#i didn’t mean for it to get this long but now it’s 3 big paragraphs with no dialogue SCREAM

[skoulsons]

Triage Analysis part 1

WARNING: heavy talk of suicide and attempts, so just a forewarning

I wrote the later paragraphs first and then went back to the beginning ones, so if I repeat something like seven times, please forgive me as I wrote this a bit out of order :)

SECOND PART IS HERE

“Second day.”

“I’ve gotta hand it to the Army people. They were way better at stitchin’ you up than I was.”

“It was me.”

He stood back as she continued on. He stood and waited to tell her about it. Even though he claims, “there’s no story,” he stops for that exact reason. He tells her a vulnerable and emotional part of his story. He could’ve continued walking and telling her about his attempt in a nonchalant way. But this is something he needs her to hear. Something he wants her to hear because he understands what she’s fighting right now, and he is willing to put such a heavy part of him out there in hopes that she will lean on him and his understanding of what she’s going through. He hangs back because this is something you sit down for. Even if you’re just sharing this part of your life with another person to let them know that part about you, it’s not something you just bring up in a passing conversation. It’s serious. It’s worth sitting down over. It should be heard in an intimate setting, and that’s exactly how they do it.

“I was the guy who shot and missed.”

There’s a hint of confusion when she first looks at him. She was told at the start of their journey together that it happened in a gunfight. That he and someone else had a back and forth of missed shots and he was grazed in the process. And she, until this point, has believed that as the truth. Joel has obviously come up with that as his cover story for where his scar comes from. It makes sense to be grazed like that, especially in the world they live in. More than this, Joel was always honest with her with everything he told her, and she knew that. Why doubt him? Furthermore, she didn’t know how broken he was at the episode 3 point of their relationship. Him contemplating and attempting suicide wasn’t on her list of things she expected him to have thought about or tried. Maybe once or twice, but not convincing enough for the thought to last.

And then it’s understanding. It’s this moment of, oh, you mean you missed in that way, but she doesn’t quite know why until he says. Now, we don’t know how vulnerable he’s been these last few months post-David. We see how he’s grown and how he smiles and continually tries his best to keep Ellie engaged and cheer her up. But I do wonder if he has opened much prior to this. They have obviously reached a point of her mental drowning and them getting closer to the hospital for him to bring this up and not earlier on in their journey on after David. Maybe he thinks it’s been long enough since David to comfortably talk about this and for her to not brush him off or refuse to talk about it. Maybe he recognizes some of her survivor’s guilt. Maybe he sees how traumatized she truly is becoming more and more clear to him the more days they’re out here. Maybe he’s thinking about the hospital and how it’ll all go and how she may say “yes” (assuming in his mind they’d both, you know, be told what’s going on and actually be talked through it and told the whole truth of everything) to something like this being done. How he may see she’s not in a good place mentally to make a choice like that on her own (that is if they never did bloodwork or anything else to actually be smart about the whole thing?? I’m not medically educated whatsoever. But if the fireflies actually did take their time and run tests and whatnot, the outcome would most likely be different and she’d be able to make an educated decision with Joel). It’s hard to tell. Maybe a mix, maybe none of those at all and I’m just lying to you all for the sake of overanalyzing.

“There’s no story,”

He’s downplaying it saying it’s not a big deal; there’s no story to it. That his attempt isn’t something “big” that happened to him. That it doesn’t…mean anything. That it didn’t change him as a person. I think, for those of us who are, or have been, in my case, suicidal, we tend to downplay it. We say it’s not a big deal; that it’s passed and we’re fine now (I hope you all are, i love you guys very much <3). It’s often done, as well, to not burden the other person with the information, so we try and say it’s not big deal so that they aren’t concerned for us, if you will. Or maybe that’s just been my case. Joel isn’t telling her this to burden her with the information, though she may still hold on to it, it’s because he wants to help her through the thoughts he knows so well, and this is how he needs to approach her.

This is also when he starts fidgeting because he’s talking about it now. He’s talking about Sarah by name (for probably the first time with Ellie). He’s opening up in a heavy way. He’s talking about his attempt. This old, hardened, survivor of a man is sitting here rubbing the sides of his boots, kicking up dust, and messing with the inside of his cheeks because he’s nervous. He’s reliving old feelings. He’s remembering how he was when he tried; tears streaming down his face hours after Sarah because he couldn’t take living without her. Reliving the mental exhaustion, the depression, anger, denial, and believing he’d failed her. That he’s convinced himself of allowing Sarah to die and he has ultimately failed as a parent. And that probably not being the only time he thought he failed her. He was a single father, he held himself to a high standard when it came to raising and treating her. Maybe he came home too late some nights and she was already asleep. Forgetting about the cake for his birthday that she wanted him to getso they could celebrate together. He probably dropped her off late to school sometimes. Maybe she had some of that teenage anger that they always have when they’re young and she yelled at him and he believed what she said. Maybe the lurking thought in the back of his head that questioned his role and skills as a father. “Am I doing enough? Am I raising her well? Am I good enough for her?”

“Sarah died…and I couldn't see the point anymore. Simple as that.”

First off, his voice cracks at Sarah, further confirming my thought of it being the first time he’s mentioned her by name to Ellie, or aloud at all since her death. My guess, at least. He never looks at her. He’s fidgeting with his feet the whole time while avoiding her gaze. Afraid of how she’ll look at him, maybe, even for a moment. But talking about something personal, especially this, can be uncomfortable. It’s a mix of anxiety and maybe a slight fear of judgment; like she’ll look at him differently after hearing this about him. He’s doing this to help, but it’s not like you’re full of confidence in doing so. Joel already deals with a ton of anxiety as is, so it makes sense.

“And I wasn’t scared, either. I was ready. I couldn’t have been more ready.”

Again, not meeting her gaze. Something that really strikes me in this scene is his, “I couldn’t have been more ready”. I was suicidal for a very, very long time. I’m no longer, praise God, but this is the real rock bottom of it. Knowing full well and clear that you are ready to die. You have truly reached your limit. A lot of the time, there is something that holds your thread. A person, a thing, a group, a motto, whatever it may be. But sometimes, you reach a point where…none of those can uphold you anymore. None of that is worth continuing on for. And for Joel, that was Sarah. The second he lost her, he was ready. “Second day,” as he said. This means hours after Sarah, as she died around 2am the second day the outbreak hit Austin (the guy at the bar that Tommy got arrested over was basically a runner, if I’m correct. That was at 11pm. So, second day to get all practical on you guys). He suffered such an incredible loss that he was ready, right then and there. He lost his breath. He lost his reason for living. That little girl that hugged him tight, cooked breakfast for them, snuggled with him, made sure he got vitamin c, asked him to carry her to bed, who probably kissed him on the cheek when she was little, rode on his shoulders around the county fair, and was emotionally comfortable with him to joke and tease at him without fear of a reaction was gone. And to add the apocalypse on all of it doesn’t make that decision any easier. Tommy could not bring him out. There was no hope for him whatsoever. The world was not going back to normal and Sarah was not coming back to him. He probably purposely got away from Tommy so that Tommy wouldn’t be around. Or, maybe Tommy walked away briefly for whatever reason and Joel had his revolver back, so he took the chance while Tommy’s back was turned to him. But then he fires and Tommy hears it and Tommy freaks out, helping him into that triage for medical help. Tommy probably knowing why and Joel breaking down because “why did I have to flinch?” How Tommy probably tried his best, at least for awhile, to help Joel through it. To keep him out of more attempts. And then they join a group together and Joel directs his anger in that. In torture and murder, even innocent people. His grief and anger fuels how he lives, eventually terrifying Tommy enough with his violence for Tommy to leave him. And then he meets Tess and things are sort of okay for a while. He finds things that keep him barely treading water, no matter what or who they were. Her, pills, alcohol, violence, whatever he can can get his hands on.

“When I- when I- went to pull the trigger…”

Again, continued avoiding her gaze. Now, a anon in my inbox mentioned how Joel’s attempt is why his hearing is also bad, which is a very realistic and most likely correct guess. Maybe firing so many guns could add to that, but it is never mentioned nor insinuated for any other character, even characters it would be more likely for. Tommy, Tess, even Kathleen or Perry or anyone else. So, anon, a fair and probably correct assumption and something that Joel has also created a cover story for, if it is because of his attempt.

He hesitates a bit here saying it because this is the action of doing it. That he did it; it happened. He didn’t just contemplate or idealize or just plan it out and think about it. He acted and pulled that trigger.

“...I-I-I- I flinched.”

He chuckles when he says this. A mix of a coping mechanism, considering he’s probably never told anyone about it, so he fidgets with his feet and bites his cheeks and chuckles. A bit of almost disbelief that he did flinch. How flinching put him exactly where he is now. Thinking that, if he didnt, he'd be with Sarah right now. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be sitting here right now with this little girl who he is in love with (platonically!!!!!) and cares for just as much as he did for Sarah.

It’s interesting and also incredibly heartbreaking just how close the shot was to him, considering he has a physical scar from making contact with a little bit of skin.. Assuming he used his revolver and not Tommy’s rifle, he would’ve held the barrel against his temple, shaking. Either he flinched his head or his hand away, his head tuning to the left and the barrel of the gun being a bit askew now, grazing his temple, or his hand flinches toward his face and he fires as he does, the bullet grazing him. In both cases, firing not even an inch from his ear and the bullet whizzing right past his eyes, causing permanent hearing damage.

“Still don’t know why.”

This isn’t so much a fidget on her end but almost a reaction to him chuckling at himself. It’s not funny, of course it’s not, and she shuts it down fast, but for a moment I think she’s thinking what he is. Disbelief, that he wouldn't be here if he hadn't. That they would've never met. That the man she has grown to care for, love, protect, and follow anywhere would not be here.

She has never had a father; doesn’t really know the standard to hold them to. Joel is her and only example of one, and he couldn’t have been a better one. She’s never loved a man like a father and she doesn’t know the relationship fathers and daughters typically have and how special they can be. She learns to love him the way she knows how. The way she can considering her personality, their circumstances, and the world they live and what they’re subjected to. But she feels a connection with him early, considering her willingness and to ask him questions, trust him, believe what he tells her, and putting her life in his reluctant hands. He does not feel that same outward connection to her as early as she does (he may show some, but I think feeling the genuineness of it all and it not all just being the buried and instinctive fatherhood side of him coming out later are a bit different), considering he still tries to push her away and keep her at a distance. But when all he does is reassure her, make sure she’s safe, tries to preserve her young innocence from the atrocities of the world, ask her about Linda Ronstadt, watches over her as she sleeps, shows her what a seatbelt is, asks her if she’s okay and nearly falls to his knees to embrace her on the ground after Sam, she starts to view him more than a smuggler. More than just a protector. She genuinely cares about him now. She views him, to her best judgment, as a father. And for her to now see this man be so vulnerable and talk about his attempt and for her to look at him and think, “I would've never known and loved you,” is cause for her disbelief and gratefulness that he didn’t flinch.

“Anyway, the reason I’m telling you all this is b-”

“I know why you’re telling me all this.”

(credits to Meg she helped me and my 1am brain with this. I love you brother) He loves her, plain and simple. This whole conversation, not just his whole “it wasn’t time” thing (as profound and emotional that sentence is alone), is him telling her he loves her. She is struggling, he sees it clear as day. Spacing out, dissociating, being extra quiet, the whole thing. He knows what that’s like because he’s been in that exact situation. She’s fighting so many demons every minute and he is seeing it. He understands how the trauma from Winter is affecting her. He understands what she’s going through. Maybe not completely as the situations are different, but the reactions are similar. The thoughts, the temptations, the ideation, the guilt. It’s the same reaction to both of their debilitating traumas. And Joel recognizes the weight of how it is affecting her. Riley nor Sam nor anything else she’s been through has made her react in this way, so he knows it’s bad. That it’s getting close to his “second day”. He is going to try and do whatever he can to keep his little girl as far away from that if he can help it.

So, how does he go about it? He puts himself out there. He makes himself vulnerable. He gives himself to her. He opens up and he tells her about such a deep and emotional part of his past. He opens up to try and get her to open up. He tries to sympathize with her. He wants to take what she’s struggling with on him. He wants her to tell him everything so he can hold all of it. So Ellie can get it out and shout it and cry and how he wants take every ounce of it on himself. His own trauma and the weight that threatens to drown him is not important; she is. But she doesn’t tell him what happened during Winter. She doesn’t want to rehash it; it’s terrifying and painful and traumatizing. He doesn’t know the thoughts she’s having and how exactly he can help her, and that’s frustrating. To not be able to help her the amount his heart so desperately wants to. To let what she’s gone through crush him as long as it means she can breathe. But she also doesn’t want to tell him because she wants to spare him the weight and pain. She doesn’t want to burden him and upset him with all of it, so she keeps it quiet. He wants to carry it to relieve her, but she wants to carry it to relieve him.

He’s telling her he loves her. That he cherishes her. That she is his daughter and he wants to help her with this. He wants to help her through this. That he is willing, he WANTS to take all of it. She is not a stranger to him anymore. She is not some random kid he’s trauma dumping on. She’s his child, his daughter. He’s telling her this hoping that she will open up and lean on him. Because, as a loving father, that’s all he wants. He wants to take those burdens and pains and pile them on his shoulders as he supports her up in their walk together.

(I feel as though I have put this thought in here already but I don’t know and I would like to include it and I can’t find any of my 60 paragraphs if I already have, so forgive me). He is glad he missed. He is happy he missed. He knows what that feels like, and the fact that he found something to fight for, he wants Ellie to experience that same thing. Whether that be Joel or something/someone else, he knows, now, that there is a thing out there to keep going for. And he wants her to find that. This is an even stronger argument for his end choice, as well. As a lot of this fandom has already discussed, she probably would choose to die for it. Her being 14 years old with such tremendous survivor’s guilt and feeling helpless to save Riley, Tess, and Sam, she’d probably make it. This thought wouldn’t have been at the front of his brain while saving her, but it reinforces the idea of him wanting her to find something to fight for. If she gave herself up to the Fireflies, she would never find that thing or that person that Joel knows is out there for her, and he wants her to find it. He wants het to know that she’ll get through this and things will get better in time. He knows firsthand this, and that’s what he wants for her. To continue, for her to see and experience that Better.

