happiness! » stray kids

8. [felix becomes a radioactive tomato in the form of a human baby]

Felix texted his mother and told her he was staying after to get help on his math homework, but in actuality, he was making more bottled happiness. Changbin was with him, because apparently the boy could smell money, or predict the future, or both. Whichever way, Changbin knew that the demand for the bottled happiness was going to increase dramatically and he was not about to visit the store just to stare wistfully at the ramen again.

Felix's hands were shaking like he was a ninety-five year old man, and his conversational skills were suddenly about as good as one's. Put him in front of literally any other person—a stranger, the science teacher who never forgave him for when he blew up an experiment with the Bunsen burner, a friend, anyone— and he'd talk nonstop. He just didn't know how to be quiet, something his mother used to tell him every day until she figured out that he'd always respond with a dramatic monologue about how she didn't really love him.

"If you breathe any more laboriously I might have to just drown you in the toilet," Changbin said.

Felix accidentally choked on the chicken nugget he'd been eating (it had spent the last half of the day in his pocket) when he inhaled to try and form a proper sentence. He hoped that he'd die from choking, but at least coughing up his lung and half of all his internal organs saved him from having to respond. Thank god for a chicken nugget's throat-blocking prowess.

Changbin, meanwhile, hadn't signed up for this. He didn't know how to do the Heimlich, but Felix's purple face and streaming eyes were really ugly. He looked like a radioactive tomato if it were in the form of a human baby. A comparison Changbin never thought he'd make, and fervently wished he hadn't had to. He tried to wrap his arms around Felix to yeet the chicken nugget from his throat, but the oddest thing kept happening: whenever his arms got close to Felix, something stopped them. He tried valiantly, but that something prevented him from touching Felix. However, Felix was still dying, so he took a deep breath, prayed to Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson (his role model), and forced himself to give Felix the Heimlich.

The second Changbin had him in a hug, the chicken nugget chunk flew out of Felix's mouth, unprompted by anything he'd done.

"I'm the nation's hero," Changbin said in a tone more dead than ever before.

Felix gasped like a fish, eyes still streaming.

"Oh my Jesus Christ doing a tap routine," he forced out, wheezing. Changbin was mildly impressed; the last time Felix had wheezed this hard, he'd been laughing at his own puns. It was good to know that the dumb Aussie was versatile.

"The sacrifices we make for the things we love," Changbin intoned. Felix looked like he was going to start choking again, face spasming strangely.

"You're going to kill me. You're actually going to kill me. Yep. I'm just gonna die right now. Cause of death: Changbin being a b—"

"I haven't even done anything! Both times you almost died, it was your own fault!"

"That's what they all say!" Felix shouted with narrowed eyes, distrust swimming in his pupils.

"Who's they?"

Felix stirred the pot sullenly. Changbin tried not to let on how amusing he thought this was, but he must've been failing horribly because Felix told him he looked like a constipated cat.

"I didn't even know you knew the word 'constipated' in Korean," Changbin said.

"Shut!" Felix yelled, finally snapping and lunging at Changbin, smacking him with the ladle.

"This is my good sweatshirt you hyperactive lapdog looking—"

"Good! I hope it stains!"

Changbin stopped frantically patting at his shoulder and face with his wad of toilet paper to look at Felix.

"You don't actually mean that, do you?" He asked, fully aware of his manipulative prowess because he was a snake.

"I—No, I don't," Felix admitted.

"So...what you're saying is that you'll buy me a new sweatshirt if it stains? With all the money we'll be getting?" He wheedled.

"Why can't you buy it with all the money we'll be getting?" Felix grumbled, turning back to the crock pot, but Changbin knew he had won.

By the end of the ordeal, a sufficient amount of happiness had been prepared, fermenting away, and the prospect of Changbin getting a new sweatshirt was very good.

Felix had not known that Seungmin and Jeongin apparently knew everyone; they were part of the massive nerd association who masqueraded as a chess team but in actuality played Dungeons and Dragons in someone's basement. Apparently the nerd association was a lot larger and thus more terrifying force to be reckoned with than Felix had originally thought. Long story short, Seungmin and Jeongin had five notebook pages filled with the names of people requesting bottled happiness.

That was about three more notebook pages of bottled happiness than they had in the works, and Felix was out of his special ingredients.

They were holding an emergency meeting in the ABB (abandoned boys' bathroom). Everyone was there, even Woojin, who lurked inside a cloud of disapproval, and Jeongin, who once again was missing Algebra. His grade was suffering. He made sacrifices to the god of disappointing and lazy students every night, but the god wasn't pulling through. The praying accompanying these sacrifices consequently and consistently became saltier. He was at the level where he started his prayer with an aggressive "Boy!" instead of "Oh great god of disappointing and lazy students, please shake your head at my current situation." It was bad. But he hadn't had much choice. He shuddered as he remembered Jisung's vigorous entrance, demanding Jeongin's "extraction" from class.

"Y'all, I'm out of ingredients," Felix officially announced.

General chaos ensued. Changbin may or may not have used this opportunity to "accidentally" drop Chan's duck-shaped stress ball into the toilet, where it belonged. Chan didn't notice.

"Hey, hey, quiet down or I'll dab!" Felix threatened. Everyone froze and fell silent.

"It's okay, I bought some other random things that generally evoke a feeling of deep terror when I think of mixing them together, like peanut butter and pickle juice. But don't worry! I have more choccy milk and my lighter, so it should be okay."

"That sounds like the literal least okay situation anyone could possibly concoct," Woojin said, and more chaos ensued.

ah yes im back after another month with an update lmao
i wrote this and the new hiding lurking chapter at the same time last night and im wondering if my ability to seamlessly switch between writing horror and comedy says anything about me [thinking emoji]

anyway i screamed at the rock mv. why is jisung so cute. how can he have a literal cocomullet on his head and still look so adorable. i dont get it.