words he writes to the side of the page. He doesn’t wear his glasses that often, but he’s been complaining about having dry eyes these past days so it’s no surprised he switched to them from his contact lenses.

“You look sexy in your glasses, have I told you that?”

He glances at you, a small smirk tugging on his lips before he returns to the paper in front of him.

“Think they make me look older,” he mumbles under his breath.

“Nah, not more at least than your grandpa sweaters,” you tease him, earning a ‘Really? This again?’ look from him that makes you chuckle.

You busy yourself while Harry finishes his work and then you head out together, strictly keeping the distance between each other. Walking out of the building Harry heads to the left where the car park is while you take a turn to the right. It’s been your usual, since you can’t have anyone see you get into Harry’s car so casually, so you usually walk down to the small café near Building D, because there’s a very narrow little street running behind it where you can get into the car without anyone noticing you. You do the same now too before finally heading back to Harry’s place. Sinking into the comfortable seat, you stare out the window, thinking about how it’s just been six weeks since New Year’s Eve, but it feels like you’ve been together with Harry for months. Despite his many doubts and hesitant act, it was easy to fall into a kind of routine with him, and even more easier to get used to the thought that he is yours and you are his.

During these six weeks you’ve learned quite a few things about him, things women on campus would die to know and they were handed over to you on a silver plate by Harry himself.

One, he is a very touchy person, of course, when he has the chance for it. In the safety of his home or when you have a few minutes for yourselves in his office, he always likes to have his hand on your back or waist, he loves touching your hips or cheeks, caressing the skin wherever it shows from under your clothes. He is also very cuddly, likes to wrap you in his arms when you’re watching TV and when it’s time to sleep the first thing he does is to pull you into his embrace. You usually wake up in the morning with him completely wrapped around you, limbs thrown over you, face buried into your chest or stomach. He is a messy sleeper, but also a fucking adorable one.

Two, he is a good cook but not that good at baking. He says it’s the universe’s sign that he shouldn’t eat as much sweet stuff as he does, but in reality he just sucks at measuring the ingredients. He never follows the recipe, easily goes with things his own way and then he is surprised when it doesn’t turn out as it should.

Three, he notices the smallest things you’d never. Like how you hate it when the Sun is shining right into your face so he always makes sure to draw the blinds in the evening, or that you prefer sleeping with more pillows so he just simply gives you an extra without even asking every time you’re spending the night. He cares so much about you to the smallest details, it always makes your heart flutter.

And four, though he keeps a tough act in school, he is a lovesick puppy when no one is around, likes to be the small spoon when cuddling, absolutely adores it when you cup his face in your palms and kiss it all over. Loves it when you play with his hair or when you hug him from behind, kissing between his shoulder blades. He always tells you how pretty you are and never misses a chance to sneak a kiss from you. You couldn’t imagine him do any of these before you really knew him, but now you see that all these little things are just as much parts of him like the version of him he shows at school. You feel lucky to be able to see him like this and you’ll probably never get bored of it.

Arriving to his place you drop your bag off at the bedroom before you join him in the kitchen, already eyeing the flyer to the nearby Italian place that delivers.

“How about pizza?” he hums, eyebrows knitted together as he scans the menu.

“Sounds good. Can we order dessert too?” Walking past him you kiss his shoulder before grabbing a glass for yourself, filling it with tap water.

“Oh, no need,” he shyly answers, glancing at you. “We… have dessert.”

You watch him with curious eyes as he disappears in his little study before emerging with a plate filled with pink cupcakes. They look wobbly, the cream on top is not the same on either of them, but because you know he made them, they are the most perfect you’ve ever seen.

He places the plate to the counter with a shy smile before turning to you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs, hands finding your hips as he pulls you in for a kiss.

“Oh baby, did you stay up last night to make these?” you ask, touched that he took the time and energy to surprise you with something. Harry nods and you kiss his dimples softly.

“Mm, they are strawberry flavored,” he smirks boyishly.

“We are never escaping strawberries,” you chuckle softly as you dip your fingertip into the cream on top of one of the cakes, tasting it. “Hmm, this is actually good,” you tell him.

“Yeah, the cream is kind of okay, dunno about the rest though,” he admits chuckling.

“As long as it’s not poisonous, I’ll love it,” you giggle kissing his lips again softly. “Alright, but I can’t go over the fact that we agreed on no gifts for Valentine’s Day,” you say giving him a look.

“S’not a gift, just… a little gesture,” he shrugs innocently.

“Okay, then you can’t get mad over my little gesture,” you smirk at him, peeling his arms off you before you run into his bedroom to get his gift.

You really weren’t planning to give him anything, but you had a good idea last minute and couldn’t just not do it. Digging into your bag you pull out the little box and join him in the kitchen again, handing it to him.

“It’s not fair if you spent money on it,” he pouts, but you just roll your eyes.

“You spent money on the cupcakes too. But besides, I didn’t spent a penny on it. Open it!” You urge him.

Harry huffs but takes the lid off, revealing a stack of Polaroid photos. In this not too ideal situation the two of you are living in, there’s no chance you can ever post anything about him, even though there are quite a few cute photos of you with Harry. Eden recently bought a Polaroid printer and you borrowed it to print your favorite pictures of the two of you. There’s one from the morning after New Year’s Eve, just a silly selfie you took in bed, then one with the band from Harry’s birthday recently, a photo of the two of you backstage of one of his gigs you took in the mirror, he has his guitar in his hands as you stand next to him smiling widely. There are a few more with Sarah, Mitch, Charlotte and Adam and at the very end of the stack… some special ones.

You watch him go through them smiling warmly until he reaches the last few and freezes. You took the courage to take a few spicy ones of yourself in your favorite lingerie and thought it would be sexy to print them out as well and give them to him.

“I hope you’re not thinking about selling them already,” you chuckle. Harry glances up at you before shaking his head with a playful smirk.

“Was just a little surprised by them,” he admits.

“Do you… like them?”

“Oh baby, I love them, you look… wow,” he breathes out going over the pictures one more time. “But I’m gonna have to lock these away so no one finds them. Adam likes to go over my stuff when he is over, I definitely don’t want him to find them.”

“You better keep them safe because if anyone sees them I’m burying myself,” you snort.

Harry puts the stack of photos back into the box before leaning down he cups your face and kisses you gently.

“Thank you, love the pictures. All of them,” he adds cheekily and you feel yourself blushing.

He leans in to kiss you again, putting the box aside to the counter and this time it’s not just one short kiss, he carries it on, taking his time with your lips, savoring and tasting you without a worry in the world. It grows more and more passionate, tongues clashing and you tug at his hair, lacing your fingers through his locks, a moan escaping his pink lips.

You start inching backwards until your backside meets the edge of the counter. Harry doesn’t hesitate to pull your sweater off of you, throwing it behind before his lips are pressed against yours again. It doesn’t take long for his shirt and pants and your jeans to end up on the floor somewhere behind him, leaving you both in just your underwear. You kiss down his neck and collarbones, your lips gliding across his tattooed chest as you slowly slide down to your knees, hands moving over his growing bulge.

Hooking your fingers into the elastic of his boxers, you tug them down and pull his erection out, already so hard for you and you barely even touched him.

“What does my Valentine deserve for making me cupcakes?” you hum, teasingly pumping him a few times with your hands. Harry whimpers under your touch, but doesn’t answer so you stop your hands and look up at him. “Talk to me, what do you want?”

“Your mouth,” he breathes out, his eyes meeting yours, filled with lust and hunger only for you. Smirking to yourself you lick his length up before gently kissing the head, swirling your tongue around the tip before you slowly take him into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, baby!” he pants when you start bobbing your head, pumping the base in sync with your head’s movements.

His hand comes to the back of your head, fingers lacing through your hair. He doesn’t force you, he never does, just likes to hold onto you. You try to take him deeper and deeper with each movement until you fit his whole cock into your mouth, keeping it there for a few seconds before pulling away and letting him go.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles, helping you up from the floor, kissing your lips hard as he is already pulling your panties down your legs. “How do you want it?”

“From behind,” you tell without hesitation, turning around so you can lean onto the counter and push your ass up for him.

You feel one of his hands stroke down your spine while the other one reaches between your legs, his fingers finding your clit, drawing gentle circles on it at first before he goes a little harder, making you moan his name.

“Harry, please!” you beg, the need to feel him growing with each passing second.

He pulls his hand back, grabbing his hard cock as he lines himself up with you, one hand on his shaft, the other one holding your hip firmly to keep you in place. First he pushes just the tip inside and when he is sure you’re ready to take more, he slides all of him inside, filling you up perfectly.

“Shit, you feel so fucking good. Always so good,” he breathes out, both his hands coming to grip your waist as his hips meet your ass from behind.

He starts moving, going a little soft at the beginning before he gets rougher, his hips smacking against your ass with each thrust. You arch your back and push your ass up so you’re angled just perfectly for him, he runs a hand up your back, sliding it under the clasp of your bra and he leaves it there while fucking you from behind oh so well.

“Harry, oh my God!” you groan when he starts hitting that one spot that makes you go crazy.

“Feeling good, baby?”

“Fuck! So good!” you gasp, feeling the pleasure building up with each thrust. “Go harder!” you beg and once he has both hands on your hips again he does as you asked, railing into you hard, making you keep gasping for air.

“Getting close? Tell me when you’re about to cum, baby.”

“I’m close, please don’t stop!” you pant, hands holding onto the counter’s edge for dear life.

He reaches around you, a hand coming between your legs as his fingers find your clit again, adding to the sensation as he starts playing with it just the way you like it.

“Fuck, fuck! I’m gonna cum! Harry!” you moan uncontrollably and he growls deeply from his chest.