Also, can we take a moment to how unbelievably gentle and good he is when she has these moments? And how he’s tried to keep her engaged. He doesn’t raise his voice once at her. He shouts her name when she’s sitting in the bed of the truck, but it was just to get her attention, not in a way that indicated him upset or frustrated with her. He hands her the rifle to hold while he puts his back on, keeping her with him and engaged. He talks to her constantly, even about the small things. Telling her about finding Beefaroni after she mentioned how, “that guy (Chef Boyardee) was good.” Actually showing her Boggle and telling her she’d beat him at it. And, of course, the guitar, which is a whole thing. Guitar and music being a hobby and something he loves so dearly in life that he wants to teach her all about it, even after not having played or read any music in twenty years. He wants to pass an important part of him and something he loves so much down to her. Once they’re in the building as well and he’s about to boost her up and she spaces out more. The first thing out of his mouth is, “you okay?” He keeps his distance a bit from her as he asks which makes me thinks that, in the past few months, he’s been close and she’s gotten claustrophobic, so he’s made a note to give her some space unless she initiates any proximity. And he mentions her being extra quiet and she apologizes to him, feeling bad. He is not putting an ounce of blame or trying to make her feel bad, instead he’s making an observation and it shows he cares that he is seeing a clear difference in this day compared to others. But she apologizes anyway because she probably thinks she’s hurt his feelings or is ignoring him or something of the sort. And he immediately shakes his head side to side as his face softens and he says, “no, it’s fine.” He is so careful and gentle with her while she’s struggling. He is nothing but gentle and loving the whole episode. Part 2 will start from here :)

#hooopefully this all makes sense #it’s been in the works since Sunday #if not blame 2-5am me over the course of the past like five days #also I’m literally not an expert #please take anything o say with a grain of salt #will post part 2 soon #just gotta paste it in here and do all that good stuff #the last of us hbo #tlou spoilers #joel miller #ellie williams #L analyzes

[goldnskyart]

Skateboards and jam 3/?

This is probably my favourite thing I’ve ever written, especially the last few paragraphs, so I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do😭

ao3 | <- Previous | First | Next ->

Instinctively Roman put his arms out to catch himself, and this time it worked. His hands and knees hit the ground hard. Virgil was too caught up in his own thoughts to realize what was going on before he was on the ground, flat on his back with Roman’s hands on either side of him. His face started to flush again, accidentally locking eyes with the other, who was awkwardly leaning over him on shaky hands and knees. Those eyes truly were something special with how they kept making his heart race. Roman froze for a moment, his body screaming in pain. And on top of that this was undoubtedly the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done. ”I’m sorry.” He almost whispered, before quickly trying to get on his feet using his right hand, putting more weight on it he softly winced before smoothly switching to using the left one instead. Trying his very best to keep face and pretend nothing hurt.

Virgil's eyes widened noticing his pained expression, damn he really hurt himself this time. Worried he quickly followed him up, brushing the dirt off the back of his black jeans. But Roman got there before him, “Are you alright??” He asked, looking at him with big worried eyes. “Yeah, I’m alright, don’t worry about it.” He replied, still trying to get the stubborn dust off his pants. “Turns out this really isn’t my thing, huh?” Roman chuckled, his face burning red. He couldn’t believe he just did that, just falling was bad on its own but this, mortifying, by now he had for sure blown any shot he might have had. Maybe he should just leave now before embarrassing himself further he thought and slowly started to back away. Suddenly he felt a soft hand around his wrist. “Hey wait, come with me.” Virgil said gently but still firmly, it wasn’t a question. He had turned around to pick his board up and when he turned back Roman already started to back away from him, visibly in pain. He didn’t like to admit he was worried about him but it just wasn’t something he could allow, he couldn’t just let him leave like that when he knew he could help. He gave him a gentle smile “I think you need to sit down for a bit”, his hand still firmly locked around the other's wrist. Romans eyes slowly widened, but he followed him without protest. “Sure,” he murmured, too flustered to look directly at him. It wasn’t like he wanted to leave anyway, and as long as Virgil didn’t want him to, he'd be more than happy to stay. And they were basically holding hands, what could be better than that?

Virgil had a specific spot in mind. Most of the benches in the park were placed in the center, always used by the other skaters' bags and jackets and in the middle of the big crowd, not where they wanted to be right now. But a little hidden on the opposite side of the park there was a small concrete wall. Most used it for spray painting but it was also the perfect height for sitting, he had done so often while waiting for his friends. Virgil stopped, gently letting go of the other. “Here, have a seat.” He gestured vaguely towards the wall. Roman plopped down with a big sigh. “I guess you were right,” he chuckled, not able to keep his eyes off the skater’s nervous expression. He truly has no business being that cute.

For a moment Virgil just zoned out, staring blankly at nothing, mindlessly spinning a wheel on his skateboard. He shook his head a little, trying to snap out of it before putting the board down next to Roman’s feet. The guy really wasn’t in great shape at this point, apart from his hands the knees and forearms were covered in bleeding scrapes. He knew from experience it probably looked way worse than it was, but that didn’t mean it was good. And it certainly didn’t mean it wasn’t painful. Virgil sighed as he sat down on the ground right in front of him, getting not one but two packs of bandaids out of one pocket and a bandage from the other one. It felt a bit embarrassing to admit he was always carrying those around, but he had needed them enough times that it started to feel justified. Roman tilted his head in confusion as he realized that he was sitting down on the ground instead of next to him on the wall, eyes widened seeing Virgil get a bunch of bandaids out. “You really don’t have to-“ he began but was swiftly interrupted by the other looking up at him. “No, I do.” He said and gave him a gentle smile before continuing, “I have the time and the stuff and you clearly need it so why wouldn’t I?” He pointed out while opening the first pack of bandaids. “Unless you need to go soon of course-“ he quickly added, the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Roman aggressively shook his head at that, “No no no, I don’t, I can stay all night if I wanna.” He let out a little laugh, “I just didn’t expect you to want to do that- there’s gotta be more fun things you could do.” Virgil shrugged, “nah not really- besides this is kinda calming..” He felt his face heating up but he didn’t quite understand why, it was true, nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Well if you say so” Roman chuckled. He didn’t like admitting that he needed help but he probably did, and the fact that Virgil wanted to take care of him made his heart flutter a little. Gently Virgil started to place some bandaids, trying to be light on the hand to avoid any unnecessary pain. “How come you just have all this with you?” Roman asked, genuinely curious, he had never met anyone who carried anything more than a couple stray bandaids for emergencies. Virgil tensed up a bit at the question “I just like being prepared, you never know when you’ll need them” he replied, trying hard to avoid looking at the other. And he seemed to accept that answer, they sat there in silence for a while, Virgil slowly working his way up from knees to arms. Using up every last band aid. He couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the sight of him, not unlike a toddler who just fell off a bike for the first time. Hurting himself that much was almost skillful.

“So, which hand?” Virgil asked, bluntly but not harsh, finally looking up towards him again. Roman chuckled nervously, “I don’t know what you’re talking-“ he was interrupted by a stern stare, accompanied by a hand reaching out towards him, telling him to just quit his bullshit. He sighed, “alright,” giving him his right hand, for some reason he was more embarrassed about this than the scrapes covering most of his legs. And the thought of him gently holding his hand made him blush furiously. “You can move it right?” Virgil carefully took his hand “Mhm.” Roman nodded, it did hurt but it absolutely wasn’t that bad. “Good.” He smiled a little and gently started to put the bandage on, for some reason holding his hand like this made him feel weird. For a moment he stayed quiet before he let out a sigh “I feel like I should probably tell you this..“ Stopping for a moment, eyes fixed on the ground beside him. “You do know I can’t actually skate very well, right? Better than you, but like I’m still very much a beginner.” He laughed a little to himself, glancing up at the other. Roman stared up at him with wide eyes, the thought hadn’t ever crossed his mind. But thinking about it, he hadn’t actually ever seen Virgil on his board, he was always carrying it around or sitting on it, but never actually using it.

Virgil swallowed hard, he couldn’t read that expression at all, maybe he should’ve just stayed silent. Not that he cared about what this guy thought of him, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of him. “Well that explains the band aids then.” Roman laughed softly and gave him a gentle smile, the skater couldn’t help but also laugh a little at that. “It’s true, I do usually need them myself.. but never quite that many.” He chuckled, a weight lifted from his chest. Roman laughed with him and briefly Virgil stopped and turned to look at him, immediately regretting it. His laugh was the most breathtakingly beautiful thing, and the sun perfectly hit his golden brown hair and soft cheekbones to make him look absolutely radiant. And his eyes, oh god his eyes, a soft honey color gently sparkling in the sun, he’d never seen anything like it. Quickly he looked away again, face flushed Finally he had realized what was going on. Putting the rest of the bandage on wasn’t easy, suddenly he was hyper aware of everything he did, and holding the other’s hand in his made him almost nauseous from the rush of feelings. He absolutely did care what this boy thought of him.

Thankfully for him, Roman had gotten started talking and was barely stopping for him to respond. So he could comfortably just sit and admire him for a while as the golden light danced across his face, his soft hand gently resting in Virgil’s, trying to come to terms with his new feelings. He knew he was a little out of touch with his emotions, but missing this massive crush was strange even for him. He really thought the nerd was just getting on his nerves. Maybe it was for the best though, if he had felt like this he never would’ve approached him, ever. Now he at least got a chance.

#I love them so much shxjckvk #finally I get to write virgil being down bad too #I love writing pining so much it’s a problem shdjck #prinxiety #sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #fic #my writing #skateboards and jam #virgil x roman #ts virgil #ts roman #ts prinxiety #prinxiety fanfiction #prinxiety fic #prinxiety fluff #sanders sides au

[steph-writes-sometimes]

“Microfiction” Writing Practice #3

Disclaimer: I know that Microfiction is typically between 50 and 300 words, but the idea I had for this prompt needed more than that. It clocks in at 649 words. I have come to realize that Microfiction doesn’t necessarily need to be it’s own standalone story, rather it could just be a snippet of a larger work. Maybe someday I’ll come back and continue where this leaves off, or write about what happens before. Also, please excuse my poor attempt at recreating an iMessage conversation in Google docs. I couldn’t figure out the fake text generator.

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Action: cheering

Word: minumum

Not Delivered

I knew my shitty cell service would come back to bite me eventually, and Michelle always hated that I texted as if I were speaking. I had no idea how bad the comically inept situation actually was until I opened my messages four hours later to a Leo Tolstoy novel. Michelle also texted as she spoke, tumbling forward on and on without stopping for a single breath.

Her essay culminated to a singular point where she told me that if that’s how I really felt, I could expect to find all of my belongings in the dirt in front of our apartment building. Well, I guess her apartment building. With Michelle’s flair for the dramatic, it wasn’t my apartment for the night at least. Despite the complete misunderstanding of the text, and its ridiculous comical nature, she wouldn’t forgive me without a grand gesture. By this point it might need to be proposing to her at Disneyland.

As I suspected, my clothes were strewn about the lawn of the apartment complex. In what was surely a cinematic moment for her she’d thrown them from the balcony. I noticed none of my important belongings were out there, only clothes that could be picked up, washed, and put away again. She knew what she was doing. It was another game for her, part of her dramatic flair. I could play that too. And I would. I picked my clothes up and packed them into my car. I’d spend the night at my mom’s.

I texted her back, made a big show of asking her to forgive me. It’s all a big misunderstanding, which it was, but she didn’t have to know I wasn’t being genuine. I even put it all in one paragraph. I signed it with a pink heart and “M+J forever.” Who really knew how long forever was anyway? Certainly not Michelle or Julie.

Her reply text read as nonchalant, like she was trying to seem reluctant to accept my apology and invitation to dinner, but not so reluctant as to put me off. I was supposed to feel that it was a privilege to take her out to this apology dinner. Really, I’d been meaning to go to this fancy restaurant and I thought my petty plans would add to my enjoyment. A steak at this place was $40, minimum. Just the steak. Everything else was a la carte. It’d be worth it.

She really dolled herself up for this one. She always looked great, but she put extra effort into letting me know that she was hot shit and I should be honored that she even came out tonight. This attitude, she always called it confidence, now only came across as arrogance. That’s what it had been the whole time, but my eyes had been opened.

In my head, everyone in the restaurant cheered after hearing my monologue calling her out on her bad behavior and officially ending it, but I think that kind of thing only happens in movies. The look of absolute shock on her face when she realized she wasn’t the only one who could pull off a dramatic display was just as fulfilling though. When she stormed out of the restaurant, it wasn’t even as fierce as I’d expected. I think she was truly blown away by the fact that she was the one getting dumped. Maybe she’ll find someone who’ll put up with her eccentric arrogance and finger-pointing iMessage novels. It certainly wouldn’t be me anymore.

Oh, and my steak was fantastic.

#fiction #microfiction #randomly generated prompts #short story #writers on tumblr #writing #flash fiction

[burstingsunrise]

2022 Writing Evaluation

thanks for the tag bella @clumsyclifford​! thinking about writing and stats is weird for me in a lot of ways right now but I thought this might be a nice way to try to reflect on it in a constructive way.

1. number of stories posted on ao3: 21

2. word count posted for this year: 341,517

3. fandoms i wrote for: 5sos

4. pairings: cake, muke (I know what I like)

5. story with the most kudos/bookmarks/comments: 

Kudos - for real

Comments - this city screams your name (which makes sense because chapters) but then there’s a massive drop to a ton of fics that all have about the same amount.

Bookmarks - new shapes and for real are tied

6. work i’m most proud of (and why): 

hmm. I think probably for real? It’s the longest fic I’ve ever written and one of the few this year that generally came fairly easily for me overall. i really thrive in a world where I can just describe Luke in a way that feels very true to actual Luke but also am scared of canon friends to lovers, so famous aus are a sweet spot.

And I guess maybe interlude too, because I hadn’t really done a “big” muke fic in a long time, and it was challenging, but in an overall rewarding way.

7. work i’m least proud of (and why): 

I guess I don’t often feel good about a fic before I post it these days, but there’s not necessarily one that stands out here as something I’m least proud of. 

I’ve posted a few fics this year that have just been lingering wips I managed to wrap up, and they tend to feel the most incomplete to me, like lowercases and capitals and keep these dreams. I feel like you can tell that I originally wanted more for them and just didn’t have the inspiration to make it happen.

8. share or describe a favorite review you received:

Meg read my muke! And made a meme!

9. a time when writing was really, really hard:

It’s been hard all year. Especially the second half of it, there were multiple times I wasn’t sure I’d ever finish another fic. And I’m still kind of in that space of…I’ll keep trying to write, but I can’t guarantee anything will get done. 

I think some of that is just because after writing for the same fandom for a certain amount of time, it’s kind of hard not to just feel like you’re repeating yourself, which saps inspiration. There’s also so little engagement with fic these days that it’s hard to actually tell if your writing is any good, which makes motivation difficult for people like me who don’t write specifically for engagement but DO have a strong desire to Be Good.

That said, I’ve still managed to post a lot of content, so the way my brain is processing this isn’t necessarily in sync with reality, and that’s something I can try to be aware of and try to reframe when I get in my head about it.

Above paragraph brought to you by meg encouraging me to be positive and celebrate the work I’ve done this year.

10. a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: 

Maybe comfortable silence Luke. He really turned into something a lot more nuanced than I expected. 

that fic in general became a lot different and more than i expected. it wound up being maybe the most “real” thing i’ve ever written and ever will write.

11. a favorite excerpt of your writing: 

Oh god. um. That would require me to remember what I write. I literally have no idea. There are some scenes that stand out, like the beginning of for real when calum and luke meet for the first time at the coffee shop, and the porch scene in new shapes.

12. how did you grow as a writer this year? 

I’m not sure that I did. And I don’t mean that in a bad way necessarily. I just feel like I fell into a groove in 2022 and have not really grown but am also quite comfortable in my groove.

13. how do you hope to grow next year? 

I think to grow as a writer I need to work on my perspective in terms of what counts as “success,” what are reasonable expectations to have for myself, and learning how to be better about dealing with the times I don’t feel inspired. Figuring out how to do that in a more constructive way mentally.

And, in answering the next question, I thought of another thing - I tend to assume people don’t want to hear about my writing unless they ask directly. So I stew in things a lot. I get stuck, I get frustrated, and I feel like no one cares, so I just don’t talk about it. But when I do manage to talk about it with the right people (see below), it’s always helpful. so maybe trying to get out of my own head more and be more proactively open about my writing.

14. who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc)?

Meg @kaleidoscopeminds​. It’s meg. In so many ways. Not just in terms of supporting and encouraging my writing and helping me through sticky spots, but also being my audience. Like even if no one else reads a fic, I know meg will, and that makes it worth posting.

Aria @calumthoodshands​ has also been a key influence here by being an idea machine, always prepared with suggestions. Not to mention the moodboard she made for comfortable silence before it was finished, which ended up inspiring several scenes in the fic.

15. anything from your real life show up in your writing this year? 

there’s at least one fic that’s very specific to personal experiences in many ways, but I think generally the way real life sneaks into my fics is through little details. Things that have happened to me, things that have happened to someone I know, or just things that I talked about with someone. Like in the spirit is the direct result of a “real” conversation with meg, even if nothing in it is remotely real.

16. any new wisdom you can share with other writers? 

I think last year I talked about writing something even if it means writing out of order or jumping between docs. And I still think that’s good advice for a lot of writers.

Beyond that though…this year has been all about learning to create in an environment where it doesn’t feel like the content is really being consumed. Finding ways to be okay with sending a fic out into the world and not really knowing how it’s received. Which is something I’m still working on.

17. any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year? 

This is going to sound more negative than it is - but not really, no! I have a couple WIPs that I might at some point get inspired to finish - including podcast cake! But I have no big ideas for new fics, and I don’t have anything I’m currently working on that I feel enough strong inspiration about that I’m confident I’ll finish. 

But you never know when something will hit, and there’s something nice about the sense of possibility there.

18. tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read: 

@ashtcnirwin @calumthoodshands @daydadahlias​ @crossedwiress​

#tag games #writing #i have a complicated relationship with stats and reflecting on my writing but #i wanted to try to do this and maybe set a positive tone going into 2023 #like yeah idk what i'm doing but maybe i can be okay with that u know!

[catholicfacade]

WIP Clark DeBussy Fic Preview

good evening, it's ego. i've decided to post some snippets of the clark fic i've been working on for like a month now! i'm a whore for praise and figured posting some of my personal favorite paragraphs i've written so far publicly might keep me motivated to write more often. i have not written or posted fan fiction in like 8 years and i often get quite discouraged when it comes to my own writing. i'm trying not to let that happen as much with this one since i've been really enjoying it, but i still have soooooo much to write!! so if you don't hear about this again for a while, don't think i gave up on it, i just have a lot i want to write about, and it takes me forever to do so </3

including the tags and warnings and plot points, everything you read below this line is completely subject to change before the final draft eventually gets posted >:) ——— ♰Synopsis: this fic follows the legion plot fairly closely but there is some divergence from cannon; completely gender-neutral reader is a mutant similar to David, where David's powers mostly deal w the conscious mind, readers deals w the subconscious mind, reader is mute irl but can talk in their dreams, has been through serious traumas in their life, Clark is secretly very lonely but acts tough 99% of the time, the relationship between reader and Clark can only be described as lovers to enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again. ♰Tags: porn with plot, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, rough sex, lots and lots of heavy petting, pet names (literally) ♰Warnings: NSFW, dubious consent, sexual violence, choking, low self-esteem/poor mental health, mentions of drug use/pill popping

———

((interrogation scene))

“Readings are normal Mr.DeBussy.” Announces the guard that was watching the graphs on the monitor next to you.

“It’s probably because we’d need to catch you sleeping, isn’t that right?” Clark stares you down with a little smirk on his face.

You shrug.

Don’t give him anything. You remind yourself.

Don’t let him try and break you down.

“Well…” Clark snaps his file closed, he lays it down along with his pen and claps his hands together in front of him.

“…you’re officially useless!” He smirks again. A couple of the guards behind you stifle a laugh.

Something boils inside of you. But you don’t let them see that. If only you would be kind enough to show them what their big, mean, tough boss dreams about! A house by the ocean, a sappy long lost lover, a puppy like need for affection. Oh how he melted in your hands like butter. Maybe then they’d know who to laugh at.

“Go ahead and take them away, bring in the next one.” Clark says, and the two guards behind you move to your chair, they rip the scanners from your temples and haul you up by your arms. You never once break eye contact with Clark. He knows he’s a fucking liar and you wished that he would just show you something, some sign, that he was sorry or that he had to act big and tough for show. But Clark gave you nothing. His eyes were as fiery and steadfast as yours were.

You decided you hated him. You shouldn’t have even felt anything for him after just a couple of dreams anyway. He was just like the others. He didn’t love you, he just loved your power (ironically enough). That’s it. Clark DeBussy. He’s just like the rest of them.

———

((dream sequence part 1))

Just as you were about to turn around and walk to Clark’s side of the room, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you. One snaked around your waist, the other around your neck, both held you In place with an iron grip, leaving you completely unable to turn or look behind you. His front was pressed flush against your back, his breath already hitting your ear and sending a chill down your spine. You gasped softly, hands reaching up to grab the arm at your throat.

“Promise me you won’t turn around.” Clark whispered close to your right ear.

You chewed your bottom lip, and after a minute of contemplating, you nodded, the idea that you can actually talk in dreams slipping your mind temporarily.

The arm around your neck was now moved to match the other one on your waist, bringing your hips back with a bump against his groin. You gasped again when you could feel his throbbing erection through his pants, pressed into your ass. Your hands reached down and laid flat against the top of the dresser steadying yourself, the cool surface just underneath your palms. God you wanted to look back right now, but you kept your promise and looked forward.

You could barely even process the fact that Clark was here, which meant he was alive out there in the world somewhere, before his hands were on you, touching and groping you everywhere. His fingers slipped under your shirt and pressed a heavy line tracing up your spine, you arched your back into his touch. His other hand grabbing the tender flesh of your ass hungrily. You couldn’t stifle the ‘mmmpf’ that escaped your lips sounding like half a whimper, half a moan. Your eyes fluttered shut as you dropped your head.

“C-Clark…please….” you manage to whisper.

You wanted to beg for so many things at once that you couldn’t get any of your words out. You wanted to see him, you wanted to know he was okay, you wanted to scream at him for the way he treated you, you wanted to ask him why he came back, you wanted to ask ‘why me’?

“Careful…” Clark said is a dangerously low voice, his left hand snaking up your spine even further, tangling into the hair on the back of your neck and pulling it hard enough to lift your head back. You let out a groan and bit the inside of your cheek.

“…you keep begging for me like that sweetheart and I’ll have you on your knees in no time.” He pressed a kiss into the side of your neck, his lips felt different, rough and uncared for, the corner of them felt rubbery and raised in a strange way, like a blister. It made you furrow your brows together.

“I want to see you.” You said bluntly.

“You just promised me-“

“I want to see you Clark.” You’re more firm, even with his hand still tangled in your hair you’re trying to stand up to him. The hand quickly leaves your head, letting you gain control over your movement again and you let out a sigh.

A small gap forms between your bodies now, he’s taken a step back. You can feel his eyes still on you, burning, never leaving you unwatched. And then more steps back, but there’s something else there, a distinct third tap of something wooden as he takes a step and another and another, until you hear the soft fabric on the bed shift and then settle under him.

“Walk backwards to me. I want you to sit in my lap.” Clark’s voice doesn’t give away anything, and you wished you could slip into his mind and just figure out for yourself what he’s thinking about. But you feel his unconscious body is somewhere too far away, and without direct eye contact, it’s difficult to find out what’s going on in there that he’s not letting on.

So you follow his instructions, taking a careful step back, another careful step back, and on the third one you bump into him, he guides you to sit between his long legs, and you can see his pants finally. They don’t look any different than the other suit pants he’s worn before, just a deep maroon color this time.

So you sit up straight in his lap with your hands on your knees, the heat of his crotch still haunts your backside and makes you gulp.

“Close your eyes.” He whispers, and you close them, as you do so, he places his head against your shoulder and his arms around your waist again. You can feel so much more of his face now, at least you think it’s his face. It’s that same rubbery feeling like before, the plane of his skin is uneven against your thin shirt, and he feels a bit feverish.

“Go ahead and picture a mirror in front of us.” He says softly.

So you do, you picture a mirror on the wall across from you, one big enough to see the both of you. When you open your eyes to it, you can only see yourself for the most part. Behind you pokes out that salt and pepper hair you so desperately love. That maroon suit continues upward to the sleeves of his jacket, a hint of a deeper purple shirt underneath the cuffs on each wrist. His hands are around you, one looks the same as the last time you saw it, while the other looks like it’s hurt somehow. You squint to get a better look at what’s going on with it.

Clark slowly reveals his face now, resting his chin on your shoulder, catching your gaze in the mirror. You stare back at him wide eyed, your jaw coming slightly unhinged as you try to soak him in.

———

((dream sequence part 2))

“Clark?” You sidle up closer to him, petting the blistered skin on his bad side with a feathered touch.

“Yes baby?” He hums sleepily, his eyes are still closed, his fingers lightly trace nonsense shapes onto the skin of your back.

“Are you…” You hesitate.

“…safe?”

The question immediately feel like it shouldn’t have been asked, it’s almost too intimate, even after what you two just did. You sink with regret as Clark’s fingers stop suddenly against your back.

“With you still in the world, no one is safe.”

He plants a kiss on your forehead before turning away from you. The room grows dimmer now, the last few minutes of sunset masking your view in a glow of total red. You can’t move, your body is completely frozen over like ice. You can see your vision go blurry, and a wetness falls down your cheek as you stare into the twisted knots of scabbed over flesh along Clark’s shoulder. In this lighting they seem to breathe when he breathes, like they’re their own entity, separate from the rest of his body. It horrifies and amazes you all at once. You bite your lip and try not to sob as you find the courage to turn away from him like he did to you.

After a few minutes of patient biting, you feel Clark fade from the dream, his consciousness returning to his body on earth. You sob and sob and sob into your pillow, until you can’t remember ever doing anything else but sobbing. And eventually you’re called back to your body too, the sound of an alarm growing increasingly louder as the dream fades to black.

———

((clarks big speech to you at summerland))

“Hey!” He repeats louder, angrier, across from you.

You keep walking, not even looking in his direction, it’s as if he’s not even there. You’re breathing through your nose heavily, and biting the inside of your cheek to distract you. If you don’t, you feel like you might start crying. There’s so much going through your head right now. You just want to be left alone for once.

Clark is the worst clingy boyfriend ever.

As you get ready to pass him and rear the corner of the brick building, Clark’s steps come closer to yours, catching up to you surprisingly fast with his cane. You’re only a couple steps behind the facade of the building, out of sight of anyone else, when Clark’s hand grabs your shoulder and pushes you back forcefully. You turn and stumble backwards, hitting the wall with a small thud. He cages you in immediately, grabbing the wrist on your right arm and pinning it against the wall, his cane presses into your thigh, blocking your escape on your left side. The roughness of the brick against your shirt makes you want to cry, but so do the fingers digging into your wrist. You bite your lip and glare at him enough to burn him.

Clark leans down over you, cool as a cucumber. He smells the same as you remember, like sandalwood and patchouli. His scars stand prominent on his half swollen face, and you think about scratching at them to get away. But you can’t. You start thinking of the many ways to fight back and escape right now, but deep down, you don’t actually want to.

You try to free your wrist from his grip but he clamps down harder, pushing it and scratching it against the brick behind you.

“I missed you.” He says very bluntly. There’s absolutely no sound of love in his voice, no smile on his face, no easing up on his grip. He looks at you the way he would look at anybody else. And that makes you want to cry.

You shake your head and reach up gently toward his face with your free hand, placing it over his bad eye, the one where you know for a fact everyone at Division-3 will be watching and hearing this conversation right now. That is the last thing you wanted, for some jerks in their suits to be getting off to Clark degrading you and spilling all of the secrets about your past relationship in front of them.

Clark laughs darkly and removes your hand from over his eye.

“Sweetheart, they’re not listening or watching. Did you really think I’d let them see this? See you? No, no, no.” He laughs again, and shakes his head just like you did.

“Baby, I make the rules here, if I don’t want them to listen in on me, I can tune them out. No questions asked.” He smirks and drops your hand by your side again. Clark lets go of your wrist on the other side as well, now that he’s let you know you’re all alone, he wants to show you a little trust. You just stand there, wide eyed and wrist throbbing.

“It’s a nice little privilege I’ve gotten for my sacrifices to the organization. If I’m out on personal business, they can get disconnected at the snap of a finger!” He snaps his fingers awfully close to your face, making you flinch. His smile fades quickly and he stares down at you for a second. You swear his eyes trace your lips for a second before coming back up to meet yours.

“Here’s the deal. I have burns on over 40% of my body and I spent six weeks with a tube jammed into the head of my dick. We were ambushed at the pool. Men died. And you want to know what the craziest part is?” Clark’s voice is low now.

“When I eventually woke up from that horrible, excruciating pain on my right side, I didn’t have anyone there to comfort me. I didn’t have anyone there to tell me they missed me or that they were glad I was alright or just to simply hold my hand as I sat in a hospital bed, suffering for over a month...”

You watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. His eyes were undeniably glossy now, as he stared deeply into your eyes. But he didn’t let his emotions betray him, not a single tear fell, not a single muscle in his face moved at that moment, he was unchanging and colder than ice.

“When I went home, there was no one there for me. I laid in bed alone for days on end. I could barely even walk myself around the house. I didn’t get any help or any support or any relief from anyone. I knew whenever I got to work again, I would be going to war.”

You immediately felt a heavy pang to your heart, but you were keeping up as much of a straight face as he was right now. Neither one of you letting on to what’s actually going on deep down. It took everything in your power (no pun intended) to not slip into him immediately and caress that trauma away, tell him you’re sorry, and fill him with relief.

You just hung your head down, starting to feel guilty and ashamed, letting your eyes stare into the small patch of concrete between your shoes. Clark pinches your chin and lifts your gaze back up to his.

“You know, for those six weeks I only ever dreamt once? I slept a lot because of the painkillers, but never once, after that first dream, did I ever see your face again.” He whispers to you, his face so close to yours, his breath hitting you everywhere.

“That’s funny isn’t it?”

Your eyes flutter shut, your breath hitches, and you’re not exactly sure what will happen next, but your heart starts beating rapidly, waiting for something.

———

((an early visit from clark in the middle of the night))

Your heart skips a beat when he takes another step toward you, his head hanging over yours now, eyes dangerously close to yours, lips dangerously close to yours. He’s looking at your lips you notice.

You don’t like being taken advantage of. Nobody does. You haven’t been able to get a word in with Clark for days now. He seems to enjoy catching you off guard lately, finding just the right (wrong) times to sneak up on you, where you can’t say anything, you can’t fight back. Times where nobody else is around and you’re exhausted from memory work, or times where you haven’t slept because you’re afraid he might come back to you in a dream. Times where you feel helpless and cornered.