“Cum with me, baby. Give it to me,” he breathes out sharply and he just keeps railing you hard, fingers working on your clit until he feels your walls clench around his dick. “Oh fuck, yes, baby! Cum on my cock!” he gasps and at the same time as you go through your orgasm, you feel him twitch inside you, coming hard with you at the same time. “Jesus fuck! I love you, Y/N!”

You gasp at his words, eyes snapping open in the middle of your orgasm and all air pushes out of your lungs for a moment.

He whimpers and moans, thrusting into you a few more times before he comes to a halt, both of you panting like crazy, coming off your high. When he slowly slides his softening cock out of you, you turn around and look into his eyes. For a moment you thought he just said it in the heat of the moment and he didn’t even realize it, but when your eyes meet his, you can tell he is a little afraid of what your reaction is going to be.

“Did you mean that?” you quietly ask as he tucks his dick back into his boxers, pulling them up, but you don’t bother to put your underwear back on, standing there in only your bra.

“I-I did. I didn’t mean to say it now, but I did mean it,” he nods. “Is it… too soon?”

“No,” you smile at him, stepping closer so you can cup his face in your palms, kissing his lips softly. “I love you too.”

“You do?” he asks, surprised at your reaction.

“Of course, silly. I wouldn’t give my nudes to someone I don’t,” you joke making him chuckle, his arms coming to curl around your waist.

“Sorry, this wasn’t too… romantic,” he breathes out and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“You said you love me while fucking me on Valentine’s Day after exchanging cute gifts. I think it’s romantic,” you chuckle, finally making him smile. “Besides, I don’t care about the setting, just feels nice to hear you say it.”

“Yeah?” “Mhm, care to say it again so I can see your eyes as well?”

“I love you,” he softly murmurs, his forehead resting against yours.

“Yeah, feels better when I can actually look at you,” you chuckle kissing him softly. “I love you too.”

It’s definitely not just fun and games, being in a secret relationship that no one can know about. It surely adds a lot of tension into the situation, having to be so careful all the time and be reserved to the point where you can’t even be seen too often together.

As the semester carries on you always keep your ears open if there’s anything going on about you and Harry. Though you only limit your time together on campus to the bare minimum, only talking on rare occasions, you still want to make sure no one is getting the wrong (or right) idea about what is going on between the two of you.

The worst part is probably having to lie to Eden and Nat all the time. You spend about three nights at Harry’s every week and you have to lie every time you leave. After a while you tell them that you’re dating this new guy but he wants to keep it low-key because he recently broke up with his previous girlfriend. That gives them enough peace not to nag you all the time but you can tell they really want to meet this new man in your life.

You’ve tried to discuss it with Harry, tell him that they won’t tell anyone but it ended in a fight and you kind of gave up. Harry is way too keen on keeping it a secret and it’s clear he is not gonna make any exceptions. At least it’s the same with his friends, the two of you act like just friends when you’re out with the band though you have a suspicion that Sarah can see through the act. However she chooses not to talk about it so it’s kept hidden.

You don’t fight much with Harry, but when you do, it’s major. You both can get really into the argument and it easily gets way too heated, turning into a screaming match until you both realize you should just talk it out and have a little more understanding for each other. The makeup sex after a fight however… that’s something that makes up for every nasty thing that’s said in the heat of the moment.

Nearing the end of the semester you both start to grow more stressed, you about finishing your last classes, your thesis and studying for your finals, Harry about the growing pile of essays and tests waiting to be graded. A lot of the time when you’re at his place you both are busy with your own stuff and only have the chance to actually be with each other when you go to bed. It takes a toll on the both of you, but you’re determined to make it work. Despite the unfortunate nature of how you are forced to maintain your relationship, it’s the healthiest one you’ve ever head and you definitely won’t give up on it too easily.

Though you, Nat and Eden turn in your thesis works mid-April, the semester is still not done for the three of you, the final exams are threateningly close at this point. Spring has officially kicked in, the weather is mostly clear and sunny, allows you to stay outside again and you take advantage of it.

One particular afternoon the three of you are lounging under the pergola, all three of you buried in a book or your notes when you spot Harry walking towards the building. You keep your eyes on him as he slowly approaches you, his gaze meets yours and he smiles at you shortly. It’s all you can get out in the public, but it’s more than nothing.

“Isn’t it hard to see him?” Eden asks and glancing her way you see that she is looking at Harry who is now busy with his phone.

“Why would it be?”

“I don’t know, you clearly had a thing for him and it wasn’t even just a one-sided flirting like every other women had with him. I couldn’t be around him if it happened to me.”

“It’s not like anything major happened. It was all bad timing and the situation wasn’t good. It’s better this way,” you tell her, trying to sound convincing while the guilt is eating you on the inside. All these lies are clouding over your head and you have a feeling they will come down on you pouring one day.

“Still crazy that you are friends with his friends though,” Nat chimes in, squinting her eyes in the sunshine.

“Yeah, you are literally the only person on campus who gets to see him in his private life,” Eden nods. If only they knew how much you see him privately!

“It’s not that crazy,” you shrug, turning back to your book.

You all get back to work, forgetting about Harry, or at least Nat and Eden does, because you get a text from him shortly after he disappeared in the building.

Harry: You look very pretty today :)

Y/N: Flirting with me on campus, professor?

Harry: Can’t help it.

Y/N: You look handsome too, it’s a shame I can’t kiss you stupid!

Harry: Patience!

 “Y/N? Did you hear what I said?” Nat grabs your attention from the phone and you realize she was talking to you.

“What? Uh, sorry.”

“I said that we should go out this weekend. It’s been ages since we last did anything other than studying.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Don’t come with your usual, rambling about how we shouldn’t have any fun before we finish,” Eden rolls her eyes.

“That’s not what I say. I just think that we have priorities.”

“I don’t know about you, but it’s a priority for me to have fun, so I’m down for a night out.

“I think I’m passing,” you mumble. You already made plans for the weekend with Harry, take a hike up the hills since the weather has been nice and it would be great to spend time together outside the house. The hiking routes are far away enough from town that uni students don’t like to take the hustle to drive all the way out so you’ll be fine being together outside.

“If you want to say that you have something planned with your mystery man, don’t even bother. If it’s not his birthday, we are overruling him,” Eden scoffs and you roll your eyes at her.

“Just go without me.”

“That’s not the same!” Nat whines. “Come on, Y/N. For once choose us!”

“That’s rude I choose you guys a lot of times!”

“Not since you’ve been spending half your life with some man and the other half in the library.”

“Yeah, we feel abandoned!” Nat pouts at you, trying to make you feel bad and in all honesty, she is succeeding.

“We can doll ourselves up, have fancy cocktails and all that, it’s gonna be fun! Come on, just one night! I can’t take another Saturday sitting in my room, reading my notes,” Eden growls and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I guess I’m in,” you mumble and your friends start cheering as if you just declared that men and women are going to get paid equally from now on.

You can tell Harry is bummed that you have to cancel your weekend plans, but he is also trying to be understanding.

“I couldn’t bring up a relevant argument so they made me say yes,” you growl when later that day you’re cuddling on his couch after dinner.

“S’fine,” he sighs, leaning down he pecks your lips shortly.

“Wish I could just tell them that I had plans with you,” you breathe out.

“Y/N…” “I know!” you roll your eyes. “It’s just that it would be nice if I could at least tell them the truth.”

“We already talked about this,” he sighs.

“I know, but that doesn’t change the fact that it bothers me,” you point out. “Am I not allowed to feel that way?”

“You are, I just don’t get why you keep bringing it up when there’s literally nothing I can do about it,” he retorts.

“Well there is, you just choose not to.” And with that, you officially pick another fight with him.

It’s not that you enjoy fighting with him, not at all, but the situation is so not ideal and you find his overprotectiveness a little too much at times. You don’t understand why you can’t share it with your two closest friends. You could at least tell Sarah or the other guys, have anyone know about the two of you, but literally no one on Earth knows that you are a couple and it’s bugging you way more than it probably should.

“Why are you so damn keen on making others know about us? What does that have to do with anything?” he growls throwing his hands into the air, standing in the opposite end of the room as you keep pacing the floor, the urge to keep on moving taking over you.

“Because—“ you snap, but stop yourself. You know if you say it out loud, he’ll think you’re stupid.

“Because what?!”

“Because i-it makes me feel like we are not even real! I can’t talk about us, I can’t touch you outside of this house, no one knows we are a thing and it’s so fucking nerve-wrecking, Harry!” you break down, feeling your throat closing up. You didn’t mean to get emotional over this, but you’ve been bottling it up for a while now.

Harry’s shoulder fall forward as he sees the change in you, the heat of the fight long forgotten. He crosses the room, hands reaching up to cup your face in his palms, his thumbs running across the soft skin under your eyes as he wipes the tears away.

“Baby, I know. You think I don’t want to show you off? I want to hold your hand and just take a walk with you, kiss you whenever I want to, show all the horny fratboys on campus that you’re taken. I know it’s hard, but we really don’t have a choice until the end of the semester.”

He gently kisses the tip of your nose before pulling you to his chest, your arms circle around his waist as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, trying to stop your sobs.

“I’m sorry. I really wish it was all different,” he murmurs, kissing into your hair softly.

“No, I’m sorry for bitching about this all the time. I knew what we were getting into,” you exhale sharply. “It just… really sucks.”

“It does. But we just have to be patient.”

You manage to put the fight behind and move on in peace, but a tiny thought remains buzzing in the very back of your mind. What happens when you finish school? Will it all be different? Harry will still be a professor and if people see you around together, they will know you were one of his students. What’s gonna be the difference? If he is so on edge now, something is telling you he won’t be changing dramatically and it concerns you. A lot.

Not willingly, but you go out with Nat and Eden on Saturday. You go to a place that’s quite popular between students, you can most likely always find familiar faces from lecture halls and classes. It’s close to campus and more on the cheap side, the perfect spot for uni students for a night of fun.