You’re sick of it. He doesn’t get to take advantage of you anymore.

‘I can play your little game too Clark.’ You think to yourself.

You look him dead in the eyes, putting your new training to work, you slip into his mind. It’s heavy in there, feverish, he’s angry, and everything’s hot to the touch. But as you go farther in, careful not to touch the anger brimming on the surface, closer to the abyss of forgotten memories and unconscious practices, sits fear. He’s scared and doesn’t want to be alone.

You smile a little bit and let out a quick laugh. He should really know better by now not to let you just slip into his mind like that, but he just loves letting you in there doesn’t he?

‘Oh Clark, baby…what’s there to be afraid of?’

You inch closer to his face, a bright and evil smile spreads across your lips. Your voice reverberates loud in his brain, it catches him off guard, you see the fear pass just behind his eyes now, crashing together with the anger. Clark blinks, then gulps, and takes a step back. The entire dynamic is flipped on its head in an instant.

“Stop that.” There’s a shake in his voice, but he tries to sound as though he’s still in control. He stares at you, unwilling to back down. You can feel his fear and loneliness tangling together at the back of his mind. You want to pull on it like a rope, make it stretch and fray around the edges, until you pull so hard it splits apart again.

‘Do I scare you?’ You look at him through heavy lids, examining his face like you’re about to devour him. You circle his body, now his back is the one up against a wall, and you stand freely in the space of your room at the foot of your bed.

Clark doesn’t say anything. Your voice is so loud in his skull, bouncing throughout every corridor of his brain, slipping in and out of places he doesn’t want you to be, you’re stronger than the first time he saw you. Much stronger. And that’s what begins to scare him. He clenches his jaw and tightens his knuckles, which have now turned white from gripping the wolf on top of his cane.

‘You’re afraid to be without me huh, baby?

Am I your dirty little secret you hide from your coworkers?

Am I your little plaything that you can’t seem to get enough of?

Your sweet little pet?

If I fuck you good enough, will you tell me that you love me?’

You could say so much more to him, but the next thing you know, Clark’s on top of you, pinning you down to your bed. His cane has been discarded to the side and his hands reach down to choke you. At first you don’t even realize what’s happening, you’re still working your way out of his brain. His hands don’t really stop your breathing at first, he’s just pushing on you, until he makes a little grunting noise and adjusts his shoulders, that’s when you realize your breathing has stopped and you can’t get it to start again. Your heart starts beating even faster now. The twisted up face he’s making shows that he’s struggling to put all his effort into killing you. This is hard for him.

Clark’s hands clamp around your throat, squeezing down more and more and more. He uses his body weight to immobilize your hips, crushing you from the waist down. His crotch is flush with yours and you can feel the heat of him rubbing against you. You try to wiggle under him, maybe granting yourself some sort of freedom but it’s useless. Your eyes open wide when you try to swallow but you can’t, so you cough and choke on the spit that gets caught in your throat. Your continuous movement only gives him more room to press down. You grab his wrists and try to breathe in with little success.

His eyes are wild as he’s shaking above you. You don’t fight back as you watch him, if this is the way you die, so be it. You’ve had a long life full of nothing but pain and misery. There have been so many countless times you feel like you should’ve died that at this point, you welcome death with open arms. Part of you wanted to even thank Clark for putting you out of your misery. You wanted to tell him that you loved him because this was, in the most backwards way possible, the kindest thing anyone has ever done for you.

So you try, with whatever effort remains inside of you, to look into his eyes and reach the deep waters in Clark’s brain again. You try to tell him ‘I wouldn’t have wanted it to end any other way, please be a little kinder to the others while I’m gone.’ But you’re not sure if the whole message gets across, there’s black spots dancing in your vision now, your head feels like it’s about to explode, you just wished it would be over quicker.

Your eyes flutter shut and a tear rolls down the side of your face, into your hair. You lay your head back and take it all in. The swimming vision, the ache in your crotch, the heaviness of his hands against your body, the blood getting caught under the pinched nerves, your heart beat completely uneven in your jugular. Your back arches and you hear yourself gurgle a little bit and it sends a chill throughout your body. The grip you have on his wrists is slipping. You can feel your finger tips tingling like static on a TV.

You’re about to give in to the encroaching darkness when Clark’s hands suddenly ease up, and his lips come crashing down on yours. His tongue parts your lips and you gasp for air, only getting a single breath in before Clark’s covering your mouth with his again. You start to kiss him back. His hands on your throat haven’t left, but they aren’t pressing down on you anymore, his thumbs are gently stroking the area you’re sure will be bruised a deep purple tomorrow.

You reach your hands up to lightly grasp his shoulders, your arms are still weak and recovering. He shifts himself in between your legs now, the backs of your thighs pressing against Clark’s. His hands are trailing down from your throat to your chest and he runs his fingers over your nipples. It must be the adrenaline, or at least you hoped it was the adrenaline making your sex hormones go crazy. Because your nipples harden immediately under the fabric of your shirt. You were getting hot and sticky between your thighs and every part of you throbbed with anticipation for more.

You gasp again when Clark broke the kiss on your lips to kiss your cheek, kiss your chin, then dipping down to kiss that pretty little throat he just majorly fucked up.

Clark pulls away to look at you.

You’re both breathing heavy, his eyes still have that wild flare to them as he watches you to see if things are okay to continue, and in some weird fucked up way, they are. You let your hands travel to his face and pull him back in to kiss you. Clark hums and runs his hands down your torso, he starts to unbutton your pants, you desperately reach down to help him move along faster.

If he doesn’t fuck you right now and hard, you’ll surely be the one killing him next, or at least be the one waking up tomorrow and telling everyone Clark broke into your room last night and tried to kill you and then fuck you.

You both fumble for a second but pry your pants open at the same time, the zipper comes undone with one quick pull and a loud ‘zrrrt’ that flies through the air of the quiet room. You quickly move to undo Clark’s pants next. His cock feels rock hard when you accidentally graze it. It makes you pull away from the kiss to look at him, his face is full of lust and sweat as he looks down at you, his hands resting heavily against your tummy.

He looks like he wants to eat you from the inside out. You’re trying to figure out if it’s in a good way or a bad way.

‘Was this his plan all along?’ You think to yourself.

Clark pulls your shirt up over your head, tossing it to the floor, your chest bare to him now. You’d say you’re blushing from the realization that it’s the first time he’s seeing you naked in real life, but you’re pretty sure your face is still bright red thanks to him. He leans down again, taking the soft skin on your chest between his teeth, it makes your jaw go slack and you throw your head back against the mattress. He kisses you everywhere, biting and sucking and leaving marks on you, as if the two handprints that will be perfectly engraved on your throat tomorrow won’t be enough to say ‘Clark made me his last night’.

You make quick work of his belt and fly. As soon as they’re both undone, your hands go up to tug the hair on his scalp as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. Clark shows you absolutely no mercy by sucking on your sensitive bud, letting his tongue flick over it, left to right, up and down. His tongue feels so hot over your sensitive skin, licking away the taste of you until there’s nothing left.

And when he grazes your nipple with his teeth, you suck in a sharp breath, your back arching instinctively into his body. He traps you in this position by snaking an arm around the curve of your back, holding you in place against him. His other arm keeps him propped up over you, your nipple perfectly positioned in his mouth, being ruthlessly wetted by kisses and licks from him. And when Clark’s mouth switches sides, it leaves the skin of your chest red and abused. The bitter chill of the room hits your damp skin, already missing the tug of Clark’s mouth, and gives you goosebumps.

With your head thrown back on the mattress and your hands tangled in Clark’s hair, he gives the same treatment to your other bud. He sucks and bites and tortures your poor nipples until you feel like sobbing. The pain and pleasure combined starts to give you a head rush, your arms feel weak again and you can’t help but lay them above you.

He bites once more and you twitch in his arms, the precum between your legs begins to soak through your underwear. Your body begs for friction elsewhere, your need for Clark is endless. He moans when your hips tilt up, and the heat of your crotch grazes his aching cock.

He pulls away hastily, letting your back hit the bed under you again. It takes the breath out of you for a second as you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him swiftly rip his maroon jacket off, then his shirt, which he doesn’t bother to unbutton, just tugs it over his head and tosses it where neither of you can see. You can feel the nerves just under the skin of your chest firing rapidly with tingly little pops like fireworks.

Clark’s chest too looks like some sort of bright firecracker, the skin on his right side weaves and blooms with redness and paleness alike. Damn David for doing this to such a fucking gorgeous man, but it’s true what they say, people do really dig scars.

Your heart beats wildly.

You don’t have much time to admire him as his hands find the waistband of your pants, which he no less than rips off of your body, along with your underwear in one big swoop. They end up quickly forgotten on the floor, with the other scatterings of yours and his clothes.

He steps back and admires your gorgeous body, now naked, panting and slick with sweat on the bed in front of him.

“Wanna know something?” Clark’s voice is weirdly calm, so clam it sends chills down your spine.

You bite your lip and nod at him. He watches you, watching him, take his pants and underwear off slowly. His cock springs to life at its new found freedom, you try to keep eye contact with him, but when his cock is so pretty and pink and begging to be touched, your eyes can’t help but flick down in anticipation for it.

Clark comes back to resume his position between your legs, his eyes flash down to your sex, when his hips end up flush with yours again, he rests his cock on top of the soft flesh of your pelvis. You look at the size of him, and take a deep breath in. From this angle, you can’t wrap your head around how it’s all going to fit in. He cups your face gently and leans in over you.

“You are my pet, and I’m going to make you learn that tonight.”

Clark’s voice is so deep, it makes him rumble above you. He grips the back of your neck with his left hand, your eyes go wide for a split second, and pushes the index and middle fingers on his right hand into your wet mouth. You welcome him in gladly, almost embarrassed at how well you immediately coat him in your saliva, licking the salty taste of his skin off of his fingers.

You look deeply into his eyes and he smirks as he watches you, desperate for his touch anywhere inside of you, even if it was just your mouth. You’re definitely embarrassed now. But you just keep wetting him with your tongue, swirling around him in your mouth. Clark’s fingers go in deeper, you feel his knuckles brushing against your top lip and the tips of his fingers curling around the curve of your throat.

He watches your mouth work to wet him through heavy lids. Your own eyes are fluttering shut, but you try to keep them open to watch him back. You can feel your body wanting to gag against him, but you won’t let it happen, you’ll keep him deep in your mouth with absolutely no hesitation. He loves feeling the back of your throat, poking around where he’s not “supposed” to be.

Clark is very sure this is exactly where he’s supposed to be.

He looks so pleased with you. You might just die from his look alone.

“Good pet.” He hums and slips his fingers out of your mouth, you huff with a hot breath as you watch his fingers leave you, a web of sticky spit still connects your tongue with his fingers. You feel the tiny string snap against your lower lip and pool there as he pulls away.

He reaches down and wipes his two fingers slick with your spit, against the swollen head of his cock, making it shine in the low light of your room. He presses the tip of himself against your entrance. Your body is so hungry for him that you almost think to reach down and put all of him inside of you yourself! But you keep your hands pressed down against the bedsheets, your head hazy and swimming with lust for Clark.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Clark asks, keeping his voice low.

You secretly melted every time he called you that.

Sweetheart. Baby. Pet.

Clark loved calling you that to make your insides twist, he always knew that’s what he did to you. You weren’t sure which one you like being called more. The fact that he called you anything, made you squirm. His simple acknowledgement of you as a person always sent all the blood in your body rushing to your crotch. It made you feel like you were his. Wholly owned by Clark, never anyone else.

———

((comfort from clark after a bad memory work session with Dr.Bird & Ptonomy))

Clark runs a hand up and down your back as you let a few more tears fall from your eyes and onto his suit jacket. You’ll clean it up for him tomorrow.

“I held you there…in the closet. I tried to….talk to you, I guess.” Clark’s voice is soft but unsure. Now that it’s just the two of you he can finally process what just happened.

You lift your head and look up at him, both of your eyes are sad, yours are bloodshot and tear stained, his are worried and tired. You nod and press a finger to your temple and smile at him softly.

“You dreamt it? Good because I-“ He smiles and realizes he’s gotten ahead of himself.

“Because I love you.” Clark says firmly.

“I love you and I hoped you also dreamt of me coming to rescue you because I was beginning to think I made it up!” He chuckles nervously.

You nod again and tap your temple. You had dreamed the same dream. The one that started this whole thing. Although you didn’t realize it at the time, that was the first time Clark had ever appeared in your dreams. The light that surrounded him made him glow above you, you saw him as your guardian angel.

You place your hands firmly on either side of his face, anchoring his gaze to yours.

‘I love you’, you mouth at him and you guide his lips to yours.

You take Clark’s top lip in between your own, then his bottom one. Stubble on the left side of his face scratches your cheek gently, but you don’t mind it at all. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeper, parting your lips for him when his tongue begs for entry. He holds your waist flush against his body while you two kiss.

For a moment you don’t worry about who sees, the world right now is just you and Clark, soft lips and wet tongues.

You both pull away and share a quiet laugh.

“Let’s get you back to your room, shall we?” Clark smirks and turns toward the door of the memory cube, he’s grabbing your arm for guidance since his cane is gone.

It’s dark out now, you’re not sure exactly how long you all were in the memory cube for but you’re sure that everyone else has gone to bed by now.

You help Clark navigate the stairs outside and up to your room. You push the door open and walk in, but Clark remains outside. You turn to look at him, confused. He smirks a little and leans against the door frame.

“I’m technically not allowed to come in still.”

You roll your eyes and tug his arm inside, he doesn’t hesitate after that.

Once he’s inside, you shut your door and turn to join him in your bedroom. Clark groans as he sits on the edge of the bed. The side of the bed you’ve come to learn is ‘his’, you used to sleep directly in the middle out of habit, but dozens of late night Clark visits have taught you to leave some room for him.

You kick off your shoes quickly and quite literally flop down face first into your side of the bed, burying your face into your pillow.

“Hey, wait for me sweetheart! You know I need help with these damn shoes.”

You can hear Clark struggling to reach down and untie the shoe on his bad side, he just can’t seem to bend down far enough without it hurting him. You would pretend it annoyed you to help him sometimes, but you secretly loved doing little things for him like this.

You sigh and roll over to his side of the bed before coming to kneel on the floor in front on him. You untie his shoe, slip it off of his foot, and place it beside the other one underneath the bedside table. You can’t help but smile at the domestication of it all when Clark flicks on the TV to some soap opera you’ve never heard of.

You look up at Clark and start to unfasten the deep red buttons of his shirt. As you do so, you kiss him, once, then twice, letting the third one linger and become deeper. He lets a small moan release from his throat once you’ve finished unbuttoning him all the way, he feels your hands on the skin of his torso. But before your hands can travel further south, he stops you. His hands come to rest gently over yours against his chest. You pull away from the kiss to see him.

“Tonight we should just rest. You need it more than me. And don’t- don’t give me that look baby, when you know I’m right.”

You do know that he’s right but that doesn’t stop you from pouting. You kiss him a couple more times and help him take off his jacket. You put it on a hanger in your closet, letting a finger trace over the mostly dry tear stains that lay faintly on the shoulder. You turn back to see Clark almost completely naked, except for his underwear, he’s getting under the covers and smiles when he catches you staring.

You love his scars, even if he doesn’t. You wished to memorize the patterns of them one day, to be able to trace and retrace them, over and over and over again in your mind.

You slip into the bathroom quickly, just to brush your teeth before bed. The face in the mirror is almost unrecognizable to you, it’s you, and you know that, but sometimes when things get hard, you wish you didn’t recognize it in the end. So you face the other direction when brushing your teeth, leaning your back against the counter and go through the motions. It’s nice to play pretend like none of the memory work effects you, but it’s draining. Years have ticked away, pills have been swallowed, strangers have come and gone, all to make you forget. Yet the memories were still there, just laying under a murky surface of denial. And now, being in such a strange place with strange people telling you there’s no more time to forget. This is how the murk clears up.

What you can see now in those subconscious waters is years of bitter neglect. You waited to be loved for so long, by your parents, by your friends, by strange men and women in your bedroom at night. But none of them loved you.

Your mom never wanted you, that was clear. You ruined her life. And your dad had his own special way of showing you ‘love’.

Those few and far between friends found you cold, distant, preoccupied, and not at all easy to get along with. You were a burden to bring around, like hauling heavy luggage through a long airport.

As for those strangers knocking on your door at night, they would tell you they loved you, but really they just loved the way you could dance around their head and make them feel floaty, light as air. You mistook it for love a couple of times. If they came back as often as they did, it had to be love right? But love doesn’t come at the price of half a dozen sleeping pills a day, sometimes more.

You shake your head, the ache in your chest lingers as you spit out your toothpaste in the sink and rinse your mouth. You avoid the mirror at all costs and promptly exit the bathroom.

Clark is heavy lidded and staring at the TV, he wakes up a little at the sight of you and smiles. You smile back and climb over his legs to get to your side of the bed. You shimmy under the blanket and smile at the relief and comfort the warmth brings you. You feel Clark pull the covers up around you and him, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you in tight against his body. His face is buried in your neck, leaving a kiss here and there, his stubble tickles your skin as he finds the perfect place to rest his head. Clark lets his right hand find yours and interlocks his fingers with you, his thumb begins lazily rubbing patterns over your knuckles.

You’re trying to think about how this was the way Clark held little you in the memory. You didn’t get to see any of it of course, but it’s now all so familiar. Your guardian angel. He was warm like this in your first dream. He was safe like this too. You wanted to remind yourself to thank Clark for holding little you when you see him in dreamland.

He was already on thin ice around Summerland and going in and messing up Ptonomy’s delicate memory work would not grant him any brownie points with anybody. But it meant the world to you. You’d never been cared for like that, someone sacrifices what little trust they already have with the people around them just to protect this memory version of you? You? Maybe that…..that….was the price of love after all.

Before you even realize it, you’re drifting off, the theatrics of the soap opera across from you start to fade into static. The heat of Clark was everywhere, enveloping you, making you feel safe and secure and loved. Finally loved. Those deep waters in the back of your brain were muted now.

———————————————————

i appreciate everyone who took the time to read all of this, i’m open to any suggestions or discussions about this fic or writing in general! i pray that i will continue to enjoy writing it, and at some point, get to post it for you all to finally read! i have a few writing pieces for other hamish characters in my notes currently, but they are nowhere near as grand as this clark fic is right now.

♰Ego

#hamish linklater #clark debussy #wip fic #legionfx #my wiritng #previews

[khruinedimeanismylife]

So, thought I’d put this school tip on here because it has really helped me make it through long papers, and I figured it may help some of you.

When you get a prompt for a paper, or a series of questions to answer in a paper, don’t attack it like it’s a 5 page paper. Because when you attack it like the full paper then you start feeling overwhelmed and start to worry you won’t get all of your information in those pages. It seems too big, right?

Here’s my suggestion: attack it in parts.

Now, I don’t mean by using an outline. (Not bashing that way of working, it just doesn’t work for me.) What I mean is that you pick apart the prompt or questions and answer them individually. Then you string those parts together, refining the wording and structure to a paper format, adding a conclusion, introduction, and lead-ins for your paragraphs.

Example:

This semester, I’ve had to do a series of comparison papers for my Shakespeare class comparing his plays with adaptations. For each play we went over, there were one or two adaptations that we had to read, and then we had discussions in class about them. We usually got 5-6 questions to discuss in class, and those discussion questions became the prompt questions for the comparison papers. We could choose any number of questions to use for the papers. These papers had to be at least 5 pages long with direct quotes from the plays.

For my Hamlet paper, I was super concerned about not getting 5 pages when I can barely write 2 on a normal basis. So, instead of trying to answer the questions in the form of a paper (trying to think about the paper as a whole, where things needed to be placed, how I was going to lead things into another, all the stressful paper crap, etc.), I just separated each question and answered them as is. There were 6 questions to answer, so I took them one at a time and answered each question directly, as much as I was able to. That way I didn’t have to worry about writing it like a paragraph in a paper, I was just writing as much information as I could about it. And at that point I didn’t have to worry about a page or word count either. I had gotten 3/6 questions answered before I decided to type up what I had already. (I prefer to write by hand rather than type, I’ve just found it to work better for me for any long answer type of assignment) Without all of my quotes, I already had 3 1/2 pages done. I didn’t even need the other 3 prompts. Once I typed up the quotes, too, I had 5 pages no problem. And it was a lot less stressful than I thought it would be.

If you have an overall prompt for your paper, I would start by picking the topics that you want to talk about in the paper. Then go to town with each topic. Just write as much as you want on each topic. I had another prompt for a paper talking about entertainment in Covid. I wanted to talk about theatre, music, tv, film, loss of production, changes in production making, etc., so I answered as much as I could for each topic before stringing it together and editing to fit the paper.

Now, I understand that this won’t work for every paper, nor will it work for everyone. But, I thought it might help some of you!

(Also trying to write this on my phone was weird, so the formatting was weird for me. I apologize if it’s formatted weird on the post)

#school #finals #kill me #English papers #papers #advice #students helping students

[echoing-oursong]

I think it's laughable when people call Steve a "homewrecker" or blame him for getting between Jancy, when Jonathan in s2 slept with Nancy while thinking she was with Steve. There is no outrage here, people even to this day debate if it was cheating. Let me tell you if Steve would have fucked another girl 2 days after an argument with Nancy, the fandom would never let this go, he would forever be branded as a cheater who was so bad for Nancy. Like how was Steve in s4 worse than Jonathan? He never kissed Nancy, he told her he reflected on the relationship (debatable bc he soley blames himself for the breakup) and admitted he has grown now and he could be there for Nancy in a way he couldn't be a year ago. Plus if Nancy was so disgusted by it or content with her relationship with Jonathan, homegirl wouldn't have entertained Steve's flirting for this long.

It's crazy to me that we are not allowed to make up Steve headcanons because we literally only get crumbs, and people think we absolutely hate Jancy by exploring Steve's negative emotions about those two people. The notion that Steve is never allowed to be upset by other people's actions is insane. Like the fandom then always brings up s1 (where he in my opinion only made one big mistake) and essentially tells you well he was an ass, it's karma he shouldn't be sad at all it's basically his fault. Steve is allowed to have negative emotions towards people who hurt him, and Jancy did hurt him. Like be for real he is still hung up in s4 by the way how his relationship with Nancy ended, a person who is absolutely fine wouldn't act like the way he does. Steve is not a character who shows huge emotions, maybe because of the Duffers, maybe because there is limited time or maybe because that's just his character he doesn't want people to see him vulnerable. Like the narrative in ST towards him is so bleak we don't get much. So everytime I see the take how Nancy's trauma is not discussed or ignored I have to laugh because 3/4 seasons are about her feelings of losing Barb. Jonathan's trauma is ignored way more ever since he's made into extension of Nancy, however we still get more from the narrative about his emotions than about Steve. If the show had 20 episodes I think everything would be more balanced out, like we could properly explore everyone's trauma. But alas it's not that way.

also sorry this was hella long so i’m going to put it under read more after the first paragraph

yeah it really is laughable especially cuz it shows how people just don’t understand the meaning of being a homewrecker. i looked it up and it’s when someone gets blamed for breaking up a marriage or family like they don’t understand what it even means! legit jonathan and nancy bring up steve with murray moments before they do the act - they actively knew what they were doing was bad and didn’t give two fucks about it. they didn’t care about how it hurt steve! i hate how people still debate if it’s cheating cuz even if you don’t agree that them having sex was cheating - nancy legit admits that she has been emotionally cheating on steve for the whole relationship by stating to jonathan that she waited a month for him and then got together with steve cuz he was ‘easier’ - she knew who she wanted while getting with someone who she knew she didn’t love THATS EMOTIONAL CHEATING!! it’s absolutely wild how some people are willing to die on this hill that they didn’t cheat despite it being clear in canon that yes nancy very much cheated and so did jonathan! yeah like if steve did this, he would absolutely be getting the heat for everything. also i think it’s just the narrative that fuels everything like despite the narrative being clear that yes nancy did cheat and yes jonathan did cheat - they also clear that so fast and don’t actually dive into it at all. and then they dive into how steve was ‘an awful boyfriend’ by steve saying it himself because everyone he has his own self worth issues and worships nancy but people don’t want to engage with that it’s only from steve’s pov where he feels like this because of how he was cheated and his own self worth issues.

YES LIKE NANCY ENTERTAINED THE FLIRTING FROM STEVE!!! honestly stancy scenes this season were just steve reflecting on his own relationship in the stancy thing and what his dreams are before they head of an a mission that they all know they have a high chance of loosing THATS WHAT IT WAS! but people immediately see steve and nancy in scenes and don’t think about the actual deeper thing at the center.

god yes about this!! like we’re immediately getting hated for just making up steve headcanons where he’s feeling bad things and it’s just why?!? why can only one character have bad feelings about things?!? i have the energy to feel sad and sympathy over steve while also doing the same thing for nancy and jonathan. like i have the energy to understand all of their traumas! but i also have to make shit up for steve cuz the duffers do and awful job at actually showing how steve does have trauma. i hate when people bring up season 1 steve cuz honestly like in some way all of the characters were asses in season 1 but the thing is is that the narrative makes you sympathize with them while also not acknowledging the sympathy that someone would also feel bad for steve. it’s so obvious that in season 1 and continues that it’s jocks vs loners and the lover will always get the sympathy majority of the time, and unfortunately fandom heavily brings that into how they watch the show too. which is wild cuz they’re willing to call out the duffers double standards and etc but still hold up the duffers values

also sorry this is sooo long lol but yeah i think it is a combo of all of those things about steve’s emotions on screen. it is wild how people are like ‘nancy’s trauma isn’t explored’ cuz i genuinely feel like they covered it a lot and that it’s kind of getting boring to keep just talking about her trauma with barb! LIKE GIVE HER SOMETHING ELSE!!!!!!! also to me it is absolutely wild cuz she is one of the few characters in canon (other one is max) that actually even discusses about how she had someone die! joyce had someone die in front of her yet it’s barely discussed ever again. hopper had benny who was his friend die and then it’s never discussed again. the boys and el genuinely think that will is dead and they see his body pulled out of a lake yet canon doesn’t discuss that in the slightest. the boys think el is dead for a year and see her die yet canon barely discusses that. like i know those last two they didn’t actually die but they saw as it happen!!!!!!! canon honestly has gone so far in depth about nancy’s trauma compared to any of these other characters who has seen death and thinks that their best friend has died.

and yes everything you said in those last few sentences!!!

#answered asks #thanks so much for this #stranger things

[gayofthefae]

So what I’m hearing from Oliver Stark saying he keeps getting blocked from Natalia an episode after the universe was just brought up again (even if not totally credible or always accurately interpreted) is that love is NOT in the air for Buck, actually.

They introduced her mid B section of the season though so I’m trusting that she isn’t staying into season 7. Not only do I feel like they wouldn’t push him into another non endgame longterm relationship (it would feel too soon and therefore aimless) for the sake of a lesson but I feel like that isn’t the lesson he needs to learn anymore. Like the lesson with Taylor was what happens when you achieve the love you’ve always wanted and it isn’t enough because you realize that you were settling for whatever you could get instead of going after what you really wanted. The lesson now I think is basically just to remember that and put into practice the rejection of that dependency on how others view him. 

I got distracted but I was basically saying that mid season B is too short for significant enough build up to warrant a big finale moment or commitment because staying together over a hiatus is an implied 3-4 months of relationship and puts extra weight there passively. And it’s too long to just be a one-off. So it has to be a lesson he doesn’t learn immediately but that is important that he does in preparation for the next season. You gotta learn a lesson every season and if she’s a lesson it’d be weird for her to take as long as Taylor and it’d be weird for him to learn it to completion mid-season so...end of season. It’s less time even than the sperm donation has focused on. Also just the fact that it feels like it’s just here and there. Comforting myself again. I need to stop and calm down (I wrote this after the next paragraph so I didn’t just say that and then rant forever more). She isn’t a character in her own right. Abby and Taylor were. So she isn’t endgame, let alone even longterm because neither were Abby or Taylor. There. Done.

Also, she is a death doula who has had a heavy focus on Buck’s death - the 5B plot focus for him (5B. Obviously his coping won’t be DONE next season but it won’t be like the main thing anymore, right? The only reason it was with Eddie was because he had a full season after having that experience in a season finale not hiatus finale...right). Just making her that means her main purpose is NOT as a longterm partner. If she was going to be another lesson as a longterm girlfriend, that would make her being a death doula just a way for them to initially connect - which, I feel like there were other ways to do that without implying so much pertinence. She could have been really into general fun facts too or something but no, specifically death. If 5B is about Buck coping with death and that seems to be her function in combination with a romantic one but that primarily this will be done by the end of the season I’m sure. Because otherwise, the season would have to end with him making some big decision to be with her and committing to her like what happened with Taylor in season 4 - who had way more buildup AND context so that just doesn’t feel very matched. Also, the last scene of the season for him still involves the couch symbolism and she isn’t endgame so that just wouldn’t make sense.

I was gonna say something else but then I got caught up in comforting myself so now I forgot :)

#911fox #911 predictions #911 natalia #whoops #self comfort #buddie truther #but in a like insecure reminding myself in a spiral kinda way

[avenirdelight]

I posted 1,403 times in 2022

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505 posts reblogged (36%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 1,289 of my posts in 2022

Only 8% of my posts had no tags

#england nt - 141 posts

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Longest Tag: 133 characters

#after crying over tyrone twice yesterday i saw the whole liverpool squad and some england nt players in my dream but not tyrone? sure

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

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357 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

#4

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367 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

#3

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499 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

#2

jack doesn’t know where he’s originally from on the map😭😭 his face😭😭

740 notes - Posted May 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The Thing I Do Best

Anyone You Like

He’s upset and he asks why she never critiques him.

He lost another game.