As expected, you run into some people from school and they invite the three of you to sit with them at their table which comes in handy, because there’s no empty place by the time you arrive.

One drink follows the other and you easily get tipsy especially because you skipped on dinner before heading out. Though you weren’t in the mood for tonight, you find yourself enjoying the conversation and the company. It really has been long since the last time you went out with the girls and it’s nice to spend some time with them without the books and notes.

A debate starts about whose course one of the boys, Jace should take next semester.

“Professor Peltz is fucking boring, dude,” Nat growls, taking a sip from her drink. “Had him last semester, I could barely stay awake during his lectures.”

“Yeah, but they say he gives good grades easily,” Jace argues.

“Okay, but who else can you choose from again?” Lydia, a girl who lived a few doors down from you when you lived in a dormitory your first year.

“Um, Professor Makley and Professor Styles.”

You freeze at the mention of Harry, especially upon hearing Lydia’s reaction.

“Jace, choose Professor Styles! He is so fucking hot!”

“Not that it matters to me, Lyd,” Jace chuckles.

“Oh come on, I know even guys think he is hot.”

You feel like an intruder in the conversation, keeping quiet as you listen to her rave about how hot she finds Harry. It’s like you are eavesdropping on something that wasn’t meant for your ears, but it’s just the guilt bubbling inside you once again, because you know you won’t be able to say a word without having to lie.

“She has a point,” another guy, Garrett chimes into the conversation. “The man is handsome and I’m not even ashamed to admit it.”

“See?” Lydia chuckles. “He is sexy and smart, the whole package. I’ve been daydreaming about him since first year.”

You catch Eden’s look, but you just busy yourself with gulping from your vodka cranberry, feeling uncomfortable in the situation but not even for the reason she thinks. Eden must think it’s weird because you had an actual thing with Harry, but the truth is… that thing is still very much ongoing.

“I would let that man do whatever he wants with me,” Lydia adds sighing longingly, and you are having a hard time to hold your tongue. Unfortunately, you don’t succeed.

“Not sure he wants anything to do with you,” you mumble into your drink and though you hoped your comment would stay unnoticed, but you are out of luck.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Lydia slyly replies, a bit too full of herself for your liking. Yes, she is pretty and definitely doesn’t have problem with guys, but she is a little too confident about Harry if you’re being honest.

“I’m sorry?” you ask with a soft, bit annoyed chuckle.

“I’m just saying that we’ll never know who he finds attractive, because we all know he keeps himself so far from his students.”

“Yeah, maybe because he is not interested in any of his students,” you point out.

“As if he would ever make a move on any of us,” she snorts and you are losing your temper. You shouldn’t have had so much to drink, because now you really can’t hold your tongue.

“You can never know, Lydia. You can’t know if he acts the way he does because he is just trying to be professional or because he is, and consider this, not interested in you. Maybe he would actually act up on his feelings but you’re just not his type.”

Your comment is more like just a harsh comeback to Lydia’s words, but Nat and Eden kind of catch on that something is up with you. Ignoring their questioning looks you chug down your drink and soon excuse yourself to get some fresh air. No surprise that they follow you like puppies.

“Girl, what was that inside?” Nat asks as the three of you stand near the entrance of the bar, a few smoking guests littering the area.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you mumble, clearly avoiding to look at any of them, wrapping your arms around your upper body as if you were trying to keep your shit together physically.

“You snapped at Lydia for saying Professor Styles might have a thing for her,” Eden points out, but you just bite the inside of your cheeks.

“Because it was bullshit.”

“Why does that matter to you? Not that you’re together with him or something,” Nat argues and you roll your lips into your mouth, trying to keep a straight face but they know you way better than that. They gasp at the same time, Eden grabbing your forearm forcefully that makes you scowl.

“Hey! That hurts!” you whine, but she couldn’t care less.

“Are you fucking around with Professor Styles?” Nat whisper yells at you, eyes wider than ever.

“I mean… we’re not fucking around,” you mumble, looking down at your shoes as you kick the dirt around. “We’re kinda serious.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Eden snaps, drawing some attention at her and you let out an awkward chuckle at the glances the three of you get. “Are you fucking joking right now?”

“No, I am… not,” you admit, feeling a little relieved that you finally said it, but you also feel like you let Harry down with it.

“How long?” Nat questions in shock.

“Since New Year’s Eve. So… almost four months.”

“So he is the one you’ve been seeing all this time? The guy you didn’t want to talk about?”

“Um, yeah. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk about him, we just agreed that it’s safer if no one knows.”

“I’m speechless, Y/N,” Eden shakes her head in disbelief. “I can’t fucking believe you kept it from us for this long!”

“I know, I felt so shitty, but it’s such a complicated situation, it’s so risky, we don’t want it to ruin us.”

“Obviously,” Nat nods understandingly. “And now I see why you snapped so harshly at Lydia.”

“I just couldn’t stand her talking like that. You guys have no idea how hard it is to keep every fucking thought to myself.”

“Why do I have a feeling it has a little more to it than to just Lydia drooling over Harry?” Nat arches an eyebrow at you, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, you’ve been oddly tensed lately,” Eden agrees.

“It’s just pretty stressful to have a secret relationship, it causes a lot of tension. And I’ve been… I’m not sure anything is going to change after I graduate, if I’m being honest.”

“What do you mean?” Nat asks.

“I just…” you sigh, all your thoughts you kept to yourself flooding back to you at once, overwhelming you in a situation that’s already a bit too much to handle. “We keep saying that it’s gonna change when I graduate, but I don’t see it. He is so overprotective and even if I graduate, people will find out that I was once his student. And it might not be against the rules anymore, but we’ll be judged. I didn’t think it through before, but it’s now starting to be more and more clear for me and I just… don’t know if we can make it work.”

You feel the tears forming in your eyes, you’ve been keeping this to yourself for way too long now and saying it out loud just broke the dam. When Nat and Eden sees your lips trembling and the watery eyes you’re trying to blink away, they don’t hesitate to pull you into a tight hug.

“Aw, don’t cry! It makes me want to cry too!” Nat chuckles softly as they sandwich you between them.

“It just sucks so much, because I love him, but I feel like we met at the wrong time and place,” you sob, letting them crush you.

“It happens, baby. It happens. You’ll figure it out!” Eden kisses your forehead before they let go of you. “Want to go home?”

“It’s still early, don’t want to kill the party. I think I’ll just… head over to Harry’s for now. Is that okay?”

“Of course, do whatever makes you feel better,” Nat assures you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m sorry I was such a party pooper.”

You call yourself an Uber and text Harry that you are going over. Twenty minutes later you are walking up the stairs to his house and he opens the front door before you could even reach for the doorknob.

“Hey, baby,” he breathes out softly and you don’t say a word, just wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “Hey, what happened? Didn’t have a good time with your friends?” He delicately caresses your hair, walking the two of you inside so he can close the door before wrapping both his arms around you, holding you close to his chest.

“Don’t really want to talk about it,” you mumble and it’s the truth. You’re tired of these thoughts though you know you should talk to him about how you’ve been feeling about the two of you lately. Part of you is hoping something will just magically solve the whole situation and you won’t have to deal with it yourself.

Harry makes you a tea while you take a shower and once you are both in bed, you cuddle to his side while he reads some. You are just genuinely enjoying his closeness, because despite everything that’s been haunting you in connection with Harry, you really love this man. Like no one else before and the possibility of the two of you not making it long term scares you more than it probably should.

The next few weeks come and go in a sense of numbness. Following your emotional breakdown in front of the bar, you kind of push the whole thing to the back of your mind once again, putting all your focus on finishing school. Neither you nor Harry has the energy to put up more fights though you both can feel there’s a lot to talk about, but the end of the semester is just keeping you both way too busy to acknowledge the problems waiting on the corner.

At least there’s one less weight on your shoulders now that Nat and Eden know about you and Harry. You made them swear to their life they won’t tell anyone and you trust them to keep this heavy secret. They’ve been very supportive of the two of you, interrogated you one evening about everything that happened so far, they wanted to make sure Harry treats you the right way. No surprise, he does.

A few weeks before your state exam Harry extends his contract with the school to have him as a professor for another academic year so he is able to keep his visa as well.

You spend your last two weeks buried in your notes before your state exam and Harry gives you all the time and space you need, knowing well how much it means to you to earn the best grade possible.

When you are finally over your exam, you are celebrating at his place. He has bought a little cake and some champagne and you can’t wait to finally spend some time with him without having to worry about your studies.

“I’m proud of you, baby,” he smiles at you, clinking his glass against yours.

“Thank you, feels nice to be finally free,” you chuckle before taking a sip from the champagne.

“My smart girl, knew you’d kill all your exams.” He kisses your lips shortly before squeezing your hand. “How about I run a bath for us, we eat the cake in the tub and then we can watch a movie?”

“Sounds fantastic,” you smile at him before he disappears in the bathroom to get everything ready.

Finishing your champagne you wash the glass quickly and you’re about to cut the cake when your phone buzzes signaling that you’ve just gotten an email. As pull down the notification bar your lips part reading the first few lines. You open the whole thing and read through it eagerly.

It’s a job offer, but not just some lame one that also sounds sketchy at the same time. This one is from one of the biggest investigation offices in London and they are offering you a trainee position as a forensic document examiner with a possible secured spot on their team after one year. The money sounds amazing, the position is perfect, just what you’ve been dreaming of once you are done with school and they are looking forward to hear back from you about a possible interview in the near future.

“Alright, bath is coming together nicely, want to cut the ca—Wha’s up?” Harry questions upon returning from the bathroom, finding you staring at your phone’s screen with widened eyes.

“I, uhh—I just got a… a job offer,” you stutter, still rereading the lines, trying to find a sign that tells you it’s just a joke, but it seems completely genuine.

“What? Baby, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah,” you nod swallowing hard before you look up at him. “It’s in London.”

You watch his face fall from excited and happy to shocked and kind of panicky. You both know what that means, it doesn’t have to be said out loud. Harry just signed another year with the university that’s gonna tie him here for the next 12 months and if you accept the job you’ll be all the way across the world in the UK. Kind of ironic, him, the British guy stuck in the States while you, the American in the relationship, eager to go to the UK.

“That’s… wow. London.”

“Yeah, London,” you nod biting the inside of your cheeks.

“Are you… Are you gonna take it?”

“Well, they want an interview with me, but this is clearly a huge opportunity for me,” you say, not wanting to say the actual words. You feel like saying them would hit you harder than what you can take.

“It clearly is, it’s just that… You want to leave?” he breathes out, eyebrows knitting together.

“This is my only job offer and probably the best I’ll ever get.”

“So you do want to leave,” he forces and it’s pushing your limits.

“Career-wise, of course!” you finally say out loud, unwillingly.

“And what about everything else?”

“I clearly don’t want to leave everything else here, but I will never get a chance like this, Harry. This is the greatest push for someone like me, fresh out of school. I can have a secured spot in a year at a well-respected place. I’m not really in the position to reject offers like this.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure about what to do or say in the situation on his hand. You can tell he has a lot to say, but you’re not sure you want to hear all of them.

“Say something?” you softly plead and his eyes meet yours again, filled with concern.

“I just… It took me by surprise, I guess.”

“I wasn’t expecting it either.”

“No, not the job offer,” he shakes his head.

“Then what?”

“That you are ready to leave so easily. It’s like you never even wanted to discuss a version where you stay here, you just decided that you are leaving and that’s it.”

“Did you hear me? I cannot pass on this opportunity, Harry.”

“I did hear you,” he nods, pressing his lips together. “I heard that you didn’t even think about saying no.”

“Why would I say no?”

“Because I’m here, Y/N!” he snaps. “Good to know that I’m not a factor when it comes to decisions as big as leaving the country!”

“You are, Harry, but I need to think about my future career now. I’m not planning to work at an office for the rest of my life and if I pass on this job I might never get anything as good as this one,” you explain, but it seems like the two of you are having two different conversations.

“But why do I feel like it was never an option for you to stay?”

You give him a confused look. He really doesn’t see your point.

“Okay, why was only I supposed to change plans for us? You coming to London doesn’t feel like an option either, why are you trying to turn this against me?”

“I just extended my contract, you know that.”

“I do, and also, while we are at it, you didn’t ask me about that either. You didn’t even wait for me to figure out what I want to do after school, you just assumed that I would be here, but I never said that.” You can tell it hit him hard in the chest but somehow still, he thinks he is right when he isn’t.

“How could have I known you’d want to move across the globe?” he throws his hands up into the air.

“You’re saying this as if I didn’t just get the email and I’ve been plotting this the whole fucking time!”

“I’m just saying that it’s a huge fucking step and you decided so easily, it says a lot about the nature of our relationship.”

“Why are you saying that?!” you snap at him. “Why are you trying to make me the bad guy?”

“I’m not! I’m just saying that it would have been nice if you at least pretended like it was up for debate. You know what it’ll do to us if you move to London.”

“Then come with me!”

“I can’t!” He raises his voice, clearly losing his temper. “I can’t break my contract and you know that too.”

“Well, I can’t afford to say no to the job either and if I’m being honest, I don’t think we could have made it work even if I stayed.” The words leave your mouth before you could think about them, and the cat is finally out of the bag. It seemingly shocked Harry and he is now staring at you with a blank expression, shoulders falling forward.

“What?” he breathes out and you can actually hear his heart breaking. You take a deep breath and rub your face with your palms, trying to collect your thoughts and not just blurt everything out.

“I’ve been thinking and… Even after I’m officially out of the school, people will know that I was your student if they see us together. And I know how important your reputation is for you so I would never put you through any of the shit we might get for us being together. People would judge, no matter what the situation is. I don’t… I just don’t think we can ever make it work here.”

He stays silent, just stares at you, taking in your words and once again, you wish you could read his mind. You almost start begging him to say something when he finally speaks up.

“So you think we don’t have a chance?”

“Not here… maybe not now. I feel like this has been the perfect example of wrong place, wrong time,” you quietly say, a pang of guilt in your tone, this is not how you planned on making this conversation. To be honest, you wished this never had to come, but you were out of luck.

Harry is awfully silent, it’s all over his face how broken he is and you feel the same. You have so much love for this man, yet fate decided you don’t get to share it with him the way you want.

Walking closer you cup his face in your palms, searching for his eyes until his green irises meet your gaze. You run your thumb across his cheekbones, the pads of your fingers gliding softly over the soft skin. His hands slowly find their way to your waist and he pulls you close to him as you kiss him tenderly, a silent confession about just how much you love him.

“I wanted this to work. I wanted this so badly,” he whispers against your lips, his fingers digging into your back as he keeps you tight in his hold.

“I know. Me too,” you smile at him bitterly.

The rest of the evening passes by silently. You take a bath together, finish the cake anyway though even the sweetness can’t help the pain you both feel. Then you lie in bed for hours, just touching and feeling each other, making the best out of the time you have left. It’s unsaid, but you both know your days together are coming to a close end. Kisses and touches turn into some passionate love making, both of you desperate to feel as close to each other as possible and then you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

If you’re being honest, it’s all a blur following that night. You fix up an interview with London a few days later and they are not shying out of telling you straightforward that they want you there, the job is yours. You have one last short conversation with Harry about you leaving, but it’s more like just a confirmation that yes, it is going to happen and that leaves you with only a few weeks left together before you are packing up to leave the country.

You spend every possible free minute together until graduation where you finally get your degree. Your whole family comes and they cheer on you proudly, Harry standing in the crowd a little farther in the back, but still with a proud smile, a hint of gloominess in his beautiful green eyes. A week later you officially move out of your shared apartment with the girls, it’s a sobbing goodbye since all three of you are leaving in different directions following your graduation. You spend your last two weeks before your departure at home, spending as much time with your family as possible since you won’t be able to see them too often once you leave. Though your mom is dying to take you to the airport to say her final goodbye, you decided to give that time to Harry. He said he would drive to your hometown, pick you up and take you to the airport and you already know it’s gonna turn you into an emotional mess.

Leaving everything behind is hard, but having to say goodbye to Harry is the worst. It’s been a whole emotional rollercoaster for the both of you to get to this point and neither of you are ready to say goodbye, but this is what needs to happen.

That morning, you hug your parents, sister and brother tightly after you load Harry’s car with your two huge suitcases that have your whole life packed in them. You asked your family not to ask any questions about Harry and luckily, they kept quiet the whole time he was there, just treating him as a friend. You couldn’t take having to explain to them who he really is and how you met him, that’s gonna be another conversation for the future when you don’t feel like you’re about to start crying the moment you open your mouth.

The ride to the airport is silent, Harry holds your hand, your glued together palms lying on your lap the whole time. You haven’t even left but you already miss him so much.

Arriving he helps you bring all your stuff inside and patiently waits until you check your baggage in, leaving you with just your carry-on. Standing near the security check, the final moment finally comes and as soon as you look into his eyes you start bawling your eyes out.

“Oh baby, come ‘ere,” he breathes out, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Harry. I told you we would make everything right, but I couldn’t,” you sob into his chest as he holds you tight. You feel like if he let go of you, you’d just turn into a puddle at his feet.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he soothes you, his fingers threading through your hair.

“But it feels like it was,” you choke out. Harry leans back and takes your puffy cheeks between his warm palms, looking deep into your eyes.

“It wasn’t. As you said, it was just a matter of wrong time and place. But I think we brought the best out of it.”

“So… you don’t regret it?” you softly ask, eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“Absolutely not,” he smiles at you kindly. “I loved every moment of it. And I love you.” You notice how he didn’t use past tense when he said he loves you and you can’t decide if it aches your heart more or fills you with joy. A little bit both of them.

“I love you too,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his, savoring them one last time before you leave everything behind.

“Maybe we’ll meet again,” he smiles sweetly when he pulls back, tugging your hair behind your ear with a gentle move.

“I really hope,” you chuckle through your tears. “Take care, Harry,” you tell him, pecking his lips just once more.

“You too, baby,” he smiles, his hands falling to his sides as he lets go of you.

Turning around you walk into security and as you go with the line towards the gates, you glance back one last time. Harry is standing in the exact same spot, eyes glued to you as he watches you disappear from his sight.

It feels like the meeting is never coming to its end. You exchange a look with Jasmine, who seems just as tired and done with this two hours long discussion as you are. She grabs her phone from the table and you watch her something type out before she eyes at your device, signaling that she just texted you.

Jas: I need alcohol after this day. Want to have a drink with me after work?

Y/N: YES PLEASE!!!!!!!

You see her smile at her screen before both of you return to your boss at the front, talking about a possible upcoming case.

“And last but not least, I want to take a moment to bring light to the excellent work Y/N, our new full-time colleague did on the Santiago case. The police were highly satisfied with the fast and precise work you did. This was your first official case since you’ve decided to accept our offer to become a full member of our team and transferred from your position as a trainee. Congrats!” William, your boss nods in your way with a proud smile as a round of applause cheers for you from your colleagues.

“You go girl!” Jasmine mouths you from across the table and you just chuckle shaking your head.

The meeting finally wraps up and everyone goes on with their day. You are walking back to your office with Jasmine by your side. Your offices are next to each other and you started working here just three weeks apart. She is the same age as you and was approached the same way as well, it’s just that she moved all the way from Australia. The two of you have grown quite close, starting a new life at the same time in a foreign country, it easily brought you together.

“So are we leaving early for those drinks or what?” she asks poking your side.