She knew that he hadn’t been doing well lately. She didn’t know football that well, tactics and everything, but she definitely knew when the team was struggling or when mistakes and errors were made. And although he still did well in some parts, the mistakes he had made were the highlights—the team may not have lost some points if he hadn’t made those mistakes.

When he came in through the front door tonight, head hanging low and shoulders slouched, she knew that this loss knocked him pretty bad. He didn’t need to say it for her to know that he was upset, angry, disappointed with himself, more than with anything else.

He hadn’t said much. After she’d given him a long big hug which he detached himself from, he’d gone straight to their bedroom, leaving her alone in the kitchen. He’d only answered her with a short “yeah, thank you” when she offered to make him tea.

Even now, he was drinking his tea in silence, sitting on the other end of the sofa as he kept himself occupied with his phone. She’d tried to make little conversations but he’d only given her more short answers; she knew it was better to leave him alone. So she also sat in silence, reading her book and sitting on the other end of the sofa, briefly glancing at him once in a while just to check.

But a loud thump startled her a bit. When she raised her head, she realised that he had thrown his phone to the table. He picked up the TV remote and turned the TV on as he laid back on the sofa, letting out a long heavy sigh—her eyes followed all of his movements. The volume was quite loud when the TV turned on but he quickly lowered it.

He turned to her. He looked so tired and it wasn’t a pretty sight to see. “Sorry, is it okay?” He asked, pointing to the TV with the remote.

“Yeah, it’s fine, babe,” she nodded. He nodded too and immediately turned his attention back on the TV, while she got back on the last paragraph that she was reading.

They both fall silent again. He put on a movie on the TV and made himself comfortable by resting his feet on top of the table. She focused on her book and was getting deep on the story, not paying much attention to him, and read five more pages without any interruption.

“Why do you never give me any critics?”

She was about to flip a page when his voice stopped her.

When she looked up, their eyes met. Her heart clenched as she stared into those upset and tired eyes.

“What do you mean?” she asked back.

He sighed as he looked away. “When I play badly, you never give me any criticism. You never even tell me that I play horrible even though you know it.” He pressed some buttons on the remote, changing the channels. “You only tell me that it’s okay, that I can bounce back, I shouldn’t listen to what people are saying, say that you always believe in me…”

She furrowed her eyebrows. He sounded serious. He didn’t seem like he wanted to talk tonight, but maybe he’d changed his mind.

“Because it’s what I’m supposed to do,” she answered. “It’s my responsibility, isn’t it? To give you consolation, to take care of you.”

“Yeah, but you don’t always have to give me the white lies, saying it’s okay and all that.” His tone didn’t sound too pleasant to hear, so she picked her bookmark, put it in between the pages and closed her books—she knew that this talk was going to get serious.

“They’re not lies,” she started. “You’re the one who taught me that we should never stop believing. I believe that everything will get better, that you’ll get better.”

“Yeah, but– I know you’re mad when we lose, I know it upsets you. Why don’t you just say it? Say it to my face.” It almost sounded like a demand. He said it as he turned his head to her and gave her a sharp look. “Tell me I disappoint you.”

When she didn’t respond, he clenched his jaw before looking away again; she gritted her teeth. She let out a heavy sigh as she slightly shook her head. She couldn’t quite believe what he just said.

She knew he was angry and he wasn’t thinking straight. But if he really thought that every consolation she’d given him all this time was lies, she would actually be hurt. She meant everything she said—every “I believe in you” she’d ever told him was all true.

She just sat there and stared at him. She could see the frown on his face, the creases on his forehead, the frustration on his eyes. This man was being hard on himself, and she never thought that he would ask her to be hard on him too, but he did.

“You’re already your biggest critic, babe,” she said. “You’re the first person to know that you don’t do well, you’re the first one who critiques yourself for your performance.”

It was his turn to completely fall silent now. His eyes were on the TV, but she knew he wasn’t even watching it and that he was all ears now.

“There are people out there who try to be smart and think that they know you the best, saying every ridiculous thing about you, but no, they’re not the biggest critic, ‘cause they don’t know better than you do,” she continued. She was honestly getting upset, but she tried to keep her tone low and calm.

“And I, I don’t know better than you do. You’re the one who knows your football better than anyone else, better than me,” she shrugged. “I don’t see the good in me telling you that you did your worst or saying that- that you should’ve made that pass, you should've run faster. Because you’re already blaming yourself for it.”

“So if you ask me to be mad and upset at you because you didn’t do your best at kicking a ball, I’m sorry, I can’t,” she shook her head. “My role is to make sure that you’re alright, supporting you so you can improve and do what I know you’re capable of.”

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778 notes - Posted February 12, 2022

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#i’m happy that mr mings is up there #tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false

[187days]

Day Thirty-Two

I had a mild moment of panic when the bell rang this morning because six of my most talkative GOV students were inexplicably absent. 

Luckily, they all showed up about three minutes later (they’re team captains, and they’d been in a meeting with The Athletic Director). True to form, they’re the ones who asked and/or answered the most questions as I lectured about the legislative branch. And, after that was done, they led the charge around my room to figure out how a bill becomes a law (or not). 

Yes, I mean that literally. 

I gave an assignment detailing all the steps of the legislative process, and put the answers on papers taped all around my classroom, so students actually had to get up, walk around, and find the information. It’s something a bit different, and it always turns into a race, so it’s fun. I’ll go over all the answers to start tomorrow’s class.

My World students had to do current events write-ups today: choose a news story, research it on multiple sources, then write a summary and reflection about it in paragraph form. I originally wanted them to finish their write-ups by tomorrow, but a few things changed my mind. First, they got a bit panicky at the word “paragraph,” so I did a quick outline exercise with them (they’d read an example, so I had them reread it and tell me what kind of information could be found where). Then, I discovered that quite a few of them didn’t know how to do simple formatting things like double spacing or changing the font, so we did that all together. Then I set them loose to research and write, but Google News wouldn’t load because they’re not 18 (this is a thing now apparently? I don’t know). I figured out that they could type a topic int he regular search bar, hit news, and get results, so I had them do that. But all that slowed everyone down and ate up time, so I pushed the due date to Monday. Not a big deal. They’ll keep working on their write-ups tomorrow.

This assignment led to some really interesting conversations throughout the morning. The first was with a student who’s been a bit challenging, at times. He’s accused me of being out to get him when I’ve tried to address his disruptive behavior, but I’ve done my best to show that’s not the case (I don’t yell, I’m courteous, I try to engage him in positive conversations), and maybe it’s worked? Because today he didn’t act out at all, and even called me over to discuss some of the different things going on in the world. He asked me questions, he shared his thoughts, it was all super positive. 

The second interesting conversation occurred when a student asked me if it was alright that the reflection portion of his write-up was opinionated and political. He’s writing about the Parkland shooter’s sentencing, and he’s got very strong feelings about it, and I told him that, of course, that was fine. I’m asking for their opinions, I want them to express them with detail. I gathered that he was worried that others- especially me- might not agree with whatever he thinks, so I assured him that was perfectly fine. As long as we’re respectful, he and his classmates can disagree, he and I can disagree. I reminded him, too, that there’s nothing on my grading rubric about what someone thinks, but about how they express it. He looked relieved, and said, “Yeah, that’s fair. Like, you can take points off if I spell something wrong.” I said, “Exactly.”

That same event- the shooter’s sentencing- sparked a discussion between multiple students in my Block 3 class about the death penalty. One of them asked me to chime in, so I did. Longtime readers know that if students directly ask me for my opinion, I’ll give it (because I ought to model how to articulate an evidence-based view since that’s what I’m asking them to do). Plus, it goes back to what I said earlier: it’s okay if we don’t all agree, we don’t need to hold it against each other or act in retaliatory ways towards each other. 

There aren’t always enough adults in the world telling them that, so, at least, I should be one who does.

#teaching #teachblr #teacher #edublr #education #high school #social studies #educhums #conversations about current events #technological mishaps #the athletic director #day thirty two

[what-dat-ritalin-do]

#3

Tuesday, 21st Nov 2023

12:58 PM

A bit of a late start again today. I woke up early and managed to go out for breakfast with my family. At around 8:30 AM my breakfast was as follows: 

Hor Fun noodle soup with shredded chicken

A glass of iced Ipoh White Coffee 

Ondeh-ondeh 

I sort of goofed off for a bit before finally showering and getting dressed for the day. I took my medication about 10 minutes ago so it should have started to take effect by the time I’m writing this entry. 

It has been about 12 days since I last took medication. Partially because of the holiday period, and also because of some other reasons. I think I was a bit hesitant to take it after the last two times because of the jarring reactions. For one thing, the experiences themselves were jarring enough– one moment I’m in complete control of my body (noticeably more than I usually am), and the next I lose all control of it to the point where I can’t even lift my body out of its stationary position. Then there’s comparing the experiences together. In attempt #1 I was fluctuating between flurry and clear states, in attempt #2 I blacked out entirely before being awarded one hour of uninterrupted lucidity. 

I kept on trying to accommodate these reactions and it became a big obstacle. It became a big 4-hour block I was trying to fit into my already erratic schedule. I couldn’t even fit 1-2 hour errands (accounting for the amount of time it takes for me to get dressed, travel, and actually run the errands) into my day. Trying to fit in a whole 4-hour block of potentially feeling possessed was just impossible. 

I managed to recollect myself and readjust my perspective: I’m going to see how the medication reacts with my therapy sessions. I had originally planned not to take medication on the days of my sessions, especially after attempt #1 because I was afraid I’d have such a bad reaction, I’d miss them. But this time around, I wondered if I would behave differently if I was medicated. This is how I “convinced myself” to take the medication. 

The last hour of the 4-hour active block seems to be the most stable so I’m going to try (*) to see if it’ll affect my sessions.

4:19 PM 

I’m done with therapy and I’m currently writing from the building’s parking lot so my girlfriend can pick me up (is it relevant to mention I’m gay?). She might come at any moment so my writing may suddenly cut off. 

The effects should be steadily wearing off soon and I’m feeling jittery and dizzy. Perhaps because I talked a lot during my session. I remember speaking at a slightly faster pace today, but I think I tripped over my words a lot too because it felt like my thoughts were moving faster than my mouth was. I haven’t eaten since 8:30AM so maybe I need to eat something. I’ll be running errands with my girlfriend for a bit so I’ll grab something to eat then. 

While I was writing the last paragraph from my first check in of today, I experienced a sudden numbness in my wrist and palm. This occurred at the (*) symbol. This was preceded by an abrupt heaviness in my head. I almost face-planted onto my desk and my body felt limp. It didn’t last very long, maybe less than 5 minutes. When I came to, I felt a stiffness in my hand. I had planned to write more, but I found it hard to hold a pencil. It wasn’t, however, difficult for me to type. I was in the mood to communicate something and I was able to type, so I decided to do something I’ve been meaning to do for a couple of weeks now: Open up a blog and type out all these journal entries so it’s easier for anyone who’s interested to keep up.

My girlfriend is here so I’ll be continuing this entry after being able to walk around and have something to eat. 

6:52 PM

I’m back and my head is still slightly dizzy, but I’m feeling a lot better. I had a small chicken wrap and some iced tea after doing some shopping around a local mall. I got a minimal amount of physical activity and some carbs from the sugar in the sweet tea and the wrap so I have some energy to continue typing this entry. 

Yes, typing. I didn’t have too much trouble writing the previous check-in in my journal, but now that I’m home, for some reason my wrist feels very heavy so this final check-in of the day will be typed. I’m not sure why this is happening. After mentioning it during my session, S suggested it might be because my dosage is too high. I had the same hunch, but we both agreed I shouldn’t change anything until I get to see Dr. J again on the 29th.

I feel the effects, wearing off. My mind is slowing down. 

I remember my thoughts moving very fast when I was in today’s session. I had mentioned in previous sessions (before we even concluded a diagnosis) that my brain felt like a busy central station. I had many “trains of thought” going off at the same time and it was difficult to address them all at the same time. I’d get so overwhelmed that I couldn’t fit all of these differing (sometimes conflicting) “conversations” into my head, I’d get overwhelmed and reach an impasse where I just get catatonic. 

But on medication– particularly in my most lucid hour– it was like being on one singular train track, steadily chugging along at a fast pace. I wasn’t a terminal where many thoughts converged and I had to divide my attention to satisfy all of them. I was just “riding” one state of mind where I was not only dynamic (as opposed to stationary), I was moving in one stable direction. 

The next challenge is being able to point myself in the “right” direction. I have the energy and motivation to move. I want to move and do something, but I can’t seem to do what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to be doing research for my final year thesis (something I’ve been struggling to do for three years and is largely the focus of even why I was looking for a diagnosis), but I just don’t want to. 

I don’t want to do it.

That sentence was so hard for me to say because of how much weight it carried. Money for one thing. It’s not cheap to re-do a thesis, let alone three times. There’s a lot of guilt in it. A lot of baggage. But it was so easy to say it out loud in the therapy room today when I was medicated. 

The weight wasn’t there when I said it. I could just say it out loud– multiple times even. I didn’t feel like I had to “earn” the right to say it. My thinking behind that decision was simple:

I don’t want to do my thesis -> I want to know why -> I’ll tell my therapist about it -> We’ll confront it together and get to the bottom of it.

It seems so logical doesn’t it? It seems so straightforward? So why did it take me three years to be able to do this?

Being on medication is really amazing in a terrible sort of way. 

I had discussed in a previous session with S that I was afraid of feeling like my life was “stolen” from me because I didn’t find out I had ADHD sooner. That if I had gotten medication–or any kind of treatment at all– I might have been more successful. I might have graduated “on time” with good results. I might have had multiple certifications. There was an endless sea of wasted potential and broken possibilities because I couldn’t sit down and focus on one thing at a time. 

Perhaps I’ll go into that in another entry. This one is long enough already. The conclusion we came to in that session is that we can’t change the past, but we can change the future. Now, I have a diagnosis (that I worked very hard to get), medication, and a structured treatment plan. 

In fact we discussed part of the plan today! I’m writing down my “therapy homework” for today so I can have some accountability: 

With CBT, we want to tackle that “I don’t want to do my thesis” thought by challenging the rationales that make it up. For example, currently my brain is like this:

Thought: I don’t want to do my thesis because I will not be able to complete reading and understanding one article in one hour” 

Behaviour: I avoid doing any reading. 

Feelings: I feel guilty I didn’t do any work even though I had time to do it. It makes me lose confidence and feel like I’m incompetent.

In order to change the rationale behind this thought, I have to challenge it.  I’m not terrible at research and I know I genuinely like and enjoy psychology. That’s the whole reason this blog exists! 

So I guess S decided to leverage on that and turn my homework into a little “data collection” activity. I’ll become my own experiment:

Aim: To systematically challenge thoughts that precede maladaptive behaviors

Statement to Disprove (Thought): I am unable to read and understand an article in one hour.

Method: Choose a day, take Ritalin, and read a “doable” article 

Record Findings: - Record thoughts and feelings (perhaps via a mood tracker) throughout the activity. - Be aware I may not get it right the first time. It’s not about “getting it right”, it’s about doing the activity. 

That should be enough for this very loooong entry. I’ll hopefully update tomorrow!