“How early?”

“I don’t know, like fifteen minutes? Come on, it’s Friday, everyone leaves early!” You shake your head chuckling at her. She can be so restless sometimes, but it’s just the right amount that she can push you out of the comfort zone just enough.

“Alright.”

“Cool, I’ll come banging on your door,” she winks at you before disappearing for her usual coffee break.

It’s two in the afternoon, you still have a few hours ahead of you and some caffeine sounds perfect actually. Though the coffee at the office is excellent, you’ve grown to like this small place nearby, a family owned business that offers the best you’ve ever had.

You grab your bag from your office and head out for a quick coffee run. The walk to the café is freshening, the weather has been treating you well lately, the Sun is beaming and you can only hope you won’t wake up to pouring rain the next morning.

You think back to how lost you were feeling just a year ago, when all of this around you were so new and a little too much at once. One month into your time in London you even thought about quitting and moving back home. You felt alone and broken, yearning after everything you left behind. Your friends, family, loved ones, everything that was so far away from you.

It took you long weeks, even months to get used to your new life and now you can’t even imagine yourself anywhere else. It doesn’t miss you don’t miss terribly the life you had still, but now you have a lot to be happy about here as well.

Waiting at a crossroad, you find yourself twirling around the strawberry ring on your finger, your thumb fidgeting with it like every time you think about your home. You glance down at it and take a deep breath before the lamp turns green and you continue your walk to the café.

It’s not rush hours so there are only a few people lingering around the small place. You don’t have to think about what you are getting, James, the barista already knows your usual and starts making it right away as you swipe your card paying your drink.

You stand at the side, waiting for your coffee, staring out the window, watching people pass by on this lovely afternoon. Your gaze stops on an old lady sitting on a nearby bench, feeding a group of pigeons and you smile as a little girl runs through the birds, making them fly away instantly. The old lady just smiles at the girl, not holding a grudge that she just scared the birds away.

Your eyes move away, watching businessmen come and go, kids going home from school, wearing their school uniforms, everything just feels so… peaceful.

You are almost about to turn away from the window when your gaze falls on a tall figure near the Sainsbury’s across the road and your lips part as you catch a glimpse of a tattooed arm you know all too well. You blink once, twice, three times, waiting for your eyes to make sure it’s the person you think it is.

Harry is standing right there, holding a little bag of groceries, eyes glued to the screen of his phone, oblivious to your shocked gaze on him. Your feet move before your brain could think it through, they take you out of the café and you stand in the middle of the sidewalk as you call out for him.

“Harry!”

His head snaps up at his name, eyes looking around, searching for the source before they finally find you, a shocked, but seemingly joyful expression plastering over his handsome face. He is quick to shove his phone into his pocket before he watches both ways and runs across the road to meet you on the other side. You can’t push your smile down as you watch him approach you, his tall, fit figure getting closer and closer until he is standing right in front of you, watching you in awe.

“Hey,” he breathes out, both of you a little unsure of what to do, how to greet each other.

It’s been months since you last talked. After your departure you kept in contact, you couldn’t just distance yourself from him so abruptly, but the thousands of miles between the two of you made it almost impossible to maintain a working connection, the time zones, all the work you both were buried under and just life itself made you drift away from each other.

But he is now standing in front of you and though he looks slightly different, he is still the Harry you know and love. He is your Harry.

“What… what are you doing here?” you ask, finally finding your voice.

“Did you forget I’m British?” you teases you and you roll your eyes.

“I mean, are you visiting family or something?”

“I uhh…” he glances down at his feet before his eyes meet yours again. “I’m actually back.”

“What do you mean?”

“My contract ended in July and I didn’t… I didn’t extend it. I came back a few weeks ago.”

Your lips part at the information. Harry is in London, he is now in the same city as you, for the first time in a whole year.

“Really? That’s… wow.” There’s too much you want to tell and ask him, yet you stand there, blinking at him, still lost in the feeling of seeing him for the first time again.

“I actually wanted to contact you when I got back, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that,” he admits with a nervous chuckle and your eyes soften over him.

“What do you mean? I would have loved it if you called.”

“It’s just that we haven’t talked in a while and I didn’t know… I didn’t know where you’re standing about me.”

“Well, seems like fate did it for you,” you smile at him warmly. “I would love to catch up. I have to head back to work now, but maybe later?”

“What about after work? When are you getting off?”

“I finish at 5.”

“I can meet you at your work if you text me the address.”

“That would be great,” you nod smiling. “My number is still the same, so you’ll know it’s me.”

“Great,” he nods, the corners of his mouth curling up in a boyish smirk. You are just now realizing how much you’ve missed him.

“I, um…” You’re trying to find the right words, still feeling overwhelmed about the sudden run-in, but at last you decide to go for a hug.

Your arms wrap around his waist, he hesitates for a moment before wrapping you in his tight embrace, pressing his cheek against the top of your head. A shiver runs down your spine as the sense of home washes over you all at once, the warmth of Harry’s body making your heart flutter. Unfortunately, the moment must come to an end. His arms fall from around you, just like they did at the airport when you said goodbye to each other over a year ago.

“I’ll… see you later then,” he smiles as you are backing towards the entrance of the café.

“Yeah, later,” you nod and turning around you walk inside.

Arriving back to the office you drop by Jasmine’s office to tell her that you have to postpone your plans after work.

“What is more important than getting drunk with me?” she gasps dramatically.

“I ran into… I met Harry,” you tell her. You told her all about Harry one evening when you were out, just a few months into your stay. It was one of those days when you were feeling extremely homesick, or maybe you just missed him terribly.

“What? Your professor ex?” she asks with widened eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, you are forgiven. Go and get the man back!”

“What?” you chuckle. “We just met after a year, how do you know I want him back? Maybe I just want to catch up with him,” you say, but it’s an obvious and blatant lie and you both know that. Jasmine gives you a look.

“Please, you are still so obviously in love with the man, don’t even try to convince me otherwise.”

You don’t protest, just bite into your bottom lip. You really are in love with him, or the version you knew a year ago. He could be an entirely different person now so you can’t be sure if your feelings are the same about the man you met today.

“Have fun with him and then tell me all about it after, okay?” she beams and you just nod, leaving her to finish her work.

As time is slowly passing by you find yourself growing nervous about seeing Harry. That short little conversation on the street was not enough to calm your nerves. What is he like now? Is he the same? Does he have new hobbies? Is he as happy to see you as you are to see him? What will he think of you? What if he doesn’t like you after all this time?

You try to push the questions to the back of your mind, not wanting to overwhelm yourself too much to the point where you chicken out of seeing him. When you’re on your way down following his text that he is waiting for you in front of the building, you are trying to keep yourself together and remind yourself that it’s just Harry, he might be a little different, but he is still kind of the same.

Luckily, the moment you spot him waiting a few feet away from the entrance, you forget about everything else, he is the only one to exist. He envelopes you in a hug when you arrive, smiling at you warmly.

“Hi, ready to go?” he kindly asks and you nod.

You settle for a nearby bar you’ve actually been to with Jasmine before. Harry insists on paying for the first round of drinks as the two of you settle in a secluded booth at the back. When he is standing at the bar you catch yourself watching him in awe. The situation is quite odd, could have never happened probably back home, the two of you casually out for a drink.

“What’s gotten you so smiley?” he asks upon returning, sitting across you.

“I was just thinking how this is the first time we are out, just the two of us.”

Harry smiles softly, probably appreciating it just the same.

The next couple of hours you both try to share anything and everything that has happened in the past year. He tells you about his last year as a professor and him not extending his contact. Coming back to London he has joined a research group for a marketing company, using his excellent knowledge to analyze human behavior in connection with different type of ads.

“It’s a lot different from being a college professor ain’t it?” you tease him and he nods chuckling.

“Guess I wanted some change. But it’s been nice, I enjoy doing a lot of research and experiments.”

Then you tell him about your time as a forensic document examiner, all the different cases you worked on and how it has been, living in London on your own. He listens to your tales about everything you’ve done with Jasmine, the concerts and karaoke bars you’ve been to and just generally your life overseas.

“Sounds like you’ve found your place, then,” he says smiling softly.

“I guess. Wasn’t an easy transition, but I’m feeling good now,” you nod. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss my past,” you add.

His eyes wander down to your hands that are fidgeting with your almost empty glass. You see how they stop over the ring and he seems surprised as he reaches out, takes your hand in his and runs his thumb over the little strawberries.

“You’re still wearing the ring,” he states.

“Of course,” you smile and when he is about to let go of your hand, you grab it and hold it, needing to feel his touch.

You wanted to run back home so many times because you were missing him too badly, missed his voice, his eyes, his touch, everything and now, out of nowhere, he is here with you again, far away from the place where it all started and had to end for a while, still making you feel like home, no matter where you are.

At one point, you move to sit beside him in the booth. You just keep sharing and sharing even things you’ve talked about on the phone before. You’re just soaking each other in. His arm soon moves around your shoulders and you gladly lean into his side, placing a hand to his thigh, sparkles running through your body.

“I love this,” you hum to yourself upon finishing your last drink.

“Love what?”

“Being out with you without a worry. I always dreamt of this and it’s just… so natural. I wish we got to experience it before.”

“As you said, that was a wrong time and place. Wasn’t our fault.”

You lift your head, eyes meeting his curious green irises as he smiles down at you kindly. You’ve missed that smile, it still makes your heart skip a beat, just like at the beginning.

“And do you think it’s the right time and place now?” you prompt the question.

“It’s definitely… better,” he chuckles softly. “Unless you are seeing someone, because now would be the best time to tell me.”

“I’m not,” you shake your head smirking. “Tried to go on dates, but truth is… none of them were you. I gave up after a few terrible attempts.”

“I didn’t even try,” he shyly smiles. “I just… knew no one would make me as happy as you did. As you always do.”

Pushing yourself up a bit, you rest your forehead against his as he closes his eyes, his arm around your shoulder tightens and his other hand rests on your thigh, pulling you closer. Your palm slides up his chest and neck until you’re cupping his cheek. You place a soft lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, testing the waters out, seeing how he reacts though nothing that happened tonight tells you he wants to keep his distance.

He moves his face, nose nudging against you before his lips find yours in a kiss you’ve been longing for since you left him behind at the airport over a year ago. Your fingers lace through his hair, pulling him towards you as if he could escape from your hold any moment, but he is definitely here to stay. Your lips clash again and again, savoring each other, eagerly trying to make up for the time you lost since your departure. You melt into his arms, moving your legs across his lap as he pulls you to his lap in the booth, partially hidden from the rest of the bar, wrapped up in your little bubble. He tastes like home, his kisses feel like the first warm rays of sunshine after a long and cold winter, the only thing you couldn’t really get yourself over this whole year. Because you’ve become good at pushing your feelings down to the point where you could easily carry on, but he was always in the corner of your mind, making you wonder if you’ll ever meet again and if you do, will it be the same as before?

It’s not, because it’s better. The burdens and banters that tied you both down a year ago are now long gone, you have all the time and space in the world, nothing is restricting you. You can touch him and kiss him whenever and wherever you want. There’s no more sneaking around, no one here knows who you are and who Harry used to me to you. Here, you’re just another lovesick couple, so into each other it’s almost insane.

When he pulls back his forehead stays rested against yours as you both are trying to catch your breath. His hand runs up and down your thigh, the warmth of his palm melting your body under his soft touch.

“I love you,” he breathes out, eyes meeting yours.

“You still do?” you ask with a small smile, heart beating in your throat.

“I never stopped loving you,” he admits and you let out a shaky breath, pulling him down for a short kiss.

“Not even when I was an ocean away from you?”

“No,” he chuckles shaking his head. “If that’s possible, I loved you even more when you were away. I realized how much you mean to me and I could only hope you weren’t moving on without me.”

“I could never,” you smile at him softly. “I love you too much to do that.”

“You have no idea how much I missed you say that,” he breathes out with a soft chuckle and you kiss his lips shortly, assuring him that you feel the same way. “So… are we going to try again?”

“Do you want to?”

“There’s nothing I want more, baby,” he truthfully admits, his gaze softening at you as he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want to?”

“Of course,” you smile at him widely. “I think it’s settled.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[the-claire-bitch-project]

Just a Taste - Steve Harrington

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Rated: M (18+ ONLY) Minors DNI

Includes: Consent King!Steve, Nerd-but-stupid-sometimes!reader, insecurities on reader’s part, Steve being comforting, physical touch as a love language, lots of fluff in response to a little angst

Warnings: talk of controlling parents and college stress, failing classes, making out, fingering, oral sex (female receiving)

A bell rings above you as you open the door to Family Video. You inhale the familiar scent as you make your way inside. All of it is laid out just the same as you remember, so you turn right and head for the horror movies.

You’re not sure exactly what you’re in the mood for but you know you want a horror movie. Maybe Rosemary’s Baby or Psycho will do it. You pick up Carrie and examine the case. It’s worn and starting to fade. Probably from all the times you personally rented it in high school. Sighing, you put it back.

“Anything I can help y– oh hey, Y/N.”

You look up and take a step back in surprise. Steve Harrington of all people is leaning against the shelf with his other hand on his hip, looking at you as if he can’t believe you’re really standing there.

You feel the same. Steve Harrington working? That was new.

“You work here?” A stupid question given he’s wearing the vest with a name tag.

“Ah, yeah,” Steve looks down at his vest and then back up at you and cracks a smile, “didn’t make it the college route and my dad’s trying to teach me a lesson.”

“Oh,” you shift uncomfortably, “I’m sorry.” You feel guilty about your scholarship to Northwestern all of a sudden.

Steve waves you off as if it isn’t a big deal. “Don’t worry about it.” He rubs the back of his neck and you can see that it is a big deal.

“You’re the only one working?”

Steve nods. “Yeah, Robin had band practice for the Christmas Concert.”

“Robin Buckley?” You ask, raising your eyebrows. A faint face comes into your brain, but you’d never paid much attention to the grade below you.

“Yep.” Steve purses his lips and glances down at the shelf you’re hovering next to. “You looking for something scary?”

You shrug.

“Sure you don’t want a Christmas movie?” he points over his shoulder. “Lots of the ladies have come in for It’s A Wonderful Life.”

You shake your head and give him a half-hearted smile. “I’m okay. I’m not that into Christmas.” You sigh and turn back to the horror movies, expecting him to go away.

Instead, Steve comes around the shelf and stands next to you. His shoulder brushes yours as he reaches for a movie.

“Alien?” you say skeptically as you take the case from him. “Is it even that scary?”

Steve shrugs. “Maybe not for someone as into horror as you seem to be, but I liked it.”

You examine the cover art then flip it over and read the short summary on the back. It’s intriguing enough. “I’ll take it,” you tell Steve, handing him the case.

“Awesome!” He smiles at you, then turns and leads the way to the desk to check you out. He begins typing on the computer. “Do you have an account already?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Right, silly me,” he says, shaking his head as he types your name in. “Yep, looks like you, The Thing, Rosemary’s Baby, and,” he peers closer, “what in the world is Nosferatu?”

You giggle. “It’s this really old vampire movie.”

“How old?” Steve asks as he opens the case to check the tape.

“Like 1920s old.”

“Damn,” Steve whistles, “you really are a nerd for horror movies?”

You shrug. “You know me, I’m a nerd for everything.”

“Must be why you’re off at college doing all the big girl things and getting ready to rule the world.” Steve says it in a teasing way, but the comment deflates you.

The truth is, college hasn’t been going well. You failed chemistry and could barely get through your first computing course. The only class you really liked was your writing class. Essays have always been easy for you. Only writing doesn’t pay the bills.

“Hey, hey,” Steve puts his hand on your arm, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You sniffle and reach for the VHS case. “It’s okay, Steve, I’m just tired from the drive home.”

“You sure that’s all it is?” Steve presses gently on your wrist as you start to move away and you stop, because his hand is warm and his big brown eyes are comforting and concerned when you look up at him.

You sigh. “College isn’t really everything I thought it would be. And being home with my parents–” You turn away and pull your wrist from Steve’s hand. “Sorry I don’t mean to complain about it. I know I’m lucky to have the opportunity to go.”

“No, no, no wait,” Steve hops over the counter and stops you before you can walk out the door. “Just hang out for a couple minutes while I close up, okay?” You nod. “C’mere.” Steve leads you over to the counter and pats it. “You can sit here. Central. So you can see the whole store.”

You push yourself up on the counter and curl your legs underneath you to sit criss-cross. You play with the laces of your Reeboks as you listen to Steve rattle around in the back of the store, poking the plastic tip into the extra hole at the top. 

Steve comes around, no longer wearing his vest, swinging a keyring around his finger. “Did you drive?” he asks. You shake your head. You’d walked around after hours of driving home from school.

You jump down off the counter and walk through the door Steve holds open for you, your hair instantly blowing all around your face. You shiver and cross your arms around your body as you watch Steve lock the doors to the store, pulling on the door twice to check the lock.

“Come on,” he says, leading you over to his car. You recognize it as the same one he drove in high school. He opens the passenger door for you and you sink into the leather seat. It’s worn on the inside, some of the leather is beginning to fray, but it’s still a nice car. There’s a walkie talkie on the floor in front of you. You pull your feet away, making sure you don’t damage it.

“Where are we going?” You ask when Steve gets in and turns the car on.

“Oh,” he turns to look at you. “I was just going to take you home. Still over on Walnut right?”

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You sigh and sink back into the seat, looking out the window.

“Do you,” Steve hesitates, “not want to go home?”

“No, no it’s fine,” you try to assure him. As much as you don’t want to go home, if he wasn’t planning something, then you weren’t going to inconvenience him. You should’ve known better than to think Steve Harrington would want to hang out with you anyway.

“If you wanna hang out,” he says, “we can go to my house.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“It’s not intruding,” Steve insists, “I want to hang out with you. We can watch Alien.”

“Won’t your parents mind?”

Steve scoffs. “They’re at my dad’s company Christmas party. They won’t be home for a while and when they do they’ll be too drunk to notice.”

You hesitate another time, wondering if you should go home so your mom doesn’t get mad.

“You can call your mom from my house and tell her you’re staying over at a friends,” Steve suggests.

“Staying over?” you repeat.

Steve looks down and you swear he blushes. “You know what I mean. If you want I can actually take you to a friend’s after the movie. Bu–” He cuts himself off and clears his throat, shaking his head.

“Okay,” you say. Thinking, fuck it, you’ll just let your mom worry about you.

“Okay?” Steve repeats, looking at you intently.

“Okay.”

***

You’d never been to the Harringtons’ house even though it was only a few streets over from yours. It didn’t look too different, though you supposed since your father was also a businessman, that the income levels weren’t too different. You too, had gotten a car when you turned 16, never wanted for anything, clothes, new shoes, magazine subscriptions, makeup, and all the movie rentals you wanted.

Steve parks on the street and shuts off the ignition. “Home sweet home.” He says it so begrudgingly you can’t help but feel he has feelings similar to yours about living at home.

“It’s nice,” you say.

“Eh.” Steve shrugs. Suspicions confirmed.

Inside, you start to take off your shoes, but Steve grabs your arm.

“Take them downstairs to the basement with us,” he says, “so my parents don’t see them.”

“Right, makes sense.” You pick up your shoes and carry them with you as you creep down the stairs behind Steve, feeling sneaky even though nobody else is home.