#med mode

[marvelslegacies]

Jarome | Fate and Felicity | Past Paragraph

And in other news, the local Walmart’s latest- Patrick, your genius is showing.. -All for nineteen ninety-nine!

“Wait, go back!” An 8-year-old Jarome whined, watching the television flicker off and be recolored with a new scene. He wanted to watch Spongebob, but Degrassi was on and that was Felicity’s favorite show. “Felicity! Go baaaack!” Jarome cried as pitifully as he could, hoping Mom or Dad would intervene and tell Felicity to change the channel back to Nickelodeon. “No, Jarome.” she hissed powerfully, still flipping channels, “The new season of Degrassi starts tonight and I am not missing it!”

Jarome crossed both his arms harshly across his chest, sunk into the couch and scowled until his cheeks ached. “I hate you.” he muttered through clenched teeth, a common utterance at this age, one that had become only more popular with the news that the Blakely family would have a new addition in 3 short months. Mom was pregnant. Jarome couldn’t imagine how much everyone would ignore him once their new baby brother or sister was born… he already came in second on everything with one sibling as it was.

“Mooom!” Felicity called out, her thumb still jamming over the button on the remote, “Jarome’s saying mean things to me again!” His face instantly changed at the fear of being scolded by his mother, but it soon turned back to bitterness when he hollered, “Felicity’s hogging the TV and being unfair!” To this Felicity responded, “I am not!” Mom, of course, sided with Felicity and told Jarome that once Degrassi was over Jarome could have the TV for the rest of the night. Jarome got up and sulked up to his bedroom to wait out the hour-long event.

In the kitchen, Jarome’s mother hummed an old song by Journey as she fried pancake batter in a buttered pan on the stove. She had just flipped a pancake over to reveal a fluffy, golden brown underbelly when the fire alarm chirped its shrill warning from out in the hallway. Mrs. Blakely sighed.

The noise could be heard from upstairs, but Jarome wasn’t worried by it. He was too irked at his dumb big sister to get himself worked up over the shrill chirping. He had enough life experience to understand that the fire alarm would go off rarely and of those rare occasions, there was almost never a fire. Folding his pillow over his head so it wrapped around like a taco shell, he held an opened palm over one side to keep the pillow in place. “Stupid sisters, stupid parents, stupid TV…” he grumbled absent-mindedly.

Placing a cool, wet cloth over the fire alarm in the hallway caused the chirping to cease. Mrs. Blakely smiled to herself and rubbed her budding belly gently. Holding the lower of her back, she eased herself down from a chair she’d borrowed from her own dining room and began to drag the antique piece back to its set in a room at the end of the hall. A shriek split through the air followed by a whoosh, now grayed out with thick smoke. Felicity stared into the blinding light of wild flames licking away at the kitchen cabinets.

“Felicity!” Mrs. Blakely demanded in a panicked tone as she found her daughter, standing opposite her at the other end of the hallway. Felicity stood facing the open doorway to the kitchen, being swallowed by thick, graying smoke, with her arms covering her face to guard against the heat. “Felicity! Get away from there!” Her mother cried, desperately striding up the hall to shield her child from the explosion that she knew was inevitable. The poor pregnant woman was a few feet away when the explosion thrust the little girl back into the living room, and she collided with her pregnant mother, knocking them both to the ground.

Hearing a ruckus that Jarome could not fathom, he roused himself out of bed and gingerly made his way to the bedroom door, still angry. He didn’t want to go back down stairs in his sour mood but found himself worrying too much not to go down stairs. So he unlocked his bedroom door and stepped out onto the indoor balcony, underfoot was the living room now clouded with smoke and blaring painfully with heat.

“Mom?! Felicity?!” Jarome cried out, racing awkwardly across the balcony to the staircase which wound down into the living room. Jarome was nearly blinded once he reached the foot of the stairs and began choking from the smoke. “Felicity?” he croaked, seeing a hunched over figure by the couch. He willed his feet to move forward, into the breathless hell. He could hear a commercial playing to his left and swiped about with his hand until he found the television. Dragging his fingers to the corner of the box, he shut it off and asked again, tears in his stinging eyes, “Felicity?”

Huddled over the limp body, a weeping woman cradled and caressed the lifeless figure, praying to a God who’d put her on hold. “Wake up, baby, wake up!” Mrs. Blakely’s voice shook violently but she never stopped spilling out words of desperate encouragement. Jarome got closer, and closer, but could not find the courage to speak… he reached out a silenced hand, pleading for his mother to turn her attention to him instead of…

Run, little brother. Jarome’s breath flooded from his mouth instantly at the sound, he had been raised up into the air and was spun around by an unseen force, he searched for the voice. It had come from behind and was unmistakably Felicity’s. The voice began to speak again but was drowned out by a coughing fit, Jarome’s eyes sunk into sorrow as he spun back around, suddenly feeling the warm floor beneath his feet. He’d made himself dizzy in the process, his lungs were shriveling up inside his chest. He looked at his mother’s face, she laid down next to her daughter, their soot-covered faces an inch from the ground as the pair wheezed and convulsed. “Mommy.” he cried, sputtering. Every time he sucked in a breath to cry for his family’s pain he choked harder on the black smoke.

Run, little brother! commanded the voice of Felicity, despite her body still lying limp. Jarome cried something incoherent and rushed, stumbling and clumsy, to the back door where the fire had not yet spread. He rammed his own body into the back door before stopping to grip the doorknob and twist. His face was pressed up against the glass, dusted over in smoke somehow and he saw the blurry reflection of his sister but dared not look behind him. He spun the knob as hard as he could and forced himself out of the house.Smoke leaked out in his wake, another explosion sent his small body flying across the backyard when Jarome first learned to throw a football. Blood was dripping down his upper lip from his left nostril and copper filled the space between his teeth. He saw Felicity once more, but faded away and pale like a ghostly spirit. You’re safe now, little brother. She, it, whatever it was… smiled and dissipated. Jarome only didn’t cry because he could not do so without bringing upon himself another coughing fit. Sirens. Important men announcing important things. He stumbled in a daze for a while, shuffling the long way around to the front of the house until his own eyes met with that of another man, a firefighter, here to help… he collapsed.

#004

[ashley-slashley]

Alice in Modland

Summary: originally written in 2018. I found a prompt on Reddit (I don't remember who posted it) and accidentally wrote fanfiction

Rating: T/Teen

Warnings: language, some violence, long paragraphs

A/N: unfinished overall story. i transferred this from my ao3. enjoy!

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

    “I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new empire!” Mad Mod yelled from the other side of the street. “Your new empire?” I questioned, “Mad Mod, you fucking idiot, my allegiance is to the constitution! TO THE REPUBLIC!” I yelled back, echoing in the empty, pixelated street. The Pete Townshend wannabe claimed that I am his enemy, with his back facing me, “Obviously, dumbass, only a Brit deals in absolutes.” I coldly replied. Just like the Spanish Inquisition, a bayonet appeared beside me, “What the hell?” I thought while looking at the sci-fi version of a historic firearm. What kind of mastermind makes a bayonet with the powers of a phaser and a lightsaber? Knowing my only chance of being victorious over a universe-bending psychopath, I equipped myself with the futuristic take on a classic French firearm and set my phaser to kill.

    When I looked up from my bayonet, my foe disappeared, leaving me alone. “I have a bad feeling about this.” I whispered to myself while surveying my surroundings. “You will never find me, my duckie.” Mad Mod’s voice boomed seemingly out of nowhere, “and to make sure you don’t go spelunking around, I’ve set up barriers.” I looked around and saw that the clock face of Big Ben was a view screen with him looking directly at me. Am I going to be yelled to get up against a wall now?

    “What are you going to do? Feed me to a spider named Boris if I run from here?” I said over dramatically. Just then walls were built around me out of nowhere, “Hopefully another brick in the wall will shut you up.” Mad Mod said in a threatening tone. “I’ve heard better threats come from Winnie the Pooh, and he’s an anthropomorphic teddy bear!” I yelled back. “What’s some stupid kid gonna do to stop me?” the red headed bastard bantered back, in retaliation I remarked that I’m not gonna metaphorically and literally fuck the planet and civilization in the name of a monarch. He didn’t have any comebacks to top mine, so he shut off the view screen and left me alone within the white brick walls. Though I don't have a hammer, I could try to use my phaser. Setting it to kill and aiming it at the wall, I pulled the trigger hoping for the best. After about a minute, smoke formed around the beam and gave off an odor reeking of bleach, “Where’s the Geneva Protocol when you need it” I thought.

    Holding my breath and keeping my eyes tightly shut, I ran through the smoke until I felt my temples throbbing: I halted while hyperventilating and opened my eyes to see a sign labeled “HYDE PARK”. “Very clever, my love. You may have broken the wall, but you haven’t found the stairway to Heaven and you never will!” Mad Mod exclaimed while standing a few feet across from me, aiming a golden gun at my head. “This guy’s name is about insane as his excessful joyfulness.” I thought, “if I never find the stairway to Heaven, does that theoretically mean I’ll only find the highway to Hell?” I questioned my foe whilst staring him down. As usual, Mad Mod avoided the question, “or is this Hell? Then again, I doubt you can tell Heaven from Hell, or blue skies from pain”. In a method similar to Basil Fawlty, my foe got pissed off by the smallest detail and retaliated by somehow managing to once again break the laws of physics and the universe by summoning one of the most brutal events in European history: “NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!” a voice behind me proclaimed. Besides a psychopathic maniac that can break the matrix, I also have to deal with Spanish cardinals from the 16th century. If I somehow got through Mad Mod’s traps and I know his pattern of attack, I won’t get fooled again: how will I counteract his plans? First I’ll have to get rid of the Spanish Inquisition, and my only method I have is shooting them. As I aimed at them, the Spanish Inquisition disappeared, typical.

    My foe, however, didn’t disappear. What will his next challenge be? A pinball tournament between me and a deaf, dumb, and blind kid? “Now what are you going to do? Strap me into a chair, force my eyes open with speculums, and make me watch some worthless excuse for a movie? Well, I’ve got some bad news for you sunshine, I can stand almost any poorly made movie” I snarkily claimed. “No, why would I waste time scratching your corneas when I could impose overdrive on your senses” the cherry haired psychopath stated in a condescending manner, I could feel a single drop of anxiety-induced sweat slither down my forehead. I could have comforted myself by making a joke about what he said, but my instincts told me otherwise: I gulped with my eyes wide as a captain about to murder a well-respected colonel in the middle of the jungle, “This is the end, beautiful friend”. I’d rather be stuck in a hotel located near the U.S. embassy in Saigon, waiting for a mission deep in the untouched wilderness of eastern Indochina, than in a dimly lit alley of London on the doorstep of eternal suffering.

    Despite the fact my anxiety was seizing total control of my thought process, a renegade point of logic stood out like fluorescent orange powder dusted over the dense and tropical terrain of Southeast Asia: “The real question is, why are you, a super villain, holding me, an average civilian, hosta-” I was cut off by Mad Mod striking the back of my head with the oversized ruby handle of his cane. “There will be no talking whatsoever during a lesson, you understand?” the British bastard shouted in a fashion similar to a headmaster yelling at a student for writing poems during class instead of focusing on what they were being brainwashed. “Fuck” I thought, “what other example of cruel and unusual punishment am I going to be subjected to?”: my gaze was suddenly ripped from the ground to my foe, “WHAT IS THAT?” he demanded whilst pointing at an enamel pin on one of the lapels of my suit jacket. “A BEACH BOYS PIN, ON YOUR UNIFORM?” he yelled, “yeah, you gotta problem with it, coconut head?” I questioned before he swung the back of my head with his cane again, “as I was saying, my duckie, I hate it when bratty young people disobey the law. Especially when they shed light on the do-gooders who stop crime and put people like me in jail.” Mad Mod started kindly but quickly became sour, nearly screaming his undying hatred for the safety and security of the people and their liberty. “So, this megalomaniac isn’t just some dumbass who enjoys psychologically torturing others for their own amusement. Wait, why is he blaming it on the youth of contemporary civilization?” I brainstormed to myself until he hit the back of my head again, however, this time with more force.

#the shitposter writes #teen titans #mad mod

[chvrliegillespie]

when your 3 sentence father’s day post about reggie and ray turns into an over 1,000 word fic

#i didn’t mean for it to get this long but now it’s 3 big paragraphs with no dialogue SCREAM #think i might actually format it into a fic #reggie peters #ray molina #ray & reggie #molina family #julie and the phantoms #jatp #text

[meltwonu]

✦ 👻  𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖍 SEASON 2 👻 ✦

↪ ✧ PARTY ‘TIL I DIE ✧

this chapter pairing; incubus!hhu 「scoups|wonwoo|mingyu|vernon」x reader

genre&warnings; incubus!au, fivesome, dom!scoups, dom!wonwoo, dom!mingyu, dom!vernon, bdsm dungeons, double penetration[more ways than one], anal, handjobs, blowjobs, dirty talk, name calling, dumbification, degradation, restraints, sex toys, overstimulation, objectification.

notes; THE FINAL CHAPTER FOR MONSTER MASH SEASON 2! ✨😭💕 Bruh at this point the list of warnings should’ve been alphabetized kjfhksd ☠️ But hey, I figured we should go out with a bang if u kno what I’m sayin [gangbang] 🥸🥴 Thank you so much for all the support with MMS2 🥺 It really means so much to me and I appreciate every single one of you 😭💕 And thank you for always showing interest wanting to see MM content on here too! 💕 I’m going to post a schedule for Nov tomorrow, since I’m going to be taking a bit of a break for the first week and a half of Nov and I’m going to make a big MMS2 inbox roundup that’ll go up sometime this week too 💕 For now 😈 Enjoy the final chapter of MMS2 and have a great Halloween! I love you! 👻 🎃 ✨

word count; ~3500

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

i just wanna party, party, party, party, party,

party 'til I die-ie-ie-ie!

wanna get it started, started, started, started, started,

we're runnin' out of ti-i-i-ime!

every-everybody-body, body, body, body.

is coming through toni-i-i-ight!

and I just wanna party, party, party, party, party,

party 'til I die-ie-ie-ie!

p-party 'til I die!

You drunkenly tell a friend of yours one night that you’re open to experimenting.

‘I used to be the receptionist at this one place,’ he’d said as he slid over a sleek black business card, ‘I don’t work there anymore but the place was… Legit. No weird stuff and complete confidentiality. If you’re really thinking about it, I’d go here.’

And while you’d initially been embarrassed that you’d even told him that much - you found yourself quietly going down the small set of stairs that led to the exact location that’d been typewritten onto the back of the sleek black business card.

You’d even gone so far as to set an appointment for the VIP room and despite the heavy price tag that had been attached to it, you hoped that it was worth every dollar.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you hesitate with your hand on the unsuspecting doorknob before you shake your head and pry it open.

“Hi, and welcome to--”

“Seokmin!?”

He grins at you, waving comically from his place at the receptionist’s table. “Good evening. I see you made your appointment on time.”

You quickly shut the heavy door behind yourself before making your way towards him; cheeks hot as he readies your paperwork.