Steve flicks on a light to illuminate a pretty cozy basement set up. The couch appears to have lost most of its oomph and the carpet could use a vacuum, but it’s not too bad.

On the other side of the room, there’s an unmade bed, a nightstand, and a dresser scattered with various boy items. Deodorant, cologne, a bottle of lotion, and–

“Is that Farrah Fawcett spray?” you ask, pointing.

Steve grimaces. “Yes.”

You nod. “It’s a pretty good product. Doesn’t leave the hair too crunchy like other sprays.���

Steve chuckles. “Yeah you’re right. I don’t like that weird greasy feeling.” He takes the VHS out of your hands and goes to crouch in front of the TV.

You drop your shoes by the stairs and sit down on the couch. It’s surprisingly softer than it looks. Steve pops in the VHS and the TV lights up. He goes to turn off the overhead lights before flopping down next to you on the couch with a groan.

He rolls his head to the side to look at you. “You didn’t want popcorn or anything did you?”

You shake your head. “I did not assume this was a full-service movie theatre.”

Steve shakes his head. “Sorry I can’t offer the works.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. You pull your legs up and hug them, settling back into the corner of the couch. Steve, who is spread out with his legs up on the coffee table, glances at you.

“You cold?”

“A little,” you admit. You’re only wearing a thermal shirt and jeans, which isn’t really enough to hang out in a midwestern basement in the winter.

Steve stands up and walks over to the dresser, opening a door and digging through it. He tosses a gray sweatshirt to you. “Should be clean.” It says Hawkins Swim Team on the front.

“Thanks.” You inhale as you put it on. Laundry detergent. Sonofabitch. It’s only slightly disappointing to borrow a sweatshirt from Steve Harrington and have it not smell like him. But hey, your high school self is screaming with delight that any of this is happening at all.

Steve is quiet through the movie, his eyes glued to the screen. You sit halfway turned towards him, just so you can watch him as much as you watch the movie. The whole time, he doesn’t move a single inch closer to you.

As it goes on, your shoulders deflate and you relax into the couch, letting go of your legs and stretching them out slightly. You still keep them within your allotted cushion, so as not to intrude on Steve’s space. Steve’s sweatshirt is big enough that you can pull the sleeves over your hands, but not so oversized that you’re drowning.

Steve glances over at you. You whip your head forward and glue your eyes to the screen, hoping he didn’t catch you looking. When you dare to glance at him, he’s looking back at the screen again, but he’s smiling. You turn back to the screen and sigh.

“Ah!” you yelp when Steve reaches over and grabs your ankles, dragging your legs out and putting your feet in his lap. He pats your ankle. “Steve!”

“It’s okay to stretch out, Y/N,” he says, “you don’t have to sit all the way over there like you’re not allowed to touch me.” He shakes his head. “I don’t have cooties.”

“Sorry,” you apologize, “I didn’t know how– what– you know–”

“Shut up,” Steve says, shaking his head and rubbing your ankle, “it’s about to get good.”

You turn your eyes back to the screen but you can’t focus on Ripley when Steve is rubbing your ankle with his thumb, kneading out tension you didn’t even know you were holding. When he starts on the other one, your head drops back against the armrest.

“Seriously, Y/N, what are you doing over at college to have arthritic ankles?” Steve asks with a chuckle.

“Walking,” you grumble. “Walking everywhere. Up hills, down hills, on ice, not on ice.” You lean up on your elbows. “It’s like a 20 minute walk between chemistry at 11 and computing at 12.”

“Chemistry and computing huh?” Steve says. “Smarty pants.” You know he’s teasing but it hits you right in the gut.

And that’s it. That’s what cracks the dam. You start crying.

“Hey, hey, hey, woah, woah, woah,” Steve pauses the movie and shuffles closer to you to wrap an arm around you and nudge your head down on his shoulder. “What happened? What’s wrong?” he asks as he rubs your back.

You sniffle, getting a faint whiff of his cologne through your now-stuffy nose. “I’m a failure,” you admit. “I failed chemistry and computing.”

“No, no,” Steve says hesitantly. “You’re not a failure. You’re like the smartest person in our grade.”

“Everyone at Northwestern was the smartest person in their grade,” you say, hiccuping. “I’m not cut out for it.”

“Okay,” Steve says, rubbing your back more intently. “So you failed those two. That’s two classes out of probably hundreds of classes at Northwestern.”

You sigh and wipe your nose with the sleeve of Steve’s sweatshirt. “I didn’t fail my English class.”

“See!” Steve exclaims.

“Actually,” you laugh a little, “I had the highest grade in the class.” You lift your head up just to see the excitement in his eyes.

“That’s so great, Y/N!” He says, “you’re good at English! Who needs chemistry and computing anyway?”

“Engineers,” you say quietly, slumping back down with your cheek on Steve’s shoulder. He wraps his arm around you and squeezes your shoulders. He’s warm and soft and comfortable. You’d sit there forever in his arms if you could.

“Who says you have to be an engineer?” he asks quietly, as if he knows the answer.

“My dad,” you whisper. “He expects a lot out of me.”

“Did you tell him you don’t want to be an engineer?”

You shake your head and some of your hair falls across your face. Steve reaches up with his other hand and brushes it back over your shoulder, careful not to mess up the curls. You can hear his heart beating a slow, steady rhythm, and slowly, your heart slows down too as your stress and anxiety start to melt away.

Your hands are still in your lap and the urge to lift one up and hug Steve back is hard to fight. But he’s right there and he smells so good and his shoulder muscles are a good pillow and his hand is warm on your back and you forget about the fact that he was the most popular boy in your grade and you were just the nerdy girl he came to for help with his homework,

You lift your hand and place it on his shoulder – the one you’re not resting your head on. Steve doesn’t stiffen under your hand, he just squeezes you tighter around your shoulders, holding you against his chest.

Before you lose your nerve and stop yourself, you lift your head and press your lips against his jaw. He jumps.

“I’m sorry!” you exclaim, immediately scrambling backwards, realizing you’re practically sitting on his lap but there’s nowhere to go unless you go over the arm of the couch. “Sorry, I misread that. I’m sorry.”

Steve catches you before you fall back off the couch and pulls you back into his lap. He grabs your face and kisses you hard. “You didn’t misread it,” he assures you. “I just knew you were stressed and didn’t want to make it wor–”

You kiss him again, reaching up to shove your fingers into his hair. It’s as soft as you’d always imagined, just like his lips – full and sweet against yours. Now that you’ve given him the green light, Steve wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him, gripping the fabric of the sweatshirt he lent you up around your hips.

Holy fucking hell. You’re kissing Steve Harrington. Steve Fucking Harrington is kissing you in his basement. He is laying you back on his couch and cradling you in his arms. Steve Harrington is pushing his thigh between your legs. Holy fuck.

Your mind can’t keep up with everything that’s happening as you and Steve slide down lay on your sides, barely fitting on the couch. But you throw your leg over his and he holds you and his arms – God his arms – are muscular and strong and you know he won’t let you fall.

Steve slides one hand down to your hip, encouraging you to move against his thigh. Between that pressure and the seam of your jeans hitting the right spot, you barely have the capacity to keep kissing him. His mouth is wet and hot as his tongue snakes between your lips.

You have to come up for air. You tilt your head back and reach up to push your hair away from your face. With your arm up, Steve takes the opportunity to push his hand under the sweatshirt.

“Okay?” he asks. You nod and suck in a breath as he untucks your shirt to slide underneath it. You shiver when his fingers pull down the cup of your bra and brush over your nipple. Everything about the situation is so intense and dirty and more than you ever imagined and both of you are still fully clothed.

Steve leans in and kisses your neck, sucking lightly on your skin as he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers. You instinctively move against his thigh, looking for any friction to satisfy the need between your legs. You almost forget you’re a virgin.

Almost. When Steve meets your hips with his own and you feel the hard bulge between his legs your eyes fly open and you almost roll backwards off the couch.

“Ah, fuck,” you say as you land on your elbow, legs still tangled with Steve’s, halfway on the couch and halfway off the couch. Pain shoots up your arm.

“What’s wrong?” Steve asks. His cheeks are red and his lips swollen. His chest heaves as he reaches down and lifts you back onto the couch. With your head cradled in his arm, you have a nice view of his chest as he strokes your hair.

“I’m a virgin,” you squeak out, not looking up to meet his eyes. Steve reaches down to lift your chin, so you’re forced to look into those big, brown eyes you like so much. “Is that okay?”

“I’m okay with whatever you’re okay with,” Steve says, leaning back against the couch and dropping his hand to your neck. “If you want to stop and go home, I’ll take you home. If you want to stay and just hang out, we can do that.”

“What if I don’t want either of those things?” you ask, knitting your eyebrows together.

Steve runs his thumb along your jaw. “Then you tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen,” he says simply, as if it’s that easy. Your face goes hot and you bury your face in his chest. Steve laughs, shaking the entire couch. You can hear it booming through his chest. “You’re thinking dirty thoughts, huh, Y/N?”

You shake your head and snuggle closer into his chest, denying what you’ve been thinking about since sophomore year of high school.

“Come on,” Steve says, “tell me.”

You look up at him. “Please don’t make me say it.” He smiles.

“Alright.” Leaning down to kiss you again, he somehow maneuvers to nudge you onto your back and then holds himself up over you on his elbows. “How about, I kiss you again, and you tell me if it’s an okay place to kiss you? Deal?” You nod.

Steve leans down and presses a soft kiss against your cheek. You smile, so he kisses you on the lips. “Face is okay,” you say softly.

“How about here?” Steve inclines his head to kiss your neck. You nod, inhaling sharply when he lightly sucks on your skin again. You push your hand into his hair as he moves to kiss your collarbone and shoulder through the sweatshirt. “Can I take this off to kiss your skin?” Steve asks, sitting up and tugging at the hem of the gray sweatshirt. You nod and sit up.