“I took the liberty of highlighting only the parts you need to read on here so--”

“You said you didn’t work here anymore!” You quietly yell as you take in your surroundings - noting the all black decor with the pops of purple on the wall.

He grins at you and slides over the clipboard with a pen.

“I lied because I didn’t think you’d actually come. But now that you have, you can’t tell anyone I work here still.”

“And if I do?”

Seokmin taps the clipboard with the pen - eyes twinkling.

“Then I tell everyone you came here too.”

“Touché.”

You fill out all of the paperwork and Seokmin leads you down a long corridor but the last paragraph before you’d signed makes your brows furrow as you repeat it over and over in your head.

“Seokmin… I have a question.”

He turns to you slightly before gesturing you forward when you reach the final door. “Yeah, what is it?”

“That part of the contract… Towards the end, the, ‘By signing this contract, you agree and consent to the non-human entities that may be your dominant and/or submissive during your appointment.’ Wh--what did it mean by ‘non-human entities’?”

Seokmin smirks as he unlocks the door and gestures you inside but your nervousness makes you hesitate to cross the threshold.

“You know all those urban legends about this side of town? That there were things here that shouldn’t have been?”

You nod slowly.

There had always been rumours that people had encountered vampires and even demons on the side of town that you were in but most often than not, you brushed it off as tales to make sure people stayed on the trails.

Seokmin licks his lips - eyes glimmering a crimson colour when you slowly start to step into the dimmed room.

“Let’s just say we give them a place to play.”

The second you’re alone in the dimmed room, you take in your surroundings - noting the big king-sized bed in the center and the table off to the side that had a multitude of sex toys lining the top.

From dildos of all sizes to riding crops that made goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Oh? I see you’re taking in our amenities, sweetheart.”

A voice speaks to you from behind as you gasp and spin to face them - accidentally knocking off some of the toys off of the table in your haste.

“I--sorry, w-who are you?”

He smirks before he advances on you; a small gasp leaving your lips when he’s already crossed the room and is kneeling at your feet to pick up the toys that had fallen.

“The name’s Mingyu. I’ll be your dom tonight and I expect you to be an obedient little slut or I will be punishing you, sweetheart.”

Mingyu stands back up at his full height and you feel your breath hitch at the way he holds the vibrator in his large hand - the toy seeming so small in his hold as a rush of wetness soaks into your panties.

“You’ve been so wet since you got here, sweetheart. You must’ve been waiting for this for some time, hmm?”

“H-how did you k-know that…?” You whimper as he presses his chest against yours and it’s when he leans in close do you notice the crimson gleam in his eyes.

“I’m an incubus, of course. We can all tell.”

Mingyu hadn’t said much.

Only asked you to strip yourself of your clothes before he was ordering you onto the bed and restraining both your arms and legs to the bedposts before he’d placed a vibrator between your, already, slicked thighs and left.

And the vibrations had been strong to your sensitive body as you wracked your brain trying to remember what an incubus even was; moaning softly when you remember that they’d not only fed off of sexual energy but also expelled it.

“Ngh, that’d e-explain why I--I was so… Affected by M-Mingyu…”

“Bingo~”

Your eyes dart to your left where the new voice comes from; legs wanting to clamp shut as the new visitor steps right in front of the bed. “Hoo, Mingyu sure is a mean one leaving you here like this, babygirl~ You’re soaking that toy like it’s nothing~”

In any other circumstance, you’d find yourself embarrassed at the new stranger who can’t stop staring at your pussy but instead you find yourself trying to grind against the toy as he watches.

“W-who are, a-ah, you…?” You whisper.

He grins at you as he starts to loosen his tie.

“Oh, me? My name’s Vernon, babygirl~ I’ll keep you company until Mingyu comes back.”

“Like hell, you will.” Mingyu retorts; appearing out of thin air as he eases onto the bed in nothing but his slacks. “Can’t you find your own toy to play with?”

You cry out just as Mingyu cruelly presses the toy harder against your sensitive clit.

“Why should I? Isn’t she our VIP guest for the night? Shouldn’t we give her the works?” Vernon quips. “And she smells so fuckin’ sweet. I could smell her when she passed by the doors.”

“We almost came running from our rooms too. You should learn how to share, Mingyu.”

You, Mingyu and Vernon turn your heads to the right to see two other males join and you feel yourself on the verge of an orgasm as they all stare at you and your naked body writhing against your restraints.

“Oh? Looks like she wants to cum already.” The blonde haired one replies to the bespectacled one.

“Are you gonna let her? Or should we hold off.”

“Who’s we, Wonwoo?” Mingyu grumbles.

And in the midst of their bickering, you end up cumming against the toy - toes curling and thighs trembling as the vibrations threw you over the edge and had you wanting to have your limbs unrestrained so that you could move away from the toy still pressed tight against your clit.

“Ah, you two were so busy arguing, she already came. Poor ‘lil fucktoy can’t even keep it together, huh? Her body is so sensitive already.” The blonde one comments.

He steps closer to the bed as you beg for one of them to turn the toy off - none of them reaching to shut it off as the overstimulation starts to bite.

“My name is Seungcheol and the one wearing glasses over there is Wonwoo. We’ll all be fucking you tonight so let’s get to know each other, okay?”

And you do get to know each other well - all of their hands all over your body to the point where you don’t know who’s even touching you at any given point and you find yourself cumming two more times before any of them even sink their cocks into you.

“Mmph… Ngh…”

“Aww, look at her, she’s trying so hard to sink her entire mouth down onto Vernon’s cock but it’s too big for her cute ‘lil mouth~” Mingyu grins as he thrusts into you - his cock fucking your ass as Wonwoo laid underneath you fucking your pussy. “I’m surprised she could even take Wonwoo and I at once… Guess it’s not your first time being used like a good ‘lil cum dumpster, huh? You love being filled with cock in both holes, don’t you, sweetheart? You were so wet we both slid into your tight ‘lil holes like it was nothing~”

You moan around Vernon’s cock in your mouth just as you clamp down onto Wonwoo and Mingyu’s cocks; your shy hand wrapped around Seungcheol as he grinned down at you.

“I mean, she came here knowing what she wanted, right? She paid for the best so we shouldn’t skimp out on anything~ We’ll give her everything she wants tonight, so long as she gives us what we need in return~”  

They all share a cruel laugh as your body rocks between them all and the way they have your entire body alight with energy only makes you wetter and hotter with each passing second they keep you filled.

And you had experimented by yourself a multitude of times; your sex toys being a staple in your closet.

But nothing felt better than somebody real and now you had four incubus all to yourself with unlimited energy to keep fucking you all night.

“Her mouth feels so good around my cock… Fuck, and her energy is so fuckin’ high too.” Vernon groans, head thrown back as you swallow and gag around his length, “Hope she has enough for all four of us~ We’re pretty hungry, babygirl~ We might need to go all night~”

Wonwoo growls as he thrusts up into you, his cock barely able to fit inside of your pussy with how much Mingyu was already stuffing you full.

“Her pussy is so fuckin’ tight too, I can’t wait to cum in it~” He licks his lips as he alternates his thrusts with Mingyu, “Ah, is Seungcheol going to fuck it after me?”

“Of course I am, I don’t want to cum in her hand, I wanna cum in her pussy too. We can’t waste a drop of it, can we?”

They continue to talk about you as if you really were just a toy to them and it makes your mind feel hazy as you tighten your grip on Seungcheol’s cock.

Precum leaks from the tip as you smear it down his shaft and he resists the urge to push the others aside to have his way with you alone.  

“Did you catch that, baby? Wonwoo’s gonna cum inside that tight ‘lil cunt of yours and then I’m gonna cum inside you too~ Gonna fuck our cum deeper into you so you can feel us inside of you for days even after you leave here~”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the idea and all four of them let out a groan as your entire body reacts to Seungcheol’s words.

“You know, princess, we read over your profile before we got here,” Wonwoo comments; eyes peering up and watching the way your mouth stretches around Vernon’s cock, “You had quite the extensive list on there, y’know? Almost every filthy ‘lil fantasy in the book. From tentacles to wanting to be fucked by two cocks in the same hole. You know we can give it all to you, right?”

You feel a shiver roll down your spine at the idea and you find yourself whining around Vernon’s cock as you start to work your hips back to fuck yourself on Mingyu and Wonwoo’s cock.

“Ah, she’s trying so hard~” Mingyu teases. “Every time we tell her about one of her dirty fantasies we can give her, she tries extra hard to please us. So cute, sweetheart. A good, obedient little cockwhore.”

Seungcheol’s cock in your hand feels hot and heavy as his pre-cum covers your palm. And now, you couldn’t help but imagine him and Wonwoo both inside of your pussy at the same time as you sputter around Vernon’s length.

“Oh? I think she wants to say something to us~” Vernon tugs you by the hair and off of his cock; a thread of precum and spit connecting your lips to the head as you sputter and catch your breath.

“Puh--please… I--I want, ngh, S--Seungcheol and W--Wonwoo in my p-pussy… I--a-ah! I can t-take it…” Your voice is hoarse from the way Vernon was deepthroating you, “I w-want you both to, mmnh, cum i-inside my pussy at the same--same time…”

You cry out as Mingyu and Wonwoo’s rhythm starts to match - their cocks filling you up at the exact same time as your body jerks forward.

“You think you can? You could barely fit Wonwoo’s cock inside your cunt and now you think you can take both of us? That’s cute, baby.”

Tightening your grip on Seungcheol, you work your hand down his shaft in time with their thrusts, “I, mmh, c-can… P-please… T-treat me like a, ngh, g-good fucktoy… I—I promise I’ll be good…”

Seungcheol licks his lips and pulls your hand off of him - opting to sit by the side as he watches.

“Let Vernon and Mingyu have their fun and then we’ll give you what you want. Understood?” He grits out; eyes watching your body taking in all three of their cocks at the same time.

Wonwoo holds you steady as Vernon and Mingyu then take the instead - their cocks slamming into you from both ends as you fight the urge to cum just yet.

“We’ll cum inside your pretty ‘lil ass and mouth at the same time, okay, sweetheart? So be good and take all of it.”

You let out a muffled cry in response and you start to feel their cocks throbbing inside of you as their paces start to match.

“She’s gonna be dripping with cum from each hole… I bet she’s going to feel so good after this. Won’t you, princess?” Wonwoo comments teasingly. “We hope you come back to play with us again after this. We still have so much of that list of yours to go through~”

They all chuckle under their breath and it only takes a few more skillful snaps of Mingyu’s hips into your ass and Vernon holding you down onto his cock until they’re both cumming at the same time - muffled cries around Vernon’s length as you start to feel their warm cum filling you up.

“Oho~ I can already see the cum dripping between her legs, Mingyu~ How much are you cumming inside her?”

You do your best to swallow down all of Vernon’s cum but some still manages to dribble down your chin and drip near Wonwoo’s head.

“Princess, don’t make a mess, okay? I’d hate to have to punish you.”

Your head feels fuzzy as they continue to fuck their cum inside of your mouth and ass and they both ride out their orgasms before they’re pulling out of you - cum pouring out of your ass in huge globs as it slides down your skin and onto Wonwoo’s cock.

“Ngh… Fuh--fuck… I’m--I’m already so--so full… It feels, ah, so good…” You cry; pleasured tears streaming down your face as you immediately sink down onto Wonwoo’s entire length now that he was the only cock inside of your overstimulated body.

“Please… S--Seungcheol…” Begging, you swivel your hips atop Wonwoo’s lap waiting for the other male to join.

“Mm, looks like we fucked her stupid~ All she can think of now is taking cock~ Look at the way she’s shaking her hips like a good ‘lil slut.” Wonwoo quips; hands on your ass as he spreads you open just as Seungcheol positions himself right where Mingyu had been.

“Fuck, Mingyu, she’s a mess… She has your cum all over - it’s even on Wonwoo’s cock inside of her.”

Mingyu and Vernon both watch from the sidelines as Seungcheol uses Mingyu’s cum as lubrication for his own cock when he positions the head of his cock right next to Wonwoo’s.

“You’re gonna need to relax, princess, or else Seungcheol won’t be able to fit his cock inside of your pussy, okay?”

You nod feverishly as you try to calm your buzzing body but as soon as you start to feel Seungcheol’s cock starting to push in next to Wonwoo’s, you feel yourself starting to drool at the stretch.

There’s a bit of a sting at first but it quickly bleeds into pleasure as their big, warm hands massage your body.

“You’re doing so well, baby~ Taking both of our cocks in your tight ‘lil hole like this~” Seungcheol coos, “Then we’ll both fuck you like how you want and you can cum with us, okay?”

You sniffle slightly as you get used to the feeling of both of them inside of you and when Seungcheol finally is fully sheathed inside your cunt, flush against Wonwoo’s own cock, you can’t stop the orgasm that washes over your body as your walls clamp down onto both of them.

“Fuck, she’s cumming around our cocks… Shit, she’s so tight.” Seungcheol grunts as he slowly draws his hips back and shallowly thrusts back in, “I can’t hold back, baby, I need to fuckin’ cum in this tight ‘lil cunt, okay?”

You’re still riding out your high as you nod, “P-please… Fuck me, ngh, g-good and—and hard… Use my p-pussy h-however you want…!”

The delirium starts to set in as they start to fuck your pussy at the same time; the stretch undeniably delicious as you work your hips back.

“Mm, next time let Vernon and I do that to you too, okay?” Mingyu snickers as you glance at him from the side - eyes hazy and filled with lust as you move in tandem with the other two incubus.

“I—I want it… I, mmnh, c-can take it…”

You start to sob quietly as you feel another orgasm building extremely fast and it’s not until Wonwoo growls that you even register than he and Seungcheol both were now fucking you at a speed twice as fast.

“Fuck, we fucked her so stupid. Princess, do you even know where you are?”

“Mmngh… the—um, the bdsm p-place..? I—I don’t remember the n-name….” You whisper hazily.

“That’s right, baby. And now you’re gonna cum with us, okay? One more time like a good ‘lil cumslut.”

You nod once before your head lols to the side, eyes unfocused from the mind melting pleasure as you start to feel your entire body locking up between their own.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum…” Wonwoo mutters, hips thrusting up into you as he slides against Seungcheol’s cock.

Wonwoo’s hips stutter as he gives into the pleasure and Seungcheol follows suit as they both cum inside your pussy at the same time - the warm sticky substance spilling out of you as you let out a quiet scream.

Your ears are ringing as you cum and the last thing you see is Wonwoo’s amused face for a millisecond before everything goes black.

“Ooops.”

“How would you rate your service, from a scale of one to ten?”

Seokmin beams at your disheveled appearance; his eyes forming crescents as you blink tiredly at him at the receptionist’s desk.

There were four different loads of cum sliding down your inner thighs and at this point, you didn’t even care that Seokmin knew.

“Schedule my appointment for next week. The same room please, Seokmin.”

“You got it, doll. Say... Any room for one more?”

#wonwoo smut #scoups smut #mingyu smut #vernon smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo scenarios #scoups scenarios #mingyu scenarios #vernon scenarios #wonwoo imagines #scoups imagines #mingyu imagines #vernon imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo #scoups #mingyu #vernon

[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.”

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