Steve lifts the sweatshirt and your thermal over your head, tossing them both aside as you wrap your arms around yourself against the sudden breeze and his gaze. Steve smiles and reaches for your hand. He lifts your fingers to his mouth. You gasp when he sucks on your index finger instead of kissing it, rolling his tongue around the tip and drawing it into his mouth before letting go with a light pop.

Placing your hand next to your head, Steve lifts your other one to his mouth and applies a light kiss to your palm. This one, he lifts and places on the back of his head as he settles down between your legs. You sigh happily as he kisses the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

His hands wind around your waist, rubbing your back as he makes his way across your chest with his mouth, down to the top of your bra. “Here?” he asks, his mouth hovering over your breast. You run your fingers through his hair, scratching the scalp with your nails. You nod.

Steve reaches up and gently slides your bra strap off your shoulder before pulling the cup down and taking your nipple into his mouth. He runs his tongue around it as his hot breath fans out over your skin. You inhale deeply, fisting his hair in your hand.

Chest heaving, you arch your back and let Steve reach behind you to remove your bra, which he places gently on the coffee table. This time, you don’t clam up, keeping your hands next to your head on the arm of the couch.

“Wow,” Steve says, openly staring at your chest. He rubs his chin and blinks. “I– Wow.”

“Steve Harrington is rendered speechless by boobs?” you ask.

“I mean,” Steve scoffs, “I am by those.” He reaches down, cupping a breast in each hand. “Wow.”

He spends a bit more time with your boobs before making his way further down your body. Your stomach turns as he presses kisses along the bottom of your ribs, then along the waistband of your jeans. He taps the fabric covering your hip bone.

“Here?”

You nod, reaching down for the button of your jeans, but Steve swats your hands away, undoing the button himself before drawing down the zipper. He pulls down the waistband just enough to reveal your hip on that side and kisses you. Goosebumps spring up all over as he sucks your skin into his mouth again, a slight pain shooting through your core. You twist slightly, trying to squeeze your thighs together.

Steve sits up and you think he’s going to pull off your jeans, but he doesn’t. He reaches up and yanks his shirt over his head, tossing it aside. He leans down to kiss you again but you shove him back by the shoulders.

“Wha–”

“Shh.” You run your fingers along his collarbones and down his chest. Crafted through years of swimming and basketball, Steve still has the body of an athlete. Except now he has chest hair. You run your hands over his chest again, feeling the course but soft texture.

“You good?” Steve asks, holding his hands up near his head. He’s grinning down at you, watching you. You let your fingers trace down the planes of his stomach, still hard and muscular.

“I’m good,” you tell him, smiling as you reach for his hands to pull him back down on top of you. He rests carefully on top of you, his skin warm against yours as he kisses you again. It’s gentle and wet and a little sloppy, but perfect.

Steve pulls away just enough to speak, his nose still brushing yours. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

“Mmhm.” You nod and tilt your chin up to kiss him again. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth before letting go.

“I just want you to know I didn’t expect this when I brought you here,” he says softly. “But I’m happy it’s happening.”

You smile. “I didn’t think you expected anything,” you tell him, “you wanted to take me home, remember?”

Steve grins. “Well I didn’t want to take you home,” he leans down and kisses your cheek, then whispers in your ear, “I wanted to sit you up on the counter at the video store, spread those beautiful legs of yours, and find out what you taste like.”

You squeeze your thighs around Steve’s hips, wiggling underneath him. He tucks his head into your neck and grinds against your hips in response. Pleasure shoots through your core, knots tying themselves in your belly.

“You really think that?” you ask quietly, “About me?”

Steve lifts his head from your neck. “Well,” he raises his eyebrows, “maybe not always. But you came in wearing these tight jeans,” he grunts as he reaches down to squeeze your ass, “and I remembered how nice you always were to me. Helping me with homework and stuff, you know.”

“I always figured you were just using me,” you admit, “but I let you because you’re so pretty.”

One side of his mouth quirks up into a smile. “I wasn’t using you,” he tells you, and you almost believe him.

“Why are you being so sweet to me?” you ask, furrowing your brows together.

“Because,” Steve pauses, “I don’t know.” He sighs and rolls off of you to the side. “I guess maybe I’m trying to be a better person than I was in high school. Give more people a chance.”

“Even nerds like me?” you ask.

Steve scoffs. “Y/N, who did I date in high school?”

“Nancy Wheeler?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “And is Nancy Wheeler a popular cheerleader type or–?”

You groan. “She’s smart too. You like the nerdy girls.”

“Yep!” Steve kisses your cheek. “Why do you think I kept coming to you for help with my homework after she dumped me?” You roll your eyes over to look at him. Steve squeezes your waist and leans in to whisper in your ear. “Because I always thought you were cute.”

“You did?”

Steve chuckles. “How many times do I have to say it before you believe me?”

“Maybe just one more,” you say, smiling as you lean in to kiss him. Steve cradles your cheek in his hand, gently pushing his tongue into your mouth. Without thinking, you suck on his tongue the way he sucked your lip into his mouth.

He squeezes your waist and grinds his hips against your side, groaning into your mouth. “You’re so fucking sexy,” he gasps when you let him go. “God–” he leans in and kisses you again. His hand slides down your neck, down between your breasts, and rests on your stomach.

Inch by inch, he moves down your torso, fingers tickling your skin. When his pinky finger brushes the top of your panties, he stops and lifts his head to look at you. Your eyes flutter open.

“Here?” he says softly, barely above a whisper as he slips his pinky finger into your panties.

Your chest tightens and you inhale sharply in anticipation. You nod.

“There.”

Steve kisses you again, just folding your lips together, as he slides his hand beneath the fabric, touching you in a place you’ve only touched yourself before. You inhale sharply as his finger brushes over your clit.

You gasp against his lips, reaching up to grip his shoulder as he circles it gently, sending pleasure through your body. You lift your hips up to meet his hand, involuntarily grinding against his fingers. He stretches his fingers down to spread the wetness leaking from you up around your clit, and you relax a bit in his arms.

“You’re good?” he asks softly, barely pulling away from your mouth so his lips brush yours when he speaks.

“I’m good,” you say faintly.

Steve kisses your lips one more time, then lifts his head. “Do you want to take your jeans off?”

You look up at him and nod, biting your lip in anticipation. Steve grins and gives you a quick kiss before sitting up on his knees at the other end of the couch. He grabs the waistband of your jeans and pulls as you lift your hips.

“Don’t need these,” Steve says, balling up your jeans and tossing them aside. He leans down and reaches for the waistband of your panties, but stops and looks at you.

“Don’t need those either,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself against the chill you feel without Steve on top of you.

Steve smiles and pulls off your panties. You curl your legs to the side as he places them gently on the ground.

“I’m scared, Steve,” you say softly. He rubs your knees gently with his hands.

“Of what?”

You hesitate. “That you won’t like it.”

Steve sinks back on his heels and sighs. “You’re not still on about this are you?”

You cover your eyes. “I’m sorry! I’ve never done this before! I don’t know, every other guy acts like whatever this,” you gesture between your legs, “is it’s the most disgusting thing ever and the idea of being near it will turn them into like, a worm or something!”

Steve frowns. “Someone said that to you?”

“It was implied once,” you grumble.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve says, grabbing your wrists and pulling them away from your face. “That guy was the biggest idiot ever, whoever he was. Everything about you is, is–” he shakes his head, “is tantalizing okay? It is a goddamn privilege to be with you, and don’t you let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?”

You nod, furrowing your eyebrows together. “Okay.”

“Now,” Steve puts his hands back on your knees, “can I please, please get between your legs because I did not anticipate having to work this hard just to go down on you.” You can tell by his smile that he’s not mad. This is Steve Harrington begging you to let him eat you out. It’s not something you ever could have imagined.

“G–go ahead,” you manage. You close your eyes, sliding down to rest your head on the couch cushion,

Your eyes shoot open, staring unfocused at the ceiling when you feel Steve’s mouth on you. It’s warm and it’s wet and nothing like anything you’ve ever felt before. You gasp for air at the overwhelming sensation of him sucking your clit into his mouth.

“Steve, holy shit,” you cry, reaching down for his hair.

He raises his head for a second. “It’s good right?” You push his mouth back down between your legs. Before he starts lapping at you again, you feel him smile and you smile a little bit too. You throw your arm over your forehead as you watch Steve, gripping his hair between your fingers. 

He looks really pretty, his eyes closed and his brows furrowed in concentration. He wraps his hands around your thighs, kneading lightly with his fingers. He comes up for breath.

“God you taste good,” he pants, “like way better than I imagined.” He dives back in before you can respond. One of his hands slips off your thigh and he looks up at you. You can see the question in his eyes. You nod.

“Oh holy shit,” you gasp when he slips a finger inside you. There’s a new sensation. Not quite a stretch, but a welcome invasion. When he curls it and strokes the walls inside you, your back arches involuntarily. Moans fall from your lips. He’s playing your body like it’s an instrument.

The pleasure in your core builds and builds until it finally crescendos. Your legs shake and you dig your heels into Steve’s back to keep from kicking him. You fist his hair between your fingers, threatening to rip it out by the root.

And then it’s over and you flop back down on the couch cushions breathing hard. Steve licks your pussy with the flat of his tongue one last time as he withdraws his finger. You lift your head just enough to watch him stick his middle finger in his mouth and suck on it, staring up at you. 

He pulls his finger out of his mouth and grins as he leans over you. He brushes your hair off of your neck and rests his hand on your cheek.

“Good?”

You nod. “More than good.”

Steve grins and leans down to press his lips against yours. His lips are salty now, and you realize it’s your taste. The taste he’d been lusting after the whole time. You smile against his lips. Maybe soon you’ll be ready to taste him too